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[Greed looks beyond Michael, then. His eyes skate the bathroom tiles, black as they are, and the smile that creeps up his face is an old one. He doesn't know 10,000 years or more, but he does know 200. Knows 200 and when the number finally stopped.]
["You don't need me anymore, kid."]
[The Sin spreads his fingers, running them through Michael's hair to tease out any knots.] Yeah, thing is - [His eyes shift, turning back to the angel before him with the tenderness of a viper that means no harm.] - it won't do much good. What's happened happened. Can't really change it, hmn? [He coils his knuckles around a stubborn tangle to slowly unwind it.] Some things are better left unsaid. Secrets, Blue Eyes. Sometimes, they're worth it. But this one? [He puckers his lip with a light hum.] Let's just say it's a whole lot more trouble than ya need, and we'll leave it at that.
Mn. [The former homunculus lets his hand drop out of Michael's hair, wet and slippery.] But this place isn't yours, is it? So, why should you be held to something that never belonged to you in the first place? That's the thing. Nothing's impossible. You might always be in control back where you come from, but here? Well. [His upper lip twitches, leveling between anger and acceptance. And he's already said it, hasn't he? What's happened happened. Three days from now, whoever Michael's killed will be back again. Whether they're angry, bitter, or forgiving is the bigger question.]
[But that's not today. That's not tomorrow. And so, the former homunculus settles on the present.]
[Greed huffs a sound through his nose. Sometimes, he wonders if he got the better part of the bargain. Lucifer and Michael may outlast and outstand him by years, but he managed to get his freedom, didn't he? He was able to leave. Leave, experience, and take as time went on. No duty shackled him and no rules applied. Only the ones he made. The ones he made and continues to do so even here.]
You really are that, aren't you? Pure or whatever. But don't get the wrong idea. [He sinks his hand, wets it, then runs it across another one of Michael's wings, letting the water slip like silk off the cool-black of his skin.] You talk about me caring like it's the same. And I'm here to tell you again that it isn't. It isn't a blessing or a curse, Michael. Sometimes it just is, just as I'm me. Hierarchy, right? Everyone's got this whole idea that greed is just for money and power -
[Dreamily, the Sin traces one of Michael's feathers with his thumb; his touch as delicate as someone admiring a piece, a trinket, unique in design.] - for sex, status, glory. But then, what about wanting to bring someone back from the dead? What about saving someone you love? About getting out of a bad situation? Deny it all you want, but all of that is still greed.
Humans, even your kind, think there's a right and wrong to wanting. There isn't. Not to me. [There are rules, sure. Certain rules only him and him alone will ever know. But desire? Desire doesn't come in black and white, nor does it balance on a scale. No instead, it lives in the comfortable gray; where choice, decision, and the ability for both are all that matter.]
[Greed shimmies his claw through the mangled tufts of a feather, smoothing it straight again.] I can't really say you're wrong about that. Because you're right, it isn't fair. They weren't given the option. So, why should you or any of us hold them to the same standards? [He shifts his weight and the water beneath them sloshes lonely along the edges of the tub.] Everyone wants something, Michael. Things, people, experiences. Maybe, that's the beauty you're looking for. Think about it. Might find out it's not so complicated.
[Once the last of the soap is gone and the water comes back clear, the former homunculus wraps himself around Michael again. It takes some effort (what with the tub as slick as it is and Michael's wingspan practically eating up half the room), but eventually he gets to a stand. And as a flood spews out of them, the Sin guides one of his legs over the side of the tub, forcing it to the floor with a soggy, wet-leather squshh.] Knock that off, that coward talk. You didn't know what you were up against. You had no idea what would happen. Take the lesson instead, Blues. The rest of it doesn't suit ya.
[Oh yeah, he does not give a shit he's addressing Michael that way. He's never given a shit. Authority, high-powers: he'll bite and snap at them all the same.]
[Greed reaches out with a spare hand, grabbing two black towels off a hanger.] Then I guess you're staying here for the night, aren't you? [He asks fully aware and already knowing the answer. Michael can protest all he wants: he's all but made the decision for him.]
[So, with an expression overly exasperated, dramatic, and a bit sarcastic, the Sin tries to drop a towel over Michael's head as he makes his way from the bathtub.] Oh, ho. Getting cheeky with me now? You should know better.
[He walks through the bathroom, heels squishing, boots squeaking, with a trail of water growing behind him so bloated and drenched, it would make most men wince.] I want everything, hmn? But for now - [The length of his tail is the last thing that slips out of the tub and as it goes, the barbs of it quietly (secretly) catch the stopper by its chain. One pull, and the woes of hours ago slowly begin disappear. Where? Only Truth knows. And maybe, it's better that way.]
[Greed flicks his tail, expanding the spines at the tip with a metallic twng of steel.] - try living for once. You and that brother of yours have this habit, this stupid fucking idea, that you don't deserve it. So, we're gunna do things my way. [He snidely sucks on a tooth.] See, I can't stand when people deny themselves, Michael. Doesn't sit well with me. There's no point. From now on, you're gunna start living. Really living. That's the deal.
[A heat, like a warm furnace, like an unknown something, reaches up to his throat. It isn't burning like before. No, there's no viciousness to speak of. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's welcoming. Welcoming in that way a fireplace is when the whole world's gone cold, cold, cold. Greed tilts his head and as all the jewels around his neck shift wet against his chest, he shows his teeth to Michael; sharp, slivering, and beckoning all the same.]
But first thing's first - let's get you dried off.
[ thankfully he is facing forward again, because he makes a face when Greed starts trying to detangle his hair. still, it brings back memories of him doing the same thing for Lucifer, earning a laugh that he cuts short. ]
Yes, you’re entitled to your secrets, forget that I attempted to pry. I just.. I’m not accustomed to this, any of this. I suppose that’s the reason I ask you as many questions I do, because I want to understand.
[ he closes his eyes, unknowingly leaning against those claws like a feline would not a good scratch. once he catches himself, he straightens up and hums to himself, taking the time to gather his thoughts before continuing. ]
Because something Lucifer said has been bothering me, I don’t think there will ever be a time I don’t think about it. God is omniscient, meaning He created and nurtured our gifts only to turn me against my brother because he knew I would obey His Word. If that’s the case, then I have never been in control. If I was a pawn this entire time, then what is my purpose?
It should be reassuring, making my own decisions, but the magnitude of that truth is.. something else. [ ah, he mentally latches onto the question of his purity, though he sounds mildly perplexed. ] I would not be an angel without it, did you think I was otherwise? My views have started to become various shades of gray, but my virtue is intact.
Can you blame me, when the only other representation of Greed I have known is Mammon? I know that it’s unfair to compare the two of you, there is no contest there. But my views have been black and white for so long that I’m having a difficult time adjusting. In time, I know my doubt will fade.
[ Michael’s chin finds the top of his knees again and the wing Greed is fussing with twitches. shortly after, his shoulders sag, the only visible cue that the ministrations are welcome. ] No, I won’t deny it, a want is a want. But when you find you have to remind me often, remember that we — Lucifer and I — were taught that Sins were evil deeds, like telling a child a cautionary bedtime story to keep them from acting recklessly.
You’ve shown me that there is more to it than that, and I am willing to learn. No one can say whether what we learn here returns home with us, but I hope this part does. If I encompass the gray areas into my Judgment, maybe it will not be so devastating to families. Some people sin because it’s unavoidable, it should be taken into consideration.
[ he doesn’t look back at him because he expects to see his usual lazy, shit-eating grin on his face and he is too tired to deal with it. when he speaks up again, his voice is too soft. ] I thought I knew what I wanted in this eternal life, but I’ve found myself with more questions than answers. How do you befriend them, Greed? Knowing that their lifespans are stunted, that they may go to a place that you will never see them again. I suppose what I’m asking is: is the pain of losing them worth the pain of only having them in your life for a short time?
[ he isn’t even speaking solely of their respective homes now. someone he has grown to respect could disappear tomorrow and he would never know their fate. in his own world, he would at least able to say farewell — or they would meet again in Heaven. the variables here are ever-changing, there are no guarantees.
he is learning though, as he doesn’t try to argue with him about his perceived cowardice. ]
If I protest, would you even listen? [ he tests his fingers and toes, finding his limbs are less sore than they were before the bath, something he is more than thankful for. it means he could probably leave and make it back to heaven in one piece, but he only nods lamely when Greed inquires about it.
he goes about patting himself dry with the towel, saving his hair for last. he avoids the injured arm as best he can, thankful to find he hasn’t lost any function in it. without the rest of the grime, a distinct set of bite marks can be found near his shoulder and ending closer to his elbow. the wound is jagged, he likely would have lost the arm had he not been a capable fighter. ]
I haven’t begun to get cheeky, you are simply a difficult man to read. Even with my power, giving you everything isn’t achievable right now. [ look at this little angel doing his homework, he doesn’t say it’s impossible this time. ] But I can, and will, attempt to honor that. Living, I mean.
[ he draws the towel up and starts on his hair, whipping it up into a fashion that screams less heaven’s bulldog and more the family cockatiel. when he looks up at him again, his bangs have flooded his eyes. ]
While you’re drying off, I will clean up the feathers. It’s the least I can do for you helping me.
[He hasn't forgotten who he's talking to. And while he knows Michael can handle it, that it wouldn't break him, there's still that hesitation. That hesitation to guard, to shield away things better left unsaid. So, he goes with the vague. Because he's comfortable with the vague. And as he watches Michael find his footing against the wet tile, the Sin mindlessly toes off his boots.]
Eh, don't worry about it so much, all right? Wouldn't expect ya not to ask. Information's worth a lot, Blue Eyes. Can't really blame you for wanting to know, otherwise I'd be a bit of a hypocrite. [He sheds his boots, making them flop like dead fish on the floor. Greed stretches his long, raptor(ed) toes.] It's not exactly what you went through, but close enough. Purification, I mean. Easier to put a pawn back into the rotation if they never remembered they rebelled in the first place, hmn? Clean slate.
[Michael starts drying his hair, and the Sin reaches up, smothering one of his hands across the top of his head. He shakes his wrist lightly, briskly, to try to shoo away the wet.] That's the thing. Good ol'Pops had a similar idea. But he couldn't plan for everything, hmn? See, he had a purpose for me, Blue Eyes. Just like he did the rest of 'em. We were supposed to help him bring about the Promised Day. But after 100 years, I couldn't live under him, I couldn't take his orders. My greed just wouldn't let me. And you'd think he'd know that, given that he made me. Ha - !
[Greed humorlessly barks out a laugh.] Suppose that's why he wasn't too happy when I told him no. [He lifts his hand away to slide his fingers through his own hair and the smile on his face grows. Grows with all that same, challenging demeanor he's known for. The former homunculus lifts his shoulders and as he grips his shirt, he lazily peels it over his head.] Ah, you're getting there, but you're still asking the wrong question, Blue Eyes.
[The shirt is absolutely drenched and when he tosses it into a corner, it hits the floor like a slap to the face. Another problem for later, apparently. The Sin grabs a new towel, swinging it over his shoulders. He squeezes it by both ends and with a back-and-forth motion, he begins to dry himself off.] I can't say whether or not you were a pawn before, but what I can tell you is that it doesn't matter now. Purpose's got nothing to do with it. So, let's try again.
What do you really want, Michael? [He passes the towel over his head, smearing the spikes of his hair forward. And it's one of those fleeting moments when he doesn't look so poisonous. When his desire isn't so directed, so vile, or so wicked. Any other time, it'd be a stinging sort of thing - like turpentine, burning at the throat. However, here? Here, that need is lighter, softer. Like the very same steam fogging up the glass all around them, it's gentle in an odd sort of way. Still weighty, still demanding, but mindful of its audience.]
[Greed squints his eyes.] And I don't mean things or possessions. I mean, if you could do anything with this afterlife, what would it be? And keep in mind, those rules of yours don't apply. [Is he going to flick an Archangel's ear? Oh, you bet he is. The Sin snaps his finger as he peels away from Michael; his speed, sluggish and comfortable.] Don't have to answer me now. Hell, you don't even have to tell me. But you're gunna have to figure it out one way or another. Otherwise, what's the point, right?
[The former homunculus steps over to the sink and swipes his hand along the mirror. When he sees his reflection, it's muddy at best. Condensation clings along the glass like dew, turning the image of him, of the two of them, to a blur. He lowers his chin, forcing his eyes shut under the pressure of his grin.] Yeah well, Mammon's a piece of shit. And if I'm ever given the opportunity, I'll make sure to show him what real avarice looks like.
[He chances a look in the mirror again to focus on Michael.] Nothing wrong with too much hope there, Feathers. If they do, do me a favor, would ya? Tell your old man he can shove it. [He opens the mirror with a soft, bouncy click. The collection inside is an odd assortment: colognes and perfumes, toothpaste with an accompanying brush that's met a horrible fate, lotions, a bottle of cleaning alcohol. He grabs a couple of odds and ends, wedging them between his fingers.]
We were built to last. Humans weren't. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking for a way to change that. [A flicker of solemness touches his face, only to leave again. Deflection: another Greed the Avaricious specialty.] But maybe we've both got it wrong, huh? Maybe that's just - [He pauses, nails twitching, and his expression fights itself. Because he knows loss, and he knows what happens when a life gets cut too short.]
[The Sin touches his lip with his tongue and shrugs.] - maybe it's just the price of it, Blues. Nothing in this life or the next is free, hmn? Now, this isn't gunna feel great. [Turning, he shows off his collection of bottles, including the alcohol.] And you could do that, but I think we've already made it pretty clear I'm bad at taking orders.
