[ Greed's right—he won't need to ask twice. Sharon has already made up her mind, and it's not one she's about to revisit. ]
Cheerios. Breakfast cereal. Hard to have a good day when someone pisses in 'em. [ The explanation comes quick, almost casual, despite everything hanging beneath it. She just wants to get under Sleep's skin, to be a problem. Even if it doesn't land exactly how Greed hopes, even if it's smaller, more contained, something is still better than nothing.
A circle within a circle. A triangle nested inside another. Sharon knows ritual work when she sees it. There's meaning there, layered, even if she doesn't fully understand it, but as the shape of it settles in his thoughts, more starts to click. It isn't so different from what the Order used to carve out—circles, triangles, runes, words in languages she never learned but still remembers.
If it were anyone else, she'd hesitate. ]
Tell me what you need from me, and you've got it, Greed. [ There's no pause, no second-guessing. She'll do whatever it takes, and if nothing else, it'll give her something to fill the empty space of her days. ] I know you're ready for whatever she throws back at you, which is good, but... [ Her voice tightens just a little. ] You should know you're putting your Tethers at risk. Last time someone really pushed her, she cut every single one.
[ It rings clear in the connection: this isn't meant to be a deterrent. ]
[There's a flash. A brief one, as quick as a spit in the pan, but no less bright. Putting his tethers at risk wasn't something he even thought to consider. The whole point, the whole reason he's even trying anything at all, is to keep them from a worse end. To give them something to hold onto, slim as the hope may be.]
[The Sin's eye narrows, chasing a shadow on the wall. And maybe, it's all her tricks at the end of it, but he can swear it's close. Close to a face that's also too young in his years. Too young to have seen some of the things he had and to have gone through just as much, only to come out on the other side missing a whole lot more than he started with.]
[Something snaps (a line of a different kind, a tether by a different name), and it's agony. A plea, yelled by the same face, at the moment when he had to make a horrible choice:]
["But I do. No, wait. Don't do this - !"]
[Greed tests his shoulder.] I'll be fine. Always am, kid. [Not the whole truth, but the kindest honesty he can afford.] As for them, what happens? [The unspoken part is said out loud through the Murmur. Its silence, screaming for an answer.]
["You'll be fine, right? You'll all be fine - "]
As for your part, I just need to know what you can do. Leave the rest to me. [It's his final say on the matter. Any concerns about him, any worries - he'll take care of it as he always has. As he always does, burying it so deep, no one will ever have a chance of finding it.]
[ Greed had thought about the danger to the people close to him, but the tether side of it hadn't crossed his mind. Sharon can't fault him for that; it's not exactly obvious.
The shout cuts through their connection, something desperate lacing the voice, and then Greed insists he'll be fine, as if he's experienced a pain like the snap of a tether before. Sharon bristles at that, eyes rolling despite herself. Kalmiya hadn't been fine. She doesn't think Greed will be either, not if it comes to that. ] Pain, Greed. It's like having a piece of yourself cut out. [ Her voice steadies, firm despite it all. ] We'll be fine. You will too. It'll just suck.
[ They'll deal with it. She doubts he's tethered himself to anyone who can't handle the fallout, and she'll be there to help put things back together, same as she always is for those who matter most to her. ]
I'm an Illusionist, Greed. I make people believe what I want them to. I can slip into someone's mind, flip the right switches. Make them see what I want, feel what I want. [ A beat, soft at first, and then it grows sharper. A blade between her teeth. ] I can hurt them without ever laying a hand on them. Hide them from the world.
[If he were being honest, if he could ever be, he'd tell her. Tell her that he did know what it felt like, that he knew what it meant to cut a connection. To sever it with nothing more than a barking order and the single, sweetest lie he's ever told. It made it easier that way. Because if they knew, if they really knew, it would just make things far more complicated than they needed to be.]
[And hasn't he always said it? It's always better to keep things simple.]
[Greed feels out the roof of his mouth (the grooves, the bump, the faintest sting of something melting), and his smile slowly spreads across his face. A challenge, not to Sharon, but to Sleep and anything she may have planned in the aftermath.]
Wouldn't be the first time, Shar. But it doesn't matter. [The Sin fans his fingers across his thighs.] As for you, Bluebird's already made sure there will be more at the 'Nest. If you need 'em - [His thought trails off. A thread, unraveling itself to nothing.] - you'll be fine, as you said.
[The people here, he's finding, are giving in so many ways. Comfort, friendship, business. Changing the topic of conversation so he doesn't have to go too far down that road. The former homunculus tilts his head as he tries to chase the image of her through the Murmur. Of course, Sharon would have an ace up her sleeve. Something kept hidden until the moment was just right. To say he's impressed wouldn't be doing it justice. He's intrigued, he's interested. But above it all, there's admiration from his end. The feeling of it like the light stroke of his forehead touching hers and bringing the only kind of warmth a creature like him could ever hope to share.]
[Greed dips his chin, and the laugh that curls out of him is soft; the wheeze of it, an odd combination of steadfast and resigned.] Oh, ho, ho - ! Glad you and I are on the same side then, Shar. [And he means it. Power like that: it could easily break even the strongest men in half, given the right ammunition.] All right, then. Let's see what you can really do. Think it's about time Sleep learned we aren't the types to be easily fucked with.
[ It doesn't matter, Greed says, and something in the space between them shifts—a low, quiet pushback that never quite forms into words. Because it does matter. It matters even if he can endure it, even if he's survived worse—because it's him, and Sharon cares more than she'd ever comfortably admit.
Bluebird—Jinx, obviously—is making sure the Nest isn't empty. Sharon isn't entirely sold on the idea of strangers settling in that close, not yet, but she'll deal with it. They don't really have the luxury of being picky. They need people. People willing to stand against Sleep. Hopefully, everyone Jinx pulls in falls on the right side of the lane. ]
Let's keep it that way, yeah? [ She says, tone light, almost teasing, but there's an edge beneath it that doesn't soften. She hasn't crossed that line yet, hasn't killed for someone's devotion to Sleep, but she hasn't ruled it out either. If it comes down to it... she'll do what's necessary. But one of the last people she'd ever want to turn on is Greed.
A faint smirk touches her lips. ] I'm always down to show off for you, Greed. Can't promise it'll mean much against something like Sleep, but maybe. Hopefully, you'll find a use for them.
[And he feels it. Feels it, swallows it, and lets whatever it is sink into the pit of him, extinguishing the same as every match he's spent both here and before. He can never get too close. That's simply how it's always been. Because the truth of it is more raw than he has the words to describe. That he has the words to know how to deal with, to express, to explain. Blaming it on his avarice means they don't have to guess; that they don't have to question or dig any deeper, only to find the monster lurking underneath.]
[Still, he manages something for her. A smile, less sharp, more purposeful, trying to plant itself into the top of her head.] Uh huh. Got it loud and clear, Shar. Like I said, I would hate to get on your bad side.
[Just as quickly as his presence is there, it leaves again. A shadow on the wall, returning back from the window it crawled from.] Ha - ! Well, then, sounds like now's a good a time as any. As for what it will do against her, it doesn't matter. Anything is better than nothing. And who knows? Maybe you'll be able to give the old hag a taste of her own medicine.
[The delusions, illusions, she's pulled out of them, again and again. He can't help the sick satisfaction that writhes at the idea. At the possibility of turning it against her, leaving her down on her knees as she clawed her own head in two for a change.]
[The Sin's tail wanders