nestingdevil: ➥ <lj user="nestingdevil"> (♠ } i'm gonna do bad things)
the name's greed ([personal profile] nestingdevil) wrote 2025-10-27 04:01 am (UTC)

[He watches her through what little is left of the back-shelf mirror. The bits that remain are splintered and in their spiderweb cracks, he sees her doubled over. Every inch of her, broken and shattered between the panes. If he were a different man, a different creature, he might find something terribly poetic about the whole thing. But he's not. No, what he sees is simply another. Another person, another something, trying to hold and grip onto what little the world (this one, whatever one came before) has given her.]

[Greed pinches his sunglasses by the frame, dragging them off his face.]
And why should you? That's the thing everyone gets wrong about greed. That it's somehow bad to want what's yours. [A flake of ash unravels off his cigarette, drifting into nothing.] Never understood it myself. Humans have this idea that it's somehow a bad thing. That there's some kind of hierarchy to it. Way I see it, everyone has something they want. And if they say they don't? They're lying, simple as that.

[Finally, he opens his eyes and in the split of the mirror, the purple of them shines dim; their hint of red dropping down, down, down like a hot piece of sunken metal. The former homunculus inhales through his smile, and the cherry at the end of his cigarette hisses hungry at the paper.]

She can, can she? Ha - ! Sounds like my type of gal. Always did like a woman who could show 'em a thing or two. [He finishes his smoke with a deep inhale before tossing it into the bottom of the sink.] From what I'm hearing, the two of you made a pretty good team. [He doesn't have to guess, though. Something about the way she says it - Vi isn't here. And ah, isn't that one more thing she's lost along the way.]

[Greed lifts his gaze, and the slits of his eyes shake to slivers. The decorations on the gun, the explosives: there's a personalized touch to them. Something that defines them, that makes them hers, and for a second, the Sin's upper lip curls. Because he'd been the same, hadn't he? An alchemist who made things with his own signature, no matter how wild and ridiculous the end result could be. It pings at him in a way that's subtle. The notion of it, like a smell he almost forgot.]

[The Sin folds his sunglasses up on the prep station.]
Y'know, that's some pretty impressive work. Gunna guess those are your doing - that right? [He thumbs behind him at the gun and explosive.] Gahaha - ! You really are full of surprises, Jinx.

[He takes the bottle up, lifting it towards his mouth.] Well, like I said. Don't worry about it. Not really a fan of using a gun myself. [Up, goes the bottle, and whatever's inside quickly drains down his throat. Gulp by gulp, it goes - that insatiableness of his, all but sucking it dry.]

[Greed sets the bottle back on the counter.]
So, what's your plan, then? After staying here, I mean.

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