[Greed makes his way back across the bathroom. Had this been under different circumstances, he would find it funny that he has some height on the other man. He keeps his mouth shut this time, though. Well, until Michael chimes in about him being difficult to read. And how could he not?] Am I? [He asks, tilting his head just enough to make the gem in his ear sway.] And here I thought I've been pretty simple.
Even with that power of yours, I don't think you could. I always want more, Michael. Sure, money, power, sex, glory - I get it, but it's - [It's never enough, he fails to say. And that's another skirting of the truth. Because none of that really matters. None of that is worth what he actually has, what he truly wants. And as the former homunculus soaks his claws in alcohol, as he smells the pungent sting of it tickle in his nose, he knows. Knows and realizes this isn't the last time he'll be here.]
[So, he skips over it all. For he will and forever be the creature chasing its own tail.]
[Greed spins the cap back onto the bottle with a free hand, closing it shut.] Good. Because if you don't, I know where you live. I know where both of you live. [He flicks a glance down at Michael. While his mouth still smiles, those eyes of his tell a different story. They're cold. Cold, still, and waiting. Then, the second passes, and whatever's on his mind dies with it.] Might not be thanking me in a second. Feel free to grip on if it hurts too much.
[And with that, he plants his hand against the angry mark along Michael's skin, smearing it with the sterile bite of alcohol.]
Do I have to remind you who my brother is? Worrying is my second job, he may be the oldest but that hardly means he makes the greatest decisions in life. But I don’t need your secrets, nor do I put a price on them. I enjoy obtaining knowledge but not at the cost of another’s privacy.
What you’ve told me about yourself, as I’ve said before, does not leave the room it was shared in. [ while Greed fusses with his boots, Michael stretches his wings out sharply to rid them of any lingering water. he snaps his fingers and one portal opens behind him, with another appearing over the bathtub—so the excess water drops into the tub rather than all over the floor and Greed.
that’s the extent of his magic tricks for the day. the portals disappear just as quickly as they appeared, giving Michael time to get a better look at his arm now that he isn’t covered in gore. ]
For a man of planning, his oversights were numerous. When you give life to something, you can hardly complain when it doesn’t go according to plan. Life has never and will never work like that. The experiences accumulated in life shape the person, not the will of anoth—
[ an amusing sputtering sound erupts from beneath the towel he was using and his feathers puff up like a startled cat’s tail when he steps on some feathers and nearly slips. despite catching himself, he still gives the floor a look that is half surprised, half exasperated. rather than comment on it, he eventually wraps the towel around himself. ]
Everyone is always reaching for more when they should be happy with what they have been given. There is no blessing in immortality, it is a cursed life. Seeing the world fall victim to the same evils over and over again, despite the attempts to better it, is disheartening. [ he studies the man carefully, eyebrows furrowing as he touches his ear. how rude. the silence drags on longer than it should before Michael begins, hesitantly: ]
To say no when something comes across my desk that I don’t believe in, to fight for souls that can be saved rather than battle against the ones that can’t. To make up for the time Lucifer and I lost, and get to know Charlie. And I want them, Sinners and Winners alike, to know that they are not alone here. Whatever problems they have, I will help them—not because it’s expected of me, but because I want to.
I want them to know that, if they are in peril, someone will be there to catch them. [ because he knows all too well how difficult it is to fight a losing battle alone. he could add to his list, but that seems like enough to satisfy his companion for now. ]
Only if you let your Father know that he pales in comparison to you and your siblings. .. No, I haven’t met them, and I imagine they aren’t all like you, but they have the chance to be if they want it. To be better than him, to do better. [ he crouches down to grab a handful of discarded feathers, then moves onto another pile. ]
I understand you wanting more time for them. The world can be cruel and take them far too soon, but they were always meant to burn brightly and die out. Before this place, I might have called you selfish for wanting to extend their lives, but I’m beginning to understand. Especially knowing what they are returning home to.
[ he bites back a comment about being a warrior, he is no stranger to injuries or ointments. ] It’s precisely the simplicity that makes it difficult to read you. You make no excuses and your intentions are clear, you don’t care who hears them or if your words might be misconstrued. It should be a refreshing perspective, but I still feel like you are hiding something deep down. Something that I’ve no intention of pressing you about.
[ some secrets, after all. ]
Why, Greed, if I didn’t know any better I would think that is a threat. Or is it a promise? Either way, it— [ he is cut off by a sharp hiss, sucked in through gritted teeth. despite the offer to grab onto him, he settles for balling up the fist of his other hand and letting his nails dig into his palm. ]
You’re right, I revoke my thanks. [ he does not. ]
[It's his eyes that move; how they skirt along Michael, cold-blooded and hot just the same. He could swallow the world with those eyes. Swallow it down, drink it up, and still be wanting for more. Yet, there's something else, isn't there? A desire beyond all the material, small and ticking behind those sinister, viper(ing) slits.]
No, you don't have to remind me, and I wouldn't know. I haven't asked. It's none of my business. He hasn't asked for mine, only seems fair I do the same. [He closes one of his eyes with a wink, sarcastic and flirtatious even now.] And he's free to make his own decisions, right? Good or bad, he's got that choice here. Just as you do.
[He slips his fingers through his hair again, coaxing the spikes of it to an upward slant.] Like I told you before, there are some things about me that'll just make it complicated. And I don't think either of us want that, do we?
[Of course here, he's referring to Lucifer. But it could apply to any of them: to the people who call the 'Nest their home, to those he's taken in and claimed as his. Adding on extra baggage wouldn't do them any good. Nothing can take back what's happened and histories don't rewrite themselves. The point's all moot.]
[So, he drops it and instead turns his attention on Michael and the portals that suddenly appear out of no where. He shouldn't (and isn't) surprised that the Archangel comes with tricks all his own. And he's about to ask more, about to pry just a little on the subject, but then Michael puffs up like a spooked cat, and ah, a Sin can't help himself, can he?]
[Greed barks out a laugh, a real, genuine laugh as he claps one of free hands on Michael's shoulder; his cold-carbon skin warmed like a heated stone.] Ha - ! Watch it there, Feathers. Don't need ya crackin' your skull open on top of everything. Wouldn't look good for either of us, and I really don't wanna be the one to explain to your brother how you ended up unconscious in my bathroom.
[The Sin's eyebrows crease up his forehead, and his lips squeeze together, egotistical and sly.] Are you forgetting who I am again? How many times am I gunna have to tell you before you get it? It's never enough for me. And immortality? Real immortality? [He presses the forks of his tongue behind the flats of his upper teeth.] That's always been on the top of the list. [A knowing look passes by his face and as he slowly (tentatively, reluctantly) peels his fingers off the other man's shoulder, the former homunculus hums to himself.]
Then you've already got your answer, don't you. Tch, you heroic types - [He trails off, looking up towards the ceiling as a distraction while he mindlessly tries to shoo a piece of Michael's hair from his face.] Can't help yourself, can you? [For a second time, his fingers linger. As if he's holding the moment for all it's worth and keeping it for him and him alone. Eventually though, he settles his hands around the thinnest part of his waist and grips his nails into his hips.]
[The name Morningstar may mean Lightbringer, but for him? For him, he's got a new definition. A word that begins with P and ends in Ant and oh, will it always prove to be trouble, trouble, trouble.]
[Thankfully, he's a creature built for it.]
[Greed momentarily goes quiet. He should have known the subject would come up one day. But as he maps out the angry marks on Michael's skin (with a cool look, with a distant look), he can't stop himself from sneering a little. It's a vicious expression. Like a devil being told the details of a ridiculous bargain. The Sin sways his head to the side and the points of his eyes flicker between both the blow-out point and the stillness of a twitching, trembling needle.]
Maybe one or two of 'em, sure. I'll give you that much. But you don't know them like I do. Don't give them so much credit. [His jaw grinds up a smile from somewhere deep, deep down in the cesspool he calls a core.] Envy's here, if you have to know. And while I don't trust a single fucking thing he says most of the time, it looks like he may finally be taking my advice. As for the rest -
[Using a free hand, he touches the necklaces around his throat, letting the tips of his claws skirt his skin.] - don't underestimate them. Because you're right, I'm not like them. Even at the end of it all, they thought they were better than everything else. Humans, chimeras. [His lips stretch and spread across his teeth so taut, it's a miracle in itself his skin doesn't crack.] I left them twice, Michael. And both times, they didn't change. I don't think being here would make much of a difference.
[The spite leaves just as quickly as it came; a blip, and no more. And as his tail chimes steel against the tile below, the former homunculus turns on his heel towards a small, linen-closet door. He knuckles the knob between his fingers.] See, I don't think it's difficult at all. I'm a pretty simple guy, Blues. [He yanks open the door to rummage through it. Towels, hand cloths, plastic bottles: they all get dropped to the floor as he digs deeper, uncaring and oblivious to the mess he's making. He pauses once, and only once, when Michael mentions something about hiding, but he's quick to collect himself.]
[Greed sinks his nails into a roll of bandages before shutting the door with his knee.] And what if I don't? [He pivots on the balls of his feet, causing his claws to scrape new gashes into the tiles below.] Could just be you're overthinking it again.
But I guess you're just going to have to find out, aren't you? And who knows, Michael. Maybe, it's a little bit of both. [Ah, and there's that sarcasm again, rearing its head with a rattling tail and a smile as slick as a puddle of mud. The Sin unwinds the bandages.] Now, think you could do me the favor and stop being a pain in the ass for a second?
[He has four hands, he could use those four hands, but old habits are hard to break. As such, the Sin takes the end of the roll into his mouth, yanking it tight.]
It seems you and Alastor are cut from the same cloth in that respect. He was dumbfounded when I explained the terms of Lucifer’s deal with him, I don’t think he ever truly considered that the only thing he wanted out of it was his company. [ he lets out a sigh, gesturing vaguely at the air. ] He is, I know. Is it selfish to want to protect him from himself?
Lucifer plays his part well. To the eyes of someone on the outside looking in, he may very well be the cocky and charismatic ruler of Hell — but he hasn’t changed as much as he thinks he has. When we struck our deal, I told myself I would protect what little happiness he has managed to hold onto. If they make him happy, then who am I to get between that?
I just.. [ he cuts himself off, looking down at the clump of feathers in his grasp. while it doesn’t hurt to admit it, it does feel strange. ] I’m afraid, afraid that one day all of the reassurances in the world won’t be able to bring him back. It sounds foolish, yes, I realize that.
No, we don’t. All the same, if you do need to talk about anything, you know where my office is. [ Michael is still giving Greed an unimpressed look at his laughter when he cocks his head off to one side, as if lost. ]
Have you become a champion for my virtue? You make it sound like this is some sort of forbidden tryst. You found me in a state, cleaned me up and helped me regain my strength. There is nothing to confuse, I have every intention of telling him I was here. Why wouldn’t I?
[ the talk about immortality changes things, however. he actually looks concerned, continuing on gently. ] It would be an eternity, Greed, a life that you would be unable to share. If you could share it, what if your people declined it? You would have to watch them grow old and die, then repeat the process with those who take their place. How many would have to disappear before you regretted your choice?
I’m not being argumentative but, as someone who has that life, I’m curious. Human companionship is new to me, I’m trying to understand it through your eyes. [ to emphasize his resolve, he tips his face to look back up at him. ]
Heroic deeds aren’t my motivation and it may not be entirely altruistic of me to offer those things. The system in place right now is faulty, so I am trying something new in hopes of being able to implement it back home. Hate will get us nowhere but, perhaps, if we try to understand them, we can find common ground. It would ease the burden on Lucifer and Charlie and, in time, the animosity between Heaven and Hell may fade.
[ he is trying so damn hard to make this a reality, these are the types of notes lining the numerous journals in his room. ways to prevent conflict and eventually put a treaty in place. if the two sides can coexist here, it means there is a chance for them as well. ]
I was always taught to give someone the benefit of the doubt and to never judge a book by the cover. I just have to believe that if one Deadly Sin is capable of breaking free, then it’s achievable for the others as well. I think, maybe, that is why I feel so comfortable around you. You understand what it’s like to be one voice in a sea of thousands, going against the grain because you know what was asked of you was wrong. You did what I couldn’t.
[ he admires that aspect of his strength, more than he will ever be willing to convey. ] Maybe not, but did you ever think that maybe being separated from the others made Envy more willing to try? Siblings, in my experience, are often prone to foolish bravado and are eager to please their Fathers. Away from them, they are much more willing to hear an opinion that differs from the one they have been fed their entire lives, especially if it unburdens them.
[ after cleaning up the last of the feathers, he turns to watch him, making a face when he starts throwing things around. true to form, by the time Greed has turned around, Michael is on his way over to start cleaning them up — but then the sin closes the door. really, are you a homunculus or caveman? ]
I’m prone to overthinking, I will give you that much. All I know is what I see with my own two eyes. I suppose I could have misread someone once or twice in the past. [ no, no, he will not push, but he does raise an eyebrow and shoot him an amused look in return. ]
I will do my best. Fortunately for you, the idea of being manhandled this evening is on the bottom of my list. [ he steps closer and lifts his arm, diligently offering it to him while those tired eyes take in the process quietly from here on out. the likelihood that he is thinking about the closet mess is quite high. ]
[And there it is again, that alien look. That foreign, far-off, and indescribable expression fuming across his face, making his shrill eyes wander, hazy and distant. Because he does remember: the acrid stink of something burning in the basement, the feel of oil and gasoline on his claws, the confession that came after, and a deal made in ash:]
["If no one can take what's yours from you, you can't leave me."]
[Greed's lips stretch along the bandages, making his smile crease over the roll. He snaps his jaws once to cut off a strip.] Well, he's already got that, doesn't he? Both him and Alastor have the keys to this place, Blues. It was one of the things I gave 'em after - [He hovers his tongue at the roof of his mouth, weighing his options. A beat, and he continues.] - ah, but I suppose you already know about that, don't you?
[The former homunculus slowly unwinds the roll before slicing off a second strip with his claws.] I might not be able to protect him from himself, and I don't think either of us really could. But just like I told you - if he ever gets the stupid fucking idea in his head again that anyone can take what's mine, the 'Shield should be able to take care of that for the both of us. Call it a little guarantee. [As if making a point of it, Greed lazily lifts his chin. Instantly, that second of skin of his begins its ascent. It hitches up his torso in skittering fingers of black; the look of it like summoned tar crawling up, up, up to meet its maker.]
[The Sin lets it cut off in a ring around his throat.] Ever think that maybe part of his happiness happens to be you and that kid of his? Luce hasn't told me everything, but I know that much. And you two have some things to catch up on, right? Why don't you start there. Then, you can get back to me on what you're really trying to protect for him.
[With one hand, he lifts Michael's arm a bit higher as he works the first bandage around the wound. While he may be a monster in any right (in every right), the way he handles Michael: there's a delicateness, a care. Because avarice, ah avarice. It's far more than just the desire for money and wealth, no matter what Mammon has to say.]
[Greed huffs out a small laugh, letting it squeeze between the sharps of his teeth.] HA - ! Champion of your virtue. You sure got a funny way of thinkin' there, Blue Eyes. [He leans closer, a bit too close, and his eyes flick open wide.] This isn't anything. Least, not in the way you're thinking. And even if it was - [Shrrrr goes the first bandage as he blindly ties it tight.] - there'd be nothing forbidden about it. It's only a problem when people don't want something. Then, they're off limits. See, I may be greedy Michael, but even I have some standards. And I'm not interested if they aren't.
[He pulls away then, self-satisfied sneer teasing on his lip. He knows he won't get the upper hand on Michael here, but damn if a Sin can't give it a go.]
[The former homunculus unwinds the second wrapping as he traces the backs of his teeth with his tongue.] Same answer as before. If they denied it, then that's their choice. I'm not about to force anyone to do anything. [He lightly taps one of his big toes atop Michael's foot, urging him to move a bit so he can get closer. And it's then that his expression changes. Warmer, softer, and a million miles away; it's as if he's seeing something that's not there. As if he's watching something only he can see, flitting and dying in the thinning steam.]
[Greed begins to slowly wrap Michael's arm a second time.] So, if that's what they want, who would I be to deny them? I'd still make sure they're taken care of. They're mine, after all. But the people I know, Michael. Eh, let's just say that kind of ending isn't usually the case. [He tries to force a smile, tries his damnedest, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Not this time.]
[So, he moves on. Bravado at its finest, another Greed the Avaricious specialty.] Oi, didn't I tell you to stop being a pain in the ass for a second? [He hisses, more of a show than anything else.] Tch. You don't know them like I do. I'll give Envy one thing, least he's found .. whatever the fuck it is that he's found. [Friendship, companionship. Love, whatever that means. The Sin shrugs his shoulders and as he bends his neck, he takes the other end of the bandage into his mouth, pulling it taut atop the first.] Some of 'em might be able to, but there's a few that owe me, Blues. And I'm sorry, but I can't exactly let them slide.
[Anger, as quick as a flash in the pan, simmers on his face.] Besides, s'not really your problem, is it? Now, I really need you to do me a favor and shut up a second. Let me make sure I actually got this right. [The former homunculus touches the dressings with his claws. They don't feel too tight, least not to him. And while they aren't perfect, for now?]
[For now, it's enough.]
[Greed sighs through his nose.] Yeah, that's the thing with you. Always overthinking it. Guess it's somethin' I gotta get used to. [He turns a look back to Michael and as his lips pucker, the former homunculus tips his head to the side.]
[Then, without a single hint of a warning, he tries to scoop Michael up.]
After Lucifer was killed, yes, but I believe he was purposefully vague on the details. [ A pause, so he can give him a small, reassuring smile. ] No, I have no intention of attempting to squeeze them out of you. He had a reason for doing so and, while I may not like it, I will accept it.
[ Idly, he finds himself reaching up with his free hand to trace the path of Greed’s Shield when it begins to creep up his neck, but the touch his barely there and consists mostly of the grazing of nails against skin. When it settles, he watches it for a moment longer before lowering his hand. With all of the distractions, he hadn’t even noticed it wasn’t there earlier. ]
That hardly means I won’t try, he is my brother. Even if it meant my final breath, I would use it to save him. From himself, from the exorcists, from.. [ Father. He doesn’t manage to get the word out, but he is certain Greed can read between the lines. He has told him enough about his life. ] Lucifer shoulders a burden few could undertake, and has made it his life’s mission to pursue Charlie’s dream. To know that redemption lessens the numbers in Hell and tips the scales in favor of Heaven, that he is sending them to a place he will likely never see again, one that turned him away.
There isn’t a day that’s gone by since I arrived here where I haven’t been proud of him. [ At the mention of him possibly being a part of that happiness, he smiles. ] Some? We have everything to catch up on, so much that I often wonder if we’ll find the time to get to all of it here.
[ When Greed leans in, Michael stands his ground and meets the stare, eyes narrowing slightly. Eventually, he prods a finger against his forehead to keep him from getting any closer, looking amused. ] I’ve seen how wicked you can be, and everything about it would be forbidden for me. Temptation is a dangerous adversary, even in the hands of someone who would never force it.
[ All it takes is the light tap of the toe against his foot for Michael to step back and drop his hand back to his side. When the forced smile comes into play, he grabs Greed’s wrist to get his attention. ] Don’t do that. I am an open book, and have shared things with you that I haven’t told others. I will never pity you, so don’t feel the need to force something you don’t feel. Your bravado is unnecessary and you aren’t, I assure you, fooling anyone standing in this room.
[ Mercifully, however, he drops it after that and actually seems to give into his show. ] I could be even more intolerable and remind you that several seconds have already passed since you asked that of me, but I’m feeling charitable. I know that the affairs of your family don’t concern me but, if that is the case, I hope the ones you’re talking about never show up. I already have to keep an eye out for the Demon King’s brother, he said there is a chance he would attempt to harm Lucifer.
[ He can count the number of people who have told him to shut up in his life on one hand, most of them have been delivered by the former homunculus. Michael does quiet down, but only so he can test the movement in his arm and run his fingertips along his handiwork. A perfectly suitable job, at least he won’t have to worry about it getting infected. ]
Thank you. Truthfully, I don’t think you will ever grow accustomed to it. Some part of you will always be marginally frustrated by my thought process, and I think you’re well aware of th—AT!
[ The sound he makes is only slightly undignified, he should have seen this coming, but at least he doesn’t fight to get away. He just sits there, glowering up at him. ]
You do realize neither one of my legs are injured, correct?
Your own good ol'Daddy sir. [It's easy enough for him to pick up the sentence when Michael fails to do so. It's something else they have in common, ironic as it may be. And when the Sin spits it out, whatever personal vendetta he has comes with it: in the heavy narrowing of his eyes, in the tightness of his lip, so blank and not him at all. Greed chases the condensation on the mirror, watching as the water collects itself and falls (falls slow, falls quietly, down, lord, down). And he wonders, not for the first time, just how similar they really, truly are.]
[Then, his teeth show and like all else, whatever thoughts he has trickle down his back.] Tsk. No, he never should have gone through any of that in the first place. And neither should you. As for tipping the scales - [His eyebrows touch together, a light thing, and the wrinkles in his forehead soften around the gem lodged in his skin.] - I wouldn't know. That's not how it works where I come from. What you're talking about is a trade, but it isn't a very fair one now, is it?
But never mind. You've got all the time in the world now, don't you? So call him. Or do that text thing, whatever, once this is all over. Couldn't hurt. [The former homunculus shows off his throat to catch Michael in the corner pocket of his eye.] Oh - ? Is that right? How wicked I can be - [Trailing off, he flits the split of his tongue between his teeth, forcing it to quiver like a tuning fork.] - maybe for you, but I'll keep it in mind. Wouldn't want to ruffle your feathers.
[And he's about to go on, but Michael snags his wrist, and whatever else he has to say falls dead in his chest. It catches him off guard, really. Because he's used to his having that concern. That concern that stares him down, looks right through his 'Shield, and asks him to say something, say anything, anything at all.]
[Greed lowers his chin and a listless sneer winds up his face. He flattens his hand on Michael's, effectively smothering him with his telltale brand.] See right through me, do you? Guess it's about time. [He pauses to weigh his options.] This isn't the first 'Nest I've run, Blue Eyes. There was another, back in a place called Dublith. [The former homunculus pulls his fingers away, and his claws fold back against his palm.] It took 'em a while, but eventually, they found me.
King Bradley - [And ah, does that one name make his tone turn foul. It's venomous, is what it is; the way his voice claws up from his throat more similar to hot coals raked back to a broiling, roaring heat. Greed taps his teeth together.] - that's what everyone knew him by. Führer King Bradley.
[Behind him, his tail fills in the gaps. Each rattle is a warning, each buzz is a threat. And while he, by some miracle, manages to keep the noise down to a minimum, there's no denying that screech of steel. Like each and every one of his sharp points is begging for a chance to claw and tear their way through a ghost.]
[Greed jerks his neck and as something between his bones cracks, that hint of anger drops down again; the boiling point, dead and done.] Wrath. [He says, quietly.] And don't worry. He wouldn't even get the chance to get close enough to Lucifer to try. He owes me, Michael. Don't think I have to explain to you what that means. [The fine print is as clear as day: owing avarice comes with a heavy price. A heavy cost.]
[And oh, Heaven or Hell couldn't save a man with a debt to pay.]
[But it helps, even slightly, when he finally catches Michael out of his element. There are some things better left unsaid, after all. And considering what led them here, digging up the bones of things long dead is as useful as kicking around the corpse of a horse: it won't get them anywhere.] Hmn? Now, who said I was frustrated with you, Blues? I just said you were a pain in the ass. Which, for the record, you are. [Cheekily, the former homunculus shifts his weight to try to slide two of his arms under Michael's legs. Thankfully, the bar's empty, the night's done, and no one will be the wiser if he just so happens to be carrying the other man out bridal style.]
[Greed blindly kicks his foot backwards, forcing the door to smack along the outside wall.] Yeah, yeah. You can also save that for someone who gives a shit. [Because he doesn't.] I've got some extra clothes in the back, and the rooms are all empty. So unless you really want to fight me on it Blues, we're doing things my way.
I’ve never defied His Word, I didn’t think it was possible for me to doubt. He created me, everything that I am and am not is because he willed it to be so. Even after everything that has happened, I could not bring myself to hate Him. A silly sentiment, I imagine, when I could just as easily be cast out next.
[ He speaks the words with hesitance and, though he never looks up, it can be inferred that he is worried about who may hear him. Even his wings curl inwards when he speaks. He may love his Father, but he is also right to fear Him — all things considered. ]
We were the first, it was always going to be us. Our roles were decided for us and we played the parts we were given. The scales tipped the moment evil escaped from its prison. When an angel who didn’t know any better gave a gift that wasn’t his to give. I can still see him, Greed, down on his knees and begging for the forgiveness He never intended to give him.
In my waking hours, in my dreams. I often wonder if never being able to escape it is my price for not taking his hand that day because, had the roles been reversed, he wouldn’t have hesitated to save me.
[ Michael follows his lead, latching onto the present to keep from dwelling on the past. ] What would you have me say to him? I remember his eyes, they were the same eyes that begged me for help. It was as if he was reliving that day over again, and— [ He cuts himself off and simply shakes his head. ] I know Lucifer isn’t made of glass, but I still find myself wanting to handle him with care. I don’t want to mess this up, I can’t, but I still find myself saying the wrong things to him.
[ He is so afraid of failing him again, so much so that he would rather give him space than chance it. ] You said it yourself, you don’t take what isn’t offered, so there is no reason for me to fear you. [ There is a moment where he meets his gaze and looks into those eyes, almost seeming to be looking for something. ] I think there is very little I could offer you, and I respect you enough to be candid about that.
[ But he is quick to draw back. ] How many late night chats have we had? I don’t think it’s so much that I see through you as it is that I see you. It doesn’t matter how you try and dress yourself up, there’s an underlying sadness to you that I recognize. It calls to me, if that makes any sense.
Wrath.. [ He takes in his story and doesn’t interrupt him for the duration of it. It’s only when Greed starts to wind himself up that Michael reaches up catch him by the chin to ground him again. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares up at him until the buzzing of his tail begins to die down. ]
I can’t do anything about the pain of the past, but I can be mindful of the future. If he shows up here, Lucifer and I will both stand with you. We will help protect you and anyone else within these walls, you have my word on that. And no, I know exactly what it means, everything has a price.
[ Why is he putting up with this abuse? Now he is being toted around like a blushing bride, only he looks about as enthusiastic as a child being faced with the prospect of going to bed early. It’s quite comical, the way he just begrudgingly accepts defeat. ]
Pain in the ass—something or someone that causes trouble; a source of unhappiness. For the record, I simply have high expectations that typically don’t include being groomed and carried. In fact, I don’t believe anyone has done that before.
[ He shakes his head, but still takes a moment to keep an eye out for stragglers. Just because he isn’t killing people anymore doesn’t mean someone else is following his good lead. ]
No, I’m too tired to fight anymore. Going out there would be dangerous, they already dislikes seeing angels down here. They would have a field day with an injured one, not that I would make it easy for them. I know when I have lost.
[Michael's wings fold inward and it's then, in that hanging moment between the hallway and the door, that the Sin pauses. He waits, not for a sign, but for something else. Yet that's the thing for creatures like them: it never comes, does it? All those years, all that given time, and still. Still - ]
[Greed catches the door on the back of his foot and the wood knocks hollow again his 'Shield.] Didn't you say something before? About how mine can change? Well, sounds to me like you should start taking your own advice. [Shadows carve out his face as he shoos a look down the hallway, dreamy and a million miles away even now. Sharp as he is, in the bar's empty quiet, he's softer somehow. Between the graze of neon, the dark corners, and the consistent hang of smoke, everything predatory about him fades a bit. It isn't gone completely (not with that pucker to his lip or the crookedness of his smile), but it's close enough. A momentary reprieve from his constant state of bullshit and maybe, there is something to be said. About men and monsters and the things that made them.]
[The former homunculus steps backwards, causing the curls of his toes to rck-a-tck-tck along the floor.] See, that's where we're different, Michael. Even now, if Dad asked me again, I'd give him the same fucking answer as before. But he's not here, God isn't here. So whatever role you had to play? It doesn't matter.
[A haze hangs over his face. Whether that's the bathroom letting off steam, the hallway itself, or a trick of the light is anyone's guess. But as he carries Michael out into the hall, a flutter of red teases in the corner of his eyes; the look of it like a low-burning candle shuddering in the wind. Greed hums.] Be honest with him. He might not like what you have to tell him, but doing nothing isn't gunna do you any good. You made a deal with him, right? Let him know the offer's still there, it's just that this place had other ideas in mind. Like I told you, I don't know him as well as you do, but -
[He follows the long run of the hall, claws clipping, and his voice hushes to a slur in his throat.] - suppose it's all about second chances, right? This afterlife, I mean. And sure, you might not get it right the first time, but Luce - [The Sin plants his tongue behind his teeth to trace along the roof of his mouth.] - Lucifer is still your brother. Better to tell him the truth and see what his offer is first before you make that decision for him.
[Greed lets out a soft laugh as he passes by room after room. Without the crowd, the building itself is haunted in a way: by the empty beer bottles, half-finished games of pool, and the tables and chairs pushed away in such a manner that it wouldn't be hard to imagine people there hours before.] Who said I was asking something from you? Just call it my avarice, Blues. It runs a bit deep, is all. [His tail wafts out behind him, cutting through the fog to turn off a light or two as he makes his way further.] Nothing more, nothing less.
[This time, when he feels Michael's hand on his face, he doesn't pull back. Instead, he simply tilts his grin into the touch, letting his eyes fall shut.] Can't change what's already happened. There's no point thinking about it too much. He's dead, Michael. Just the same as I am. But if he does show up, do me the favor, would you? [The Sin's eyes crease open. Under a lick of darkness, whatever body they had to them before is gone and replaced by two, hollow points of red, red, red.]
[Greed dips into a sliver of light, and they return again as if nothing happened at all.] Just stay out of it. It's not something you'll want to see, trust me on that one. [He could get angry here, but given how the night's gone, it isn't worth it.] I might not be bad, Michael. But that doesn't mean I'm entirely good either. And if you're anything like your brother, best for you to avoid seeing that mess, hmn?
[Finally, he finds himself at the door to one of the backrooms and with a nudge of his elbow, the former homunculus waltzes on in. A single leather sofa stretches across the wall; its red color illuminated by a smokey hint of neon. Greed plants his back against the door, shutting it closed with a clap.] Everything has a price, glad you've finally caught up. [But where he should be dropping the Archangel off and making himself scarce, the Sin does the exact opposite. With Michael in his hands, he heftily drops onto the corner of the couch, forcing his neck back as his horns gently graze the wall.]
Ah, no. [He corrects, wagging one finger under Michael.] You, the both of you, are sometimes a lot more trouble than you're worth. But I wouldn't say you're a source of unhappiness, or whatever the hell you just said. As for high expectations - [He frees one of his arms from Michael to dig it through the side-table drawer.]
- wouldn't call it that either. The people that come here can never live a normal kind of life, Blue Eyes. Alive or dead, that hasn't changed. Ah. [Greed snares a pack of smokes and a matchbox from the collection of odds and ends before slapping the drawer shut. He starts with the cigarettes first, thumbing the lid open.] Besides, I couldn't let you just stay up there. Wouldn't sit right with me.
[He tosses a single cigarette into his jaw and his teeth snap around the filter, bending it.] Then you'll stay here until you're good to go. I know the first time Lucifer showed up, that regeneration of his wasn't working as well. Take your time. Not like I got anything to do. [He pushes the corner of the matchbox to ease it out. While he still has some left, the assortment is slim to say the least. Greed groans to himself as he plucks a single match from the box.]
My terms, huh. [Whoof, goes the match, and the Sin watches it burn between his fingers.] Nothing. I already told you what I wanted. Start living a little. And once you're done here, make sure to reach out to that brother of yours. You can tell him whatever you want, but leave the details of our little fight out of it huh?
[And with that, he lights up his smoke and shakes out the match.]
Anyone can change with the right attitude, but changing for us can lead to ruin. The higher you climb, the further the fall. I haven’t voiced my opposition not because I’m cowardly, but because, right now, I am one of the few allies Hell has. When they see what I have seen and finally understand, then I can speak candidly. I can’t help him if I’m down there with him, can I?
The walls have ears, Greed, you should know that better than anyone. Even here, I am careful with what I say. There are many versions of Heaven, I’ve found, and just as many versions of Him. If He does arrive here, who can say if it will be a magnanimous God or a spiteful one? The slope is a slippery one, but I intend to cross it.
[ The softness on the face of the former homunculus gives him pause, and he does find himself staring. He wonders what train of thought brought it on and how often he shows it to people — then he gets his answer. ]
It isn’t that simple, my role is all I’ve ever had. We were created for a sole purpose, I am having a difficult time moving beyond that. The fact that God isn’t here, anywhere, is alarming. Ever the dutiful son, I suppose, I strive for his approval even when he isn’t here to give it.
[ There is an amusement in his voice that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It hurts and, through no fault of God’s, he feels like he has been abandoned here. The only guidance he can rely on is what he has obtained over the years, and none of it included arriving in a place like this. ]
You do realize you can call him by a nickname, don’t you? A long time ago, I used to call him Luci. [ There is that fondness, because he is speaking of the person who means most to him in this world. ] When we met each other here again, aside from some of the animosity I expected, it was as if no time had passed. He said that seeing Father here first changed things. A small mercy.
My honesty is the problem, I’ve never been one to mince words and the years apart haven't done that any favors. If anything, it has gotten worse. Slow and steady wins the race, I suppose. I’ll try and keep that in mind next time, I think handling him with kid gloves would only piss him off more. He would call it babying.
[ And he would be right. ]
Your avarice is going to be the death of you. A bit deep? How modest you are. If your avarice were a geological point on Earth, it would be the Mariana Trench. [ A pause, where he studies him for a moment and recalls the time period he came from. ] It is the deepest point on the planet, at the bottom of the ocean. I’m saying your avarice is a bottomless pit.
[ Just in case there was any confusion. At the next bit, he furrows his brows and doesn’t say anything, as if unsure. Finally: ] That isn’t something I can promise you, but I can say that I won’t go looking for him. However, you know that Lucifer will fight for his friends. He won’t hear it from me but, if he does realize your relationship is antagonistic, and Wrath does threaten you upon arrival, he won’t sit idly by and observe it. You are important to him, and he is important to me. If it comes to it, I will step in.
I’m nothing like my brother. Lucifer sees something and sees possibilities, whereas I see something and only think of its practical uses. He strives for peace, while I wait for another war. [ He wants peace as well, but knows the likelihood grows slimmer each day. ] Is that your deep, dark secret? If you were inherently bad, I wouldn’t be here, Greed, and I’m not naive enough to believe in scary stories. You are a mess, but I’m still here.
[ Yeah, that is certainly something, he wasn’t expecting him to stick around, but it doesn’t seem to bother him either. A sudden laugh gets pulled out of him, and he looks up at him. ] Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Sometimes I think I could cheerfully strangle you, but that would put my piety into question.
You are harboring an angel in Hell that killed a demon, and all you want in return is for me to climb out from under my Father’s shadow? I’m sure you are already aware of this, but you are a strange man, Greed.
[ Rather than a jab, there is a smidge of fondness there. This is yet another example of how they were wrong, not all Sinners are repulsive monsters hellbent on turning those of a weaker constitution away from the light. This one has his own motives, yes, but aside from their battle, he has never felt unsafe here.
Mindful of the cigarette, Michael shifts his body so he can reach up with both hands and tilt Greed’s face down a fraction. He begins to murmur a string of words in a different language against his forehead, something older than the Earth itself. He might recognize a few of them if he has ever heard Lucifer speak the language. Otherwise, the only distinguishing one will be the quiet Amen at the end.
He seals the prayer with a chaste kiss planted in the middle of his forehead, then wordlessly moves to slide off of his lap and onto the opposite side of the couch. He lays down on his side, head against the arm of the couch, before curling a wing so he can survey it. Michael is meticulous in the way he goes over the feathers, checking Greed’s work thoroughly. ]
I’m not a fool, of course I have no intention of telling him. I don’t enjoy worrying him needlessly. We both survived, we can leave it at that. The only fortunate part is I wasn’t in possession of my sword. You wouldn’t have crept away relatively unscathed if I had it.
[ He curls himself up to make himself smaller at first, not wanting to crowd the other man with his limbs. Eventually, however, he stretches his legs out across Greed’s lap and seems to get comfortable. ]
.. it was a prayer, for protection. If anyone is in need of one, it’s you.
[All along his face, the smoke plays its tricks. From the tip (bright orange and burning low) to the swirls that finger around his chin like a dead-lover's caress, it knots itself around him; the thin trails tightening and loosening between the neon glow as softly as secrets, whispered through the cracks.]
[Greed inhales, and the tip of his cigarette bristles; the crackle of crinkling paper, brisk and sharp.] Mn. Can't say you're wrong. There's always rumors, Michael. And you're right. Information is worth a lot in my line of work. That much hasn't changed. So, I guess we'll just leave it that, then. A little secret between you and me.
[The tips of his teeth sink into the filter, causing it to bleed out a leak of silvery-blue along his lip. It's stagnant and still; the look of it like incense rolling over its burner. The former homunculus settles his back against the sofa and as the leather meets his skin with a damp groan, he folds one leg over the other and a small snort puffs around his nose.] Ha, not sure you'd like the other nicknames I got for your brother. [He charms in, the smile on his face merely a crack. He reaches down to press Michael lightly on the chest with his finger.] Not that I got anything to hide, mind. But fine. Luce it is.
Y'know, I was ready to fight you then, right? [Using his chin as a tipping point, he urges his head lazily against his shoulder and the earring in his ear pats softly against his cheek.] Glad we kept things peaceful. Believe it or not, I like you, Blue Eyes. Even if you do have a habit of making things a lot more complicated than they have to be. [With his other hand, the former homunculus cups the cigarette as he takes another long drag. And while the tip of it shrinks, while the ash grows, he lets it all tumble down; the small dump of dust all but forgotten on the floor.]
[Greed places his arm back across the sofa, leaving the smoke to fume between his fingers. When he barks again, the sound is much softer than before. Softer, but no less demanding.] Gahaha! Nothing modest about me. I am Greed, remember? I want everything you can think of. So, you're right. My avarice doesn't have any limits. [Without thinking about it, he thumbs the end of his cigarette, sending a sprinkling soot into the air.] Just hope you're not gunna hold it against me.
[He shifts then when the subject of Wrath comes up again. It's a subtle movement - a slight twist of his hip, the way his shoulders seem to pull inward just a hair. The former homunculus lifts his arm and as he guides the cigarette back to his face, he eats away at it. He lets the tobacco pillow on his tongue, bitter and dry. Because he can still see it all as clear as day: his charging blindly into a fight they could never win, the drowned lumps of bodies floating in a sewer, the hot cut of steel slicing cleanly through his throat, leaving him pinned up against cold brick like a trembling, dying bug. Wrath, at the end of it all, with a smile on his face he never truly deserved.]
[The Sin exhales and pinches the end of his cigarette, snuffing it with a hiss.] Wouldn't do you much good, anyway. No one stays dead here, right? What's the point? [He examines what's left of his cigarette and as the embers blink out, he tosses it into a nearby tray.] No, if he does show up, you won't like what I plan to do, Michael. Besides, he doesn't have the same things we do. It'd be too easy for either of you, and he already died on me once before I had my chance. So, best to avoid it.
[And oh, how close he is to a threat. In the form of his teeth as they walk the line between sharp points and curving tusks. Thankfully, they settle on the former and as Greed shrugs, he shoos the whole thing away with a lazy, half-hearted flick of the wrist.] Ehh, Luce is trying to make a new life for himself here. Can't say I blame him for avoiding things like that. Leave it guys like us, right? [He peels open one of his eyes, shooting a look towards Michael.] I'm no stranger to war, Michael. Kinda a whole thing back where I'm from. And maybe you should. Don't think just because I left the rest of 'em it means I'm entirely innocent either.
[Hearing Michael laugh (actually laugh), the Sin arches an eyebrow. Then, without missing a single beat, he joins in; the noise in his throat, short and wheezy.] You could try. But again, strangling me isn't gunna really cut it. I'll just come back. Now, if you really want to kill me, you'll have to try a bit harder. [Greed taps the side of his temple with his claw once, twice.] Still won't do much, but it'll save you a whole lot of time over choking me out.
[But then, everything changes. Everything changes and as Michael grabs his face, the Sin goes stark stiff. He can hear Michael talking (with those words, those old words, those foreign words), can feel his breath on his forehead, and all he can do is watch. Watch the wall and all of its grit and layered-over graffiti as a whisper of someone (someones) tickles at the back of his skull:]
["Friendship isn't something you can just forget!"]
["Do you want to be allies?"]
["Wait - !"]
[Greed feels Michael slip off his lap and the grin on his face creases up one side of his jaw.] Saying a little prayer for me now, are you? Wouldn't worry yourself too much, Blues. I'll be fine. I always come back, right? [He hums. Whether he's thinking about it or if it's just simply his nature, the former homunculus drops one of his hands onto Michael's leg. And it isn't a lewd gesture, nor is crude. It's simply a weight; a weight of a touch, and ah, if anyone could have ever guessed it would be them, the two of them, here - ]
[The last of the cigarette smoke thins on the ceiling, and the Sin rolls his ankle.] Guess you'll just have to try harder, won't you? [He teases as his knuckle runs circles on Michael's skin.] Ah, well. Another time. But you should get some rest there, Blues. I'll make sure no one comes in to bother you. Fair enough?
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["You don't need me anymore, kid."]
[The Sin spreads his fingers, running them through Michael's hair to tease out any knots.] Yeah, thing is - [His eyes shift, turning back to the angel before him with the tenderness of a viper that means no harm.] - it won't do much good. What's happened happened. Can't really change it, hmn? [He coils his knuckles around a stubborn tangle to slowly unwind it.] Some things are better left unsaid. Secrets, Blue Eyes. Sometimes, they're worth it. But this one? [He puckers his lip with a light hum.] Let's just say it's a whole lot more trouble than ya need, and we'll leave it at that.
Mn. [The former homunculus lets his hand drop out of Michael's hair, wet and slippery.] But this place isn't yours, is it? So, why should you be held to something that never belonged to you in the first place? That's the thing. Nothing's impossible. You might always be in control back where you come from, but here? Well. [His upper lip twitches, leveling between anger and acceptance. And he's already said it, hasn't he? What's happened happened. Three days from now, whoever Michael's killed will be back again. Whether they're angry, bitter, or forgiving is the bigger question.]
[But that's not today. That's not tomorrow. And so, the former homunculus settles on the present.]
[Greed huffs a sound through his nose. Sometimes, he wonders if he got the better part of the bargain. Lucifer and Michael may outlast and outstand him by years, but he managed to get his freedom, didn't he? He was able to leave. Leave, experience, and take as time went on. No duty shackled him and no rules applied. Only the ones he made. The ones he made and continues to do so even here.]
You really are that, aren't you? Pure or whatever. But don't get the wrong idea. [He sinks his hand, wets it, then runs it across another one of Michael's wings, letting the water slip like silk off the cool-black of his skin.] You talk about me caring like it's the same. And I'm here to tell you again that it isn't. It isn't a blessing or a curse, Michael. Sometimes it just is, just as I'm me. Hierarchy, right? Everyone's got this whole idea that greed is just for money and power -
[Dreamily, the Sin traces one of Michael's feathers with his thumb; his touch as delicate as someone admiring a piece, a trinket, unique in design.] - for sex, status, glory. But then, what about wanting to bring someone back from the dead? What about saving someone you love? About getting out of a bad situation? Deny it all you want, but all of that is still greed.
Humans, even your kind, think there's a right and wrong to wanting. There isn't. Not to me. [There are rules, sure. Certain rules only him and him alone will ever know. But desire? Desire doesn't come in black and white, nor does it balance on a scale. No instead, it lives in the comfortable gray; where choice, decision, and the ability for both are all that matter.]
[Greed shimmies his claw through the mangled tufts of a feather, smoothing it straight again.] I can't really say you're wrong about that. Because you're right, it isn't fair. They weren't given the option. So, why should you or any of us hold them to the same standards? [He shifts his weight and the water beneath them sloshes lonely along the edges of the tub.] Everyone wants something, Michael. Things, people, experiences. Maybe, that's the beauty you're looking for. Think about it. Might find out it's not so complicated.
[Once the last of the soap is gone and the water comes back clear, the former homunculus wraps himself around Michael again. It takes some effort (what with the tub as slick as it is and Michael's wingspan practically eating up half the room), but eventually he gets to a stand. And as a flood spews out of them, the Sin guides one of his legs over the side of the tub, forcing it to the floor with a soggy, wet-leather squshh.] Knock that off, that coward talk. You didn't know what you were up against. You had no idea what would happen. Take the lesson instead, Blues. The rest of it doesn't suit ya.
[Oh yeah, he does not give a shit he's addressing Michael that way. He's never given a shit. Authority, high-powers: he'll bite and snap at them all the same.]
[Greed reaches out with a spare hand, grabbing two black towels off a hanger.] Then I guess you're staying here for the night, aren't you? [He asks fully aware and already knowing the answer. Michael can protest all he wants: he's all but made the decision for him.]
[So, with an expression overly exasperated, dramatic, and a bit sarcastic, the Sin tries to drop a towel over Michael's head as he makes his way from the bathtub.] Oh, ho. Getting cheeky with me now? You should know better.
[He walks through the bathroom, heels squishing, boots squeaking, with a trail of water growing behind him so bloated and drenched, it would make most men wince.] I want everything, hmn? But for now - [The length of his tail is the last thing that slips out of the tub and as it goes, the barbs of it quietly (secretly) catch the stopper by its chain. One pull, and the woes of hours ago slowly begin disappear. Where? Only Truth knows. And maybe, it's better that way.]
[Greed flicks his tail, expanding the spines at the tip with a metallic twng of steel.] - try living for once. You and that brother of yours have this habit, this stupid fucking idea, that you don't deserve it. So, we're gunna do things my way. [He snidely sucks on a tooth.] See, I can't stand when people deny themselves, Michael. Doesn't sit well with me. There's no point. From now on, you're gunna start living. Really living. That's the deal.
[A heat, like a warm furnace, like an unknown something, reaches up to his throat. It isn't burning like before. No, there's no viciousness to speak of. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's welcoming. Welcoming in that way a fireplace is when the whole world's gone cold, cold, cold. Greed tilts his head and as all the jewels around his neck shift wet against his chest, he shows his teeth to Michael; sharp, slivering, and beckoning all the same.]
But first thing's first - let's get you dried off.
no subject
Yes, you’re entitled to your secrets, forget that I attempted to pry. I just.. I’m not accustomed to this, any of this. I suppose that’s the reason I ask you as many questions I do, because I want to understand.
[ he closes his eyes, unknowingly leaning against those claws like a feline would not a good scratch. once he catches himself, he straightens up and hums to himself, taking the time to gather his thoughts before continuing. ]
Because something Lucifer said has been bothering me, I don’t think there will ever be a time I don’t think about it. God is omniscient, meaning He created and nurtured our gifts only to turn me against my brother because he knew I would obey His Word. If that’s the case, then I have never been in control. If I was a pawn this entire time, then what is my purpose?
It should be reassuring, making my own decisions, but the magnitude of that truth is.. something else. [ ah, he mentally latches onto the question of his purity, though he sounds mildly perplexed. ] I would not be an angel without it, did you think I was otherwise? My views have started to become various shades of gray, but my virtue is intact.
Can you blame me, when the only other representation of Greed I have known is Mammon? I know that it’s unfair to compare the two of you, there is no contest there. But my views have been black and white for so long that I’m having a difficult time adjusting. In time, I know my doubt will fade.
[ Michael’s chin finds the top of his knees again and the wing Greed is fussing with twitches. shortly after, his shoulders sag, the only visible cue that the ministrations are welcome. ] No, I won’t deny it, a want is a want. But when you find you have to remind me often, remember that we — Lucifer and I — were taught that Sins were evil deeds, like telling a child a cautionary bedtime story to keep them from acting recklessly.
You’ve shown me that there is more to it than that, and I am willing to learn. No one can say whether what we learn here returns home with us, but I hope this part does. If I encompass the gray areas into my Judgment, maybe it will not be so devastating to families. Some people sin because it’s unavoidable, it should be taken into consideration.
[ he doesn’t look back at him because he expects to see his usual lazy, shit-eating grin on his face and he is too tired to deal with it. when he speaks up again, his voice is too soft. ] I thought I knew what I wanted in this eternal life, but I’ve found myself with more questions than answers. How do you befriend them, Greed? Knowing that their lifespans are stunted, that they may go to a place that you will never see them again. I suppose what I’m asking is: is the pain of losing them worth the pain of only having them in your life for a short time?
[ he isn’t even speaking solely of their respective homes now. someone he has grown to respect could disappear tomorrow and he would never know their fate. in his own world, he would at least able to say farewell — or they would meet again in Heaven. the variables here are ever-changing, there are no guarantees.
he is learning though, as he doesn’t try to argue with him about his perceived cowardice. ]
If I protest, would you even listen? [ he tests his fingers and toes, finding his limbs are less sore than they were before the bath, something he is more than thankful for. it means he could probably leave and make it back to heaven in one piece, but he only nods lamely when Greed inquires about it.
he goes about patting himself dry with the towel, saving his hair for last. he avoids the injured arm as best he can, thankful to find he hasn’t lost any function in it. without the rest of the grime, a distinct set of bite marks can be found near his shoulder and ending closer to his elbow. the wound is jagged, he likely would have lost the arm had he not been a capable fighter. ]
I haven’t begun to get cheeky, you are simply a difficult man to read. Even with my power, giving you everything isn’t achievable right now. [ look at this little angel doing his homework, he doesn’t say it’s impossible this time. ] But I can, and will, attempt to honor that. Living, I mean.
[ he draws the towel up and starts on his hair, whipping it up into a fashion that screams less heaven’s bulldog and more the family cockatiel. when he looks up at him again, his bangs have flooded his eyes. ]
While you’re drying off, I will clean up the feathers. It’s the least I can do for you helping me.
no subject
Eh, don't worry about it so much, all right? Wouldn't expect ya not to ask. Information's worth a lot, Blue Eyes. Can't really blame you for wanting to know, otherwise I'd be a bit of a hypocrite. [He sheds his boots, making them flop like dead fish on the floor. Greed stretches his long, raptor(ed) toes.] It's not exactly what you went through, but close enough. Purification, I mean. Easier to put a pawn back into the rotation if they never remembered they rebelled in the first place, hmn? Clean slate.
[Michael starts drying his hair, and the Sin reaches up, smothering one of his hands across the top of his head. He shakes his wrist lightly, briskly, to try to shoo away the wet.] That's the thing. Good ol'Pops had a similar idea. But he couldn't plan for everything, hmn? See, he had a purpose for me, Blue Eyes. Just like he did the rest of 'em. We were supposed to help him bring about the Promised Day. But after 100 years, I couldn't live under him, I couldn't take his orders. My greed just wouldn't let me. And you'd think he'd know that, given that he made me. Ha - !
[Greed humorlessly barks out a laugh.] Suppose that's why he wasn't too happy when I told him no. [He lifts his hand away to slide his fingers through his own hair and the smile on his face grows. Grows with all that same, challenging demeanor he's known for. The former homunculus lifts his shoulders and as he grips his shirt, he lazily peels it over his head.] Ah, you're getting there, but you're still asking the wrong question, Blue Eyes.
[The shirt is absolutely drenched and when he tosses it into a corner, it hits the floor like a slap to the face. Another problem for later, apparently. The Sin grabs a new towel, swinging it over his shoulders. He squeezes it by both ends and with a back-and-forth motion, he begins to dry himself off.] I can't say whether or not you were a pawn before, but what I can tell you is that it doesn't matter now. Purpose's got nothing to do with it. So, let's try again.
What do you really want, Michael? [He passes the towel over his head, smearing the spikes of his hair forward. And it's one of those fleeting moments when he doesn't look so poisonous. When his desire isn't so directed, so vile, or so wicked. Any other time, it'd be a stinging sort of thing - like turpentine, burning at the throat. However, here? Here, that need is lighter, softer. Like the very same steam fogging up the glass all around them, it's gentle in an odd sort of way. Still weighty, still demanding, but mindful of its audience.]
[Greed squints his eyes.] And I don't mean things or possessions. I mean, if you could do anything with this afterlife, what would it be? And keep in mind, those rules of yours don't apply. [Is he going to flick an Archangel's ear? Oh, you bet he is. The Sin snaps his finger as he peels away from Michael; his speed, sluggish and comfortable.] Don't have to answer me now. Hell, you don't even have to tell me. But you're gunna have to figure it out one way or another. Otherwise, what's the point, right?
[The former homunculus steps over to the sink and swipes his hand along the mirror. When he sees his reflection, it's muddy at best. Condensation clings along the glass like dew, turning the image of him, of the two of them, to a blur. He lowers his chin, forcing his eyes shut under the pressure of his grin.] Yeah well, Mammon's a piece of shit. And if I'm ever given the opportunity, I'll make sure to show him what real avarice looks like.
[He chances a look in the mirror again to focus on Michael.] Nothing wrong with too much hope there, Feathers. If they do, do me a favor, would ya? Tell your old man he can shove it. [He opens the mirror with a soft, bouncy click. The collection inside is an odd assortment: colognes and perfumes, toothpaste with an accompanying brush that's met a horrible fate, lotions, a bottle of cleaning alcohol. He grabs a couple of odds and ends, wedging them between his fingers.]
We were built to last. Humans weren't. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking for a way to change that. [A flicker of solemness touches his face, only to leave again. Deflection: another Greed the Avaricious specialty.] But maybe we've both got it wrong, huh? Maybe that's just - [He pauses, nails twitching, and his expression fights itself. Because he knows loss, and he knows what happens when a life gets cut too short.]
[The Sin touches his lip with his tongue and shrugs.] - maybe it's just the price of it, Blues. Nothing in this life or the next is free, hmn? Now, this isn't gunna feel great. [Turning, he shows off his collection of bottles, including the alcohol.] And you could do that, but I think we've already made it pretty clear I'm bad at taking orders.
[Greed makes his way back across the bathroom. Had this been under different circumstances, he would find it funny that he has some height on the other man. He keeps his mouth shut this time, though. Well, until Michael chimes in about him being difficult to read. And how could he not?] Am I? [He asks, tilting his head just enough to make the gem in his ear sway.] And here I thought I've been pretty simple.
Even with that power of yours, I don't think you could. I always want more, Michael. Sure, money, power, sex, glory - I get it, but it's - [It's never enough, he fails to say. And that's another skirting of the truth. Because none of that really matters. None of that is worth what he actually has, what he truly wants. And as the former homunculus soaks his claws in alcohol, as he smells the pungent sting of it tickle in his nose, he knows. Knows and realizes this isn't the last time he'll be here.]
[So, he skips over it all. For he will and forever be the creature chasing its own tail.]
[Greed spins the cap back onto the bottle with a free hand, closing it shut.] Good. Because if you don't, I know where you live. I know where both of you live. [He flicks a glance down at Michael. While his mouth still smiles, those eyes of his tell a different story. They're cold. Cold, still, and waiting. Then, the second passes, and whatever's on his mind dies with it.] Might not be thanking me in a second. Feel free to grip on if it hurts too much.
[And with that, he plants his hand against the angry mark along Michael's skin, smearing it with the sterile bite of alcohol.]
no subject
What you’ve told me about yourself, as I’ve said before, does not leave the room it was shared in. [ while Greed fusses with his boots, Michael stretches his wings out sharply to rid them of any lingering water. he snaps his fingers and one portal opens behind him, with another appearing over the bathtub—so the excess water drops into the tub rather than all over the floor and Greed.
that’s the extent of his magic tricks for the day. the portals disappear just as quickly as they appeared, giving Michael time to get a better look at his arm now that he isn’t covered in gore. ]
For a man of planning, his oversights were numerous. When you give life to something, you can hardly complain when it doesn’t go according to plan. Life has never and will never work like that. The experiences accumulated in life shape the person, not the will of anoth—
[ an amusing sputtering sound erupts from beneath the towel he was using and his feathers puff up like a startled cat’s tail when he steps on some feathers and nearly slips. despite catching himself, he still gives the floor a look that is half surprised, half exasperated. rather than comment on it, he eventually wraps the towel around himself. ]
Everyone is always reaching for more when they should be happy with what they have been given. There is no blessing in immortality, it is a cursed life. Seeing the world fall victim to the same evils over and over again, despite the attempts to better it, is disheartening. [ he studies the man carefully, eyebrows furrowing as he touches his ear. how rude. the silence drags on longer than it should before Michael begins, hesitantly: ]
To say no when something comes across my desk that I don’t believe in, to fight for souls that can be saved rather than battle against the ones that can’t. To make up for the time Lucifer and I lost, and get to know Charlie. And I want them, Sinners and Winners alike, to know that they are not alone here. Whatever problems they have, I will help them—not because it’s expected of me, but because I want to.
I want them to know that, if they are in peril, someone will be there to catch them. [ because he knows all too well how difficult it is to fight a losing battle alone. he could add to his list, but that seems like enough to satisfy his companion for now. ]
Only if you let your Father know that he pales in comparison to you and your siblings. .. No, I haven’t met them, and I imagine they aren’t all like you, but they have the chance to be if they want it. To be better than him, to do better. [ he crouches down to grab a handful of discarded feathers, then moves onto another pile. ]
I understand you wanting more time for them. The world can be cruel and take them far too soon, but they were always meant to burn brightly and die out. Before this place, I might have called you selfish for wanting to extend their lives, but I’m beginning to understand. Especially knowing what they are returning home to.
[ he bites back a comment about being a warrior, he is no stranger to injuries or ointments. ] It’s precisely the simplicity that makes it difficult to read you. You make no excuses and your intentions are clear, you don’t care who hears them or if your words might be misconstrued. It should be a refreshing perspective, but I still feel like you are hiding something deep down. Something that I’ve no intention of pressing you about.
[ some secrets, after all. ]
Why, Greed, if I didn’t know any better I would think that is a threat. Or is it a promise? Either way, it— [ he is cut off by a sharp hiss, sucked in through gritted teeth. despite the offer to grab onto him, he settles for balling up the fist of his other hand and letting his nails dig into his palm. ]
You’re right, I revoke my thanks. [ he does not. ]
no subject
No, you don't have to remind me, and I wouldn't know. I haven't asked. It's none of my business. He hasn't asked for mine, only seems fair I do the same. [He closes one of his eyes with a wink, sarcastic and flirtatious even now.] And he's free to make his own decisions, right? Good or bad, he's got that choice here. Just as you do.
[He slips his fingers through his hair again, coaxing the spikes of it to an upward slant.] Like I told you before, there are some things about me that'll just make it complicated. And I don't think either of us want that, do we?
[Of course here, he's referring to Lucifer. But it could apply to any of them: to the people who call the 'Nest their home, to those he's taken in and claimed as his. Adding on extra baggage wouldn't do them any good. Nothing can take back what's happened and histories don't rewrite themselves. The point's all moot.]
[So, he drops it and instead turns his attention on Michael and the portals that suddenly appear out of no where. He shouldn't (and isn't) surprised that the Archangel comes with tricks all his own. And he's about to ask more, about to pry just a little on the subject, but then Michael puffs up like a spooked cat, and ah, a Sin can't help himself, can he?]
[Greed barks out a laugh, a real, genuine laugh as he claps one of free hands on Michael's shoulder; his cold-carbon skin warmed like a heated stone.] Ha - ! Watch it there, Feathers. Don't need ya crackin' your skull open on top of everything. Wouldn't look good for either of us, and I really don't wanna be the one to explain to your brother how you ended up unconscious in my bathroom.
[The Sin's eyebrows crease up his forehead, and his lips squeeze together, egotistical and sly.] Are you forgetting who I am again? How many times am I gunna have to tell you before you get it? It's never enough for me. And immortality? Real immortality? [He presses the forks of his tongue behind the flats of his upper teeth.] That's always been on the top of the list. [A knowing look passes by his face and as he slowly (tentatively, reluctantly) peels his fingers off the other man's shoulder, the former homunculus hums to himself.]
Then you've already got your answer, don't you. Tch, you heroic types - [He trails off, looking up towards the ceiling as a distraction while he mindlessly tries to shoo a piece of Michael's hair from his face.] Can't help yourself, can you? [For a second time, his fingers linger. As if he's holding the moment for all it's worth and keeping it for him and him alone. Eventually though, he settles his hands around the thinnest part of his waist and grips his nails into his hips.]
[The name Morningstar may mean Lightbringer, but for him? For him, he's got a new definition. A word that begins with P and ends in Ant and oh, will it always prove to be trouble, trouble, trouble.]
[Thankfully, he's a creature built for it.]
[Greed momentarily goes quiet. He should have known the subject would come up one day. But as he maps out the angry marks on Michael's skin (with a cool look, with a distant look), he can't stop himself from sneering a little. It's a vicious expression. Like a devil being told the details of a ridiculous bargain. The Sin sways his head to the side and the points of his eyes flicker between both the blow-out point and the stillness of a twitching, trembling needle.]
Maybe one or two of 'em, sure. I'll give you that much. But you don't know them like I do. Don't give them so much credit. [His jaw grinds up a smile from somewhere deep, deep down in the cesspool he calls a core.] Envy's here, if you have to know. And while I don't trust a single fucking thing he says most of the time, it looks like he may finally be taking my advice. As for the rest -
[Using a free hand, he touches the necklaces around his throat, letting the tips of his claws skirt his skin.] - don't underestimate them. Because you're right, I'm not like them. Even at the end of it all, they thought they were better than everything else. Humans, chimeras. [His lips stretch and spread across his teeth so taut, it's a miracle in itself his skin doesn't crack.] I left them twice, Michael. And both times, they didn't change. I don't think being here would make much of a difference.
[The spite leaves just as quickly as it came; a blip, and no more. And as his tail chimes steel against the tile below, the former homunculus turns on his heel towards a small, linen-closet door. He knuckles the knob between his fingers.] See, I don't think it's difficult at all. I'm a pretty simple guy, Blues. [He yanks open the door to rummage through it. Towels, hand cloths, plastic bottles: they all get dropped to the floor as he digs deeper, uncaring and oblivious to the mess he's making. He pauses once, and only once, when Michael mentions something about hiding, but he's quick to collect himself.]
[Greed sinks his nails into a roll of bandages before shutting the door with his knee.] And what if I don't? [He pivots on the balls of his feet, causing his claws to scrape new gashes into the tiles below.] Could just be you're overthinking it again.
But I guess you're just going to have to find out, aren't you? And who knows, Michael. Maybe, it's a little bit of both. [Ah, and there's that sarcasm again, rearing its head with a rattling tail and a smile as slick as a puddle of mud. The Sin unwinds the bandages.] Now, think you could do me the favor and stop being a pain in the ass for a second?
[He has four hands, he could use those four hands, but old habits are hard to break. As such, the Sin takes the end of the roll into his mouth, yanking it tight.]
no subject
Lucifer plays his part well. To the eyes of someone on the outside looking in, he may very well be the cocky and charismatic ruler of Hell — but he hasn’t changed as much as he thinks he has. When we struck our deal, I told myself I would protect what little happiness he has managed to hold onto. If they make him happy, then who am I to get between that?
I just.. [ he cuts himself off, looking down at the clump of feathers in his grasp. while it doesn’t hurt to admit it, it does feel strange. ] I’m afraid, afraid that one day all of the reassurances in the world won’t be able to bring him back. It sounds foolish, yes, I realize that.
No, we don’t. All the same, if you do need to talk about anything, you know where my office is. [ Michael is still giving Greed an unimpressed look at his laughter when he cocks his head off to one side, as if lost. ]
Have you become a champion for my virtue? You make it sound like this is some sort of forbidden tryst. You found me in a state, cleaned me up and helped me regain my strength. There is nothing to confuse, I have every intention of telling him I was here. Why wouldn’t I?
[ the talk about immortality changes things, however. he actually looks concerned, continuing on gently. ] It would be an eternity, Greed, a life that you would be unable to share. If you could share it, what if your people declined it? You would have to watch them grow old and die, then repeat the process with those who take their place. How many would have to disappear before you regretted your choice?
I’m not being argumentative but, as someone who has that life, I’m curious. Human companionship is new to me, I’m trying to understand it through your eyes. [ to emphasize his resolve, he tips his face to look back up at him. ]
Heroic deeds aren’t my motivation and it may not be entirely altruistic of me to offer those things. The system in place right now is faulty, so I am trying something new in hopes of being able to implement it back home. Hate will get us nowhere but, perhaps, if we try to understand them, we can find common ground. It would ease the burden on Lucifer and Charlie and, in time, the animosity between Heaven and Hell may fade.
[ he is trying so damn hard to make this a reality, these are the types of notes lining the numerous journals in his room. ways to prevent conflict and eventually put a treaty in place. if the two sides can coexist here, it means there is a chance for them as well. ]
I was always taught to give someone the benefit of the doubt and to never judge a book by the cover. I just have to believe that if one Deadly Sin is capable of breaking free, then it’s achievable for the others as well. I think, maybe, that is why I feel so comfortable around you. You understand what it’s like to be one voice in a sea of thousands, going against the grain because you know what was asked of you was wrong. You did what I couldn’t.
[ he admires that aspect of his strength, more than he will ever be willing to convey. ] Maybe not, but did you ever think that maybe being separated from the others made Envy more willing to try? Siblings, in my experience, are often prone to foolish bravado and are eager to please their Fathers. Away from them, they are much more willing to hear an opinion that differs from the one they have been fed their entire lives, especially if it unburdens them.
[ after cleaning up the last of the feathers, he turns to watch him, making a face when he starts throwing things around. true to form, by the time Greed has turned around, Michael is on his way over to start cleaning them up — but then the sin closes the door. really, are you a homunculus or caveman? ]
I’m prone to overthinking, I will give you that much. All I know is what I see with my own two eyes. I suppose I could have misread someone once or twice in the past. [ no, no, he will not push, but he does raise an eyebrow and shoot him an amused look in return. ]
I will do my best. Fortunately for you, the idea of being manhandled this evening is on the bottom of my list. [ he steps closer and lifts his arm, diligently offering it to him while those tired eyes take in the process quietly from here on out. the likelihood that he is thinking about the closet mess is quite high. ]
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["If no one can take what's yours from you, you can't leave me."]
[Greed's lips stretch along the bandages, making his smile crease over the roll. He snaps his jaws once to cut off a strip.] Well, he's already got that, doesn't he? Both him and Alastor have the keys to this place, Blues. It was one of the things I gave 'em after - [He hovers his tongue at the roof of his mouth, weighing his options. A beat, and he continues.] - ah, but I suppose you already know about that, don't you?
[The former homunculus slowly unwinds the roll before slicing off a second strip with his claws.] I might not be able to protect him from himself, and I don't think either of us really could. But just like I told you - if he ever gets the stupid fucking idea in his head again that anyone can take what's mine, the 'Shield should be able to take care of that for the both of us. Call it a little guarantee. [As if making a point of it, Greed lazily lifts his chin. Instantly, that second of skin of his begins its ascent. It hitches up his torso in skittering fingers of black; the look of it like summoned tar crawling up, up, up to meet its maker.]
[The Sin lets it cut off in a ring around his throat.] Ever think that maybe part of his happiness happens to be you and that kid of his? Luce hasn't told me everything, but I know that much. And you two have some things to catch up on, right? Why don't you start there. Then, you can get back to me on what you're really trying to protect for him.
[With one hand, he lifts Michael's arm a bit higher as he works the first bandage around the wound. While he may be a monster in any right (in every right), the way he handles Michael: there's a delicateness, a care. Because avarice, ah avarice. It's far more than just the desire for money and wealth, no matter what Mammon has to say.]
[Greed huffs out a small laugh, letting it squeeze between the sharps of his teeth.] HA - ! Champion of your virtue. You sure got a funny way of thinkin' there, Blue Eyes. [He leans closer, a bit too close, and his eyes flick open wide.] This isn't anything. Least, not in the way you're thinking. And even if it was - [Shrrrr goes the first bandage as he blindly ties it tight.] - there'd be nothing forbidden about it. It's only a problem when people don't want something. Then, they're off limits. See, I may be greedy Michael, but even I have some standards. And I'm not interested if they aren't.
[He pulls away then, self-satisfied sneer teasing on his lip. He knows he won't get the upper hand on Michael here, but damn if a Sin can't give it a go.]
[The former homunculus unwinds the second wrapping as he traces the backs of his teeth with his tongue.] Same answer as before. If they denied it, then that's their choice. I'm not about to force anyone to do anything. [He lightly taps one of his big toes atop Michael's foot, urging him to move a bit so he can get closer. And it's then that his expression changes. Warmer, softer, and a million miles away; it's as if he's seeing something that's not there. As if he's watching something only he can see, flitting and dying in the thinning steam.]
[Greed begins to slowly wrap Michael's arm a second time.] So, if that's what they want, who would I be to deny them? I'd still make sure they're taken care of. They're mine, after all. But the people I know, Michael. Eh, let's just say that kind of ending isn't usually the case. [He tries to force a smile, tries his damnedest, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Not this time.]
[So, he moves on. Bravado at its finest, another Greed the Avaricious specialty.] Oi, didn't I tell you to stop being a pain in the ass for a second? [He hisses, more of a show than anything else.] Tch. You don't know them like I do. I'll give Envy one thing, least he's found .. whatever the fuck it is that he's found. [Friendship, companionship. Love, whatever that means. The Sin shrugs his shoulders and as he bends his neck, he takes the other end of the bandage into his mouth, pulling it taut atop the first.] Some of 'em might be able to, but there's a few that owe me, Blues. And I'm sorry, but I can't exactly let them slide.
[Anger, as quick as a flash in the pan, simmers on his face.] Besides, s'not really your problem, is it? Now, I really need you to do me a favor and shut up a second. Let me make sure I actually got this right. [The former homunculus touches the dressings with his claws. They don't feel too tight, least not to him. And while they aren't perfect, for now?]
[For now, it's enough.]
[Greed sighs through his nose.] Yeah, that's the thing with you. Always overthinking it. Guess it's somethin' I gotta get used to. [He turns a look back to Michael and as his lips pucker, the former homunculus tips his head to the side.]
[Then, without a single hint of a warning, he tries to scoop Michael up.]
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[ Idly, he finds himself reaching up with his free hand to trace the path of Greed’s Shield when it begins to creep up his neck, but the touch his barely there and consists mostly of the grazing of nails against skin. When it settles, he watches it for a moment longer before lowering his hand. With all of the distractions, he hadn’t even noticed it wasn’t there earlier. ]
That hardly means I won’t try, he is my brother. Even if it meant my final breath, I would use it to save him. From himself, from the exorcists, from.. [ Father. He doesn’t manage to get the word out, but he is certain Greed can read between the lines. He has told him enough about his life. ] Lucifer shoulders a burden few could undertake, and has made it his life’s mission to pursue Charlie’s dream. To know that redemption lessens the numbers in Hell and tips the scales in favor of Heaven, that he is sending them to a place he will likely never see again, one that turned him away.
There isn’t a day that’s gone by since I arrived here where I haven’t been proud of him. [ At the mention of him possibly being a part of that happiness, he smiles. ] Some? We have everything to catch up on, so much that I often wonder if we’ll find the time to get to all of it here.
[ When Greed leans in, Michael stands his ground and meets the stare, eyes narrowing slightly. Eventually, he prods a finger against his forehead to keep him from getting any closer, looking amused. ] I’ve seen how wicked you can be, and everything about it would be forbidden for me. Temptation is a dangerous adversary, even in the hands of someone who would never force it.
[ All it takes is the light tap of the toe against his foot for Michael to step back and drop his hand back to his side. When the forced smile comes into play, he grabs Greed’s wrist to get his attention. ] Don’t do that. I am an open book, and have shared things with you that I haven’t told others. I will never pity you, so don’t feel the need to force something you don’t feel. Your bravado is unnecessary and you aren’t, I assure you, fooling anyone standing in this room.
[ Mercifully, however, he drops it after that and actually seems to give into his show. ] I could be even more intolerable and remind you that several seconds have already passed since you asked that of me, but I’m feeling charitable. I know that the affairs of your family don’t concern me but, if that is the case, I hope the ones you’re talking about never show up. I already have to keep an eye out for the Demon King’s brother, he said there is a chance he would attempt to harm Lucifer.
[ He can count the number of people who have told him to shut up in his life on one hand, most of them have been delivered by the former homunculus. Michael does quiet down, but only so he can test the movement in his arm and run his fingertips along his handiwork. A perfectly suitable job, at least he won’t have to worry about it getting infected. ]
Thank you. Truthfully, I don’t think you will ever grow accustomed to it. Some part of you will always be marginally frustrated by my thought process, and I think you’re well aware of th—AT!
[ The sound he makes is only slightly undignified, he should have seen this coming, but at least he doesn’t fight to get away. He just sits there, glowering up at him. ]
You do realize neither one of my legs are injured, correct?
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[Then, his teeth show and like all else, whatever thoughts he has trickle down his back.] Tsk. No, he never should have gone through any of that in the first place. And neither should you. As for tipping the scales - [His eyebrows touch together, a light thing, and the wrinkles in his forehead soften around the gem lodged in his skin.] - I wouldn't know. That's not how it works where I come from. What you're talking about is a trade, but it isn't a very fair one now, is it?
But never mind. You've got all the time in the world now, don't you? So call him. Or do that text thing, whatever, once this is all over. Couldn't hurt. [The former homunculus shows off his throat to catch Michael in the corner pocket of his eye.] Oh - ? Is that right? How wicked I can be - [Trailing off, he flits the split of his tongue between his teeth, forcing it to quiver like a tuning fork.] - maybe for you, but I'll keep it in mind. Wouldn't want to ruffle your feathers.
[And he's about to go on, but Michael snags his wrist, and whatever else he has to say falls dead in his chest. It catches him off guard, really. Because he's used to his having that concern. That concern that stares him down, looks right through his 'Shield, and asks him to say something, say anything, anything at all.]
[Greed lowers his chin and a listless sneer winds up his face. He flattens his hand on Michael's, effectively smothering him with his telltale brand.] See right through me, do you? Guess it's about time. [He pauses to weigh his options.] This isn't the first 'Nest I've run, Blue Eyes. There was another, back in a place called Dublith. [The former homunculus pulls his fingers away, and his claws fold back against his palm.] It took 'em a while, but eventually, they found me.
King Bradley - [And ah, does that one name make his tone turn foul. It's venomous, is what it is; the way his voice claws up from his throat more similar to hot coals raked back to a broiling, roaring heat. Greed taps his teeth together.] - that's what everyone knew him by. Führer King Bradley.
[Behind him, his tail fills in the gaps. Each rattle is a warning, each buzz is a threat. And while he, by some miracle, manages to keep the noise down to a minimum, there's no denying that screech of steel. Like each and every one of his sharp points is begging for a chance to claw and tear their way through a ghost.]
[Greed jerks his neck and as something between his bones cracks, that hint of anger drops down again; the boiling point, dead and done.] Wrath. [He says, quietly.] And don't worry. He wouldn't even get the chance to get close enough to Lucifer to try. He owes me, Michael. Don't think I have to explain to you what that means. [The fine print is as clear as day: owing avarice comes with a heavy price. A heavy cost.]
[And oh, Heaven or Hell couldn't save a man with a debt to pay.]
[But it helps, even slightly, when he finally catches Michael out of his element. There are some things better left unsaid, after all. And considering what led them here, digging up the bones of things long dead is as useful as kicking around the corpse of a horse: it won't get them anywhere.] Hmn? Now, who said I was frustrated with you, Blues? I just said you were a pain in the ass. Which, for the record, you are. [Cheekily, the former homunculus shifts his weight to try to slide two of his arms under Michael's legs. Thankfully, the bar's empty, the night's done, and no one will be the wiser if he just so happens to be carrying the other man out bridal style.]
[Greed blindly kicks his foot backwards, forcing the door to smack along the outside wall.] Yeah, yeah. You can also save that for someone who gives a shit. [Because he doesn't.] I've got some extra clothes in the back, and the rooms are all empty. So unless you really want to fight me on it Blues, we're doing things my way.
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[ He speaks the words with hesitance and, though he never looks up, it can be inferred that he is worried about who may hear him. Even his wings curl inwards when he speaks. He may love his Father, but he is also right to fear Him — all things considered. ]
We were the first, it was always going to be us. Our roles were decided for us and we played the parts we were given. The scales tipped the moment evil escaped from its prison. When an angel who didn’t know any better gave a gift that wasn’t his to give. I can still see him, Greed, down on his knees and begging for the forgiveness He never intended to give him.
In my waking hours, in my dreams. I often wonder if never being able to escape it is my price for not taking his hand that day because, had the roles been reversed, he wouldn’t have hesitated to save me.
[ Michael follows his lead, latching onto the present to keep from dwelling on the past. ] What would you have me say to him? I remember his eyes, they were the same eyes that begged me for help. It was as if he was reliving that day over again, and— [ He cuts himself off and simply shakes his head. ] I know Lucifer isn’t made of glass, but I still find myself wanting to handle him with care. I don’t want to mess this up, I can’t, but I still find myself saying the wrong things to him.
[ He is so afraid of failing him again, so much so that he would rather give him space than chance it. ] You said it yourself, you don’t take what isn’t offered, so there is no reason for me to fear you. [ There is a moment where he meets his gaze and looks into those eyes, almost seeming to be looking for something. ] I think there is very little I could offer you, and I respect you enough to be candid about that.
[ But he is quick to draw back. ] How many late night chats have we had? I don’t think it’s so much that I see through you as it is that I see you. It doesn’t matter how you try and dress yourself up, there’s an underlying sadness to you that I recognize. It calls to me, if that makes any sense.
Wrath.. [ He takes in his story and doesn’t interrupt him for the duration of it. It’s only when Greed starts to wind himself up that Michael reaches up catch him by the chin to ground him again. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares up at him until the buzzing of his tail begins to die down. ]
I can’t do anything about the pain of the past, but I can be mindful of the future. If he shows up here, Lucifer and I will both stand with you. We will help protect you and anyone else within these walls, you have my word on that. And no, I know exactly what it means, everything has a price.
[ Why is he putting up with this abuse? Now he is being toted around like a blushing bride, only he looks about as enthusiastic as a child being faced with the prospect of going to bed early. It’s quite comical, the way he just begrudgingly accepts defeat. ]
Pain in the ass—something or someone that causes trouble; a source of unhappiness. For the record, I simply have high expectations that typically don’t include being groomed and carried. In fact, I don’t believe anyone has done that before.
[ He shakes his head, but still takes a moment to keep an eye out for stragglers. Just because he isn’t killing people anymore doesn’t mean someone else is following his good lead. ]
No, I’m too tired to fight anymore. Going out there would be dangerous, they already dislikes seeing angels down here. They would have a field day with an injured one, not that I would make it easy for them. I know when I have lost.
What are your terms?
WHEEZES i am so sorry
[Greed catches the door on the back of his foot and the wood knocks hollow again his 'Shield.] Didn't you say something before? About how mine can change? Well, sounds to me like you should start taking your own advice. [Shadows carve out his face as he shoos a look down the hallway, dreamy and a million miles away even now. Sharp as he is, in the bar's empty quiet, he's softer somehow. Between the graze of neon, the dark corners, and the consistent hang of smoke, everything predatory about him fades a bit. It isn't gone completely (not with that pucker to his lip or the crookedness of his smile), but it's close enough. A momentary reprieve from his constant state of bullshit and maybe, there is something to be said. About men and monsters and the things that made them.]
[The former homunculus steps backwards, causing the curls of his toes to rck-a-tck-tck along the floor.] See, that's where we're different, Michael. Even now, if Dad asked me again, I'd give him the same fucking answer as before. But he's not here, God isn't here. So whatever role you had to play? It doesn't matter.
[A haze hangs over his face. Whether that's the bathroom letting off steam, the hallway itself, or a trick of the light is anyone's guess. But as he carries Michael out into the hall, a flutter of red teases in the corner of his eyes; the look of it like a low-burning candle shuddering in the wind. Greed hums.] Be honest with him. He might not like what you have to tell him, but doing nothing isn't gunna do you any good. You made a deal with him, right? Let him know the offer's still there, it's just that this place had other ideas in mind. Like I told you, I don't know him as well as you do, but -
[He follows the long run of the hall, claws clipping, and his voice hushes to a slur in his throat.] - suppose it's all about second chances, right? This afterlife, I mean. And sure, you might not get it right the first time, but Luce - [The Sin plants his tongue behind his teeth to trace along the roof of his mouth.] - Lucifer is still your brother. Better to tell him the truth and see what his offer is first before you make that decision for him.
[Greed lets out a soft laugh as he passes by room after room. Without the crowd, the building itself is haunted in a way: by the empty beer bottles, half-finished games of pool, and the tables and chairs pushed away in such a manner that it wouldn't be hard to imagine people there hours before.] Who said I was asking something from you? Just call it my avarice, Blues. It runs a bit deep, is all. [His tail wafts out behind him, cutting through the fog to turn off a light or two as he makes his way further.] Nothing more, nothing less.
[This time, when he feels Michael's hand on his face, he doesn't pull back. Instead, he simply tilts his grin into the touch, letting his eyes fall shut.] Can't change what's already happened. There's no point thinking about it too much. He's dead, Michael. Just the same as I am. But if he does show up, do me the favor, would you? [The Sin's eyes crease open. Under a lick of darkness, whatever body they had to them before is gone and replaced by two, hollow points of red, red, red.]
[Greed dips into a sliver of light, and they return again as if nothing happened at all.] Just stay out of it. It's not something you'll want to see, trust me on that one. [He could get angry here, but given how the night's gone, it isn't worth it.] I might not be bad, Michael. But that doesn't mean I'm entirely good either. And if you're anything like your brother, best for you to avoid seeing that mess, hmn?
[Finally, he finds himself at the door to one of the backrooms and with a nudge of his elbow, the former homunculus waltzes on in. A single leather sofa stretches across the wall; its red color illuminated by a smokey hint of neon. Greed plants his back against the door, shutting it closed with a clap.] Everything has a price, glad you've finally caught up. [But where he should be dropping the Archangel off and making himself scarce, the Sin does the exact opposite. With Michael in his hands, he heftily drops onto the corner of the couch, forcing his neck back as his horns gently graze the wall.]
Ah, no. [He corrects, wagging one finger under Michael.] You, the both of you, are sometimes a lot more trouble than you're worth. But I wouldn't say you're a source of unhappiness, or whatever the hell you just said. As for high expectations - [He frees one of his arms from Michael to dig it through the side-table drawer.]
- wouldn't call it that either. The people that come here can never live a normal kind of life, Blue Eyes. Alive or dead, that hasn't changed. Ah. [Greed snares a pack of smokes and a matchbox from the collection of odds and ends before slapping the drawer shut. He starts with the cigarettes first, thumbing the lid open.] Besides, I couldn't let you just stay up there. Wouldn't sit right with me.
[He tosses a single cigarette into his jaw and his teeth snap around the filter, bending it.] Then you'll stay here until you're good to go. I know the first time Lucifer showed up, that regeneration of his wasn't working as well. Take your time. Not like I got anything to do. [He pushes the corner of the matchbox to ease it out. While he still has some left, the assortment is slim to say the least. Greed groans to himself as he plucks a single match from the box.]
My terms, huh. [Whoof, goes the match, and the Sin watches it burn between his fingers.] Nothing. I already told you what I wanted. Start living a little. And once you're done here, make sure to reach out to that brother of yours. You can tell him whatever you want, but leave the details of our little fight out of it huh?
[And with that, he lights up his smoke and shakes out the match.]
RIGHT BACK AT U
The walls have ears, Greed, you should know that better than anyone. Even here, I am careful with what I say. There are many versions of Heaven, I’ve found, and just as many versions of Him. If He does arrive here, who can say if it will be a magnanimous God or a spiteful one? The slope is a slippery one, but I intend to cross it.
[ The softness on the face of the former homunculus gives him pause, and he does find himself staring. He wonders what train of thought brought it on and how often he shows it to people — then he gets his answer. ]
It isn’t that simple, my role is all I’ve ever had. We were created for a sole purpose, I am having a difficult time moving beyond that. The fact that God isn’t here, anywhere, is alarming. Ever the dutiful son, I suppose, I strive for his approval even when he isn’t here to give it.
[ There is an amusement in his voice that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It hurts and, through no fault of God’s, he feels like he has been abandoned here. The only guidance he can rely on is what he has obtained over the years, and none of it included arriving in a place like this. ]
You do realize you can call him by a nickname, don’t you? A long time ago, I used to call him Luci. [ There is that fondness, because he is speaking of the person who means most to him in this world. ] When we met each other here again, aside from some of the animosity I expected, it was as if no time had passed. He said that seeing Father here first changed things. A small mercy.
My honesty is the problem, I’ve never been one to mince words and the years apart haven't done that any favors. If anything, it has gotten worse. Slow and steady wins the race, I suppose. I’ll try and keep that in mind next time, I think handling him with kid gloves would only piss him off more. He would call it babying.
[ And he would be right. ]
Your avarice is going to be the death of you. A bit deep? How modest you are. If your avarice were a geological point on Earth, it would be the Mariana Trench. [ A pause, where he studies him for a moment and recalls the time period he came from. ] It is the deepest point on the planet, at the bottom of the ocean. I’m saying your avarice is a bottomless pit.
[ Just in case there was any confusion. At the next bit, he furrows his brows and doesn’t say anything, as if unsure. Finally: ] That isn’t something I can promise you, but I can say that I won’t go looking for him. However, you know that Lucifer will fight for his friends. He won’t hear it from me but, if he does realize your relationship is antagonistic, and Wrath does threaten you upon arrival, he won’t sit idly by and observe it. You are important to him, and he is important to me. If it comes to it, I will step in.
I’m nothing like my brother. Lucifer sees something and sees possibilities, whereas I see something and only think of its practical uses. He strives for peace, while I wait for another war. [ He wants peace as well, but knows the likelihood grows slimmer each day. ] Is that your deep, dark secret? If you were inherently bad, I wouldn’t be here, Greed, and I’m not naive enough to believe in scary stories. You are a mess, but I’m still here.
[ Yeah, that is certainly something, he wasn’t expecting him to stick around, but it doesn’t seem to bother him either. A sudden laugh gets pulled out of him, and he looks up at him. ] Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Sometimes I think I could cheerfully strangle you, but that would put my piety into question.
You are harboring an angel in Hell that killed a demon, and all you want in return is for me to climb out from under my Father’s shadow? I’m sure you are already aware of this, but you are a strange man, Greed.
[ Rather than a jab, there is a smidge of fondness there. This is yet another example of how they were wrong, not all Sinners are repulsive monsters hellbent on turning those of a weaker constitution away from the light. This one has his own motives, yes, but aside from their battle, he has never felt unsafe here.
Mindful of the cigarette, Michael shifts his body so he can reach up with both hands and tilt Greed’s face down a fraction. He begins to murmur a string of words in a different language against his forehead, something older than the Earth itself. He might recognize a few of them if he has ever heard Lucifer speak the language. Otherwise, the only distinguishing one will be the quiet Amen at the end.
He seals the prayer with a chaste kiss planted in the middle of his forehead, then wordlessly moves to slide off of his lap and onto the opposite side of the couch. He lays down on his side, head against the arm of the couch, before curling a wing so he can survey it. Michael is meticulous in the way he goes over the feathers, checking Greed’s work thoroughly. ]
I’m not a fool, of course I have no intention of telling him. I don’t enjoy worrying him needlessly. We both survived, we can leave it at that. The only fortunate part is I wasn’t in possession of my sword. You wouldn’t have crept away relatively unscathed if I had it.
[ He curls himself up to make himself smaller at first, not wanting to crowd the other man with his limbs. Eventually, however, he stretches his legs out across Greed’s lap and seems to get comfortable. ]
.. it was a prayer, for protection. If anyone is in need of one, it’s you.
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[Greed inhales, and the tip of his cigarette bristles; the crackle of crinkling paper, brisk and sharp.] Mn. Can't say you're wrong. There's always rumors, Michael. And you're right. Information is worth a lot in my line of work. That much hasn't changed. So, I guess we'll just leave it that, then. A little secret between you and me.
[The tips of his teeth sink into the filter, causing it to bleed out a leak of silvery-blue along his lip. It's stagnant and still; the look of it like incense rolling over its burner. The former homunculus settles his back against the sofa and as the leather meets his skin with a damp groan, he folds one leg over the other and a small snort puffs around his nose.] Ha, not sure you'd like the other nicknames I got for your brother. [He charms in, the smile on his face merely a crack. He reaches down to press Michael lightly on the chest with his finger.] Not that I got anything to hide, mind. But fine. Luce it is.
Y'know, I was ready to fight you then, right? [Using his chin as a tipping point, he urges his head lazily against his shoulder and the earring in his ear pats softly against his cheek.] Glad we kept things peaceful. Believe it or not, I like you, Blue Eyes. Even if you do have a habit of making things a lot more complicated than they have to be. [With his other hand, the former homunculus cups the cigarette as he takes another long drag. And while the tip of it shrinks, while the ash grows, he lets it all tumble down; the small dump of dust all but forgotten on the floor.]
[Greed places his arm back across the sofa, leaving the smoke to fume between his fingers. When he barks again, the sound is much softer than before. Softer, but no less demanding.] Gahaha! Nothing modest about me. I am Greed, remember? I want everything you can think of. So, you're right. My avarice doesn't have any limits. [Without thinking about it, he thumbs the end of his cigarette, sending a sprinkling soot into the air.] Just hope you're not gunna hold it against me.
[He shifts then when the subject of Wrath comes up again. It's a subtle movement - a slight twist of his hip, the way his shoulders seem to pull inward just a hair. The former homunculus lifts his arm and as he guides the cigarette back to his face, he eats away at it. He lets the tobacco pillow on his tongue, bitter and dry. Because he can still see it all as clear as day: his charging blindly into a fight they could never win, the drowned lumps of bodies floating in a sewer, the hot cut of steel slicing cleanly through his throat, leaving him pinned up against cold brick like a trembling, dying bug. Wrath, at the end of it all, with a smile on his face he never truly deserved.]
[The Sin exhales and pinches the end of his cigarette, snuffing it with a hiss.] Wouldn't do you much good, anyway. No one stays dead here, right? What's the point? [He examines what's left of his cigarette and as the embers blink out, he tosses it into a nearby tray.] No, if he does show up, you won't like what I plan to do, Michael. Besides, he doesn't have the same things we do. It'd be too easy for either of you, and he already died on me once before I had my chance. So, best to avoid it.
[And oh, how close he is to a threat. In the form of his teeth as they walk the line between sharp points and curving tusks. Thankfully, they settle on the former and as Greed shrugs, he shoos the whole thing away with a lazy, half-hearted flick of the wrist.] Ehh, Luce is trying to make a new life for himself here. Can't say I blame him for avoiding things like that. Leave it guys like us, right? [He peels open one of his eyes, shooting a look towards Michael.] I'm no stranger to war, Michael. Kinda a whole thing back where I'm from. And maybe you should. Don't think just because I left the rest of 'em it means I'm entirely innocent either.
[Hearing Michael laugh (actually laugh), the Sin arches an eyebrow. Then, without missing a single beat, he joins in; the noise in his throat, short and wheezy.] You could try. But again, strangling me isn't gunna really cut it. I'll just come back. Now, if you really want to kill me, you'll have to try a bit harder. [Greed taps the side of his temple with his claw once, twice.] Still won't do much, but it'll save you a whole lot of time over choking me out.
[But then, everything changes. Everything changes and as Michael grabs his face, the Sin goes stark stiff. He can hear Michael talking (with those words, those old words, those foreign words), can feel his breath on his forehead, and all he can do is watch. Watch the wall and all of its grit and layered-over graffiti as a whisper of someone (someones) tickles at the back of his skull:]
["Friendship isn't something you can just forget!"]
["Do you want to be allies?"]
["Wait - !"]
[Greed feels Michael slip off his lap and the grin on his face creases up one side of his jaw.] Saying a little prayer for me now, are you? Wouldn't worry yourself too much, Blues. I'll be fine. I always come back, right? [He hums. Whether he's thinking about it or if it's just simply his nature, the former homunculus drops one of his hands onto Michael's leg. And it isn't a lewd gesture, nor is crude. It's simply a weight; a weight of a touch, and ah, if anyone could have ever guessed it would be them, the two of them, here - ]
[The last of the cigarette smoke thins on the ceiling, and the Sin rolls his ankle.] Guess you'll just have to try harder, won't you? [He teases as his knuckle runs circles on Michael's skin.] Ah, well. Another time. But you should get some rest there, Blues. I'll make sure no one comes in to bother you. Fair enough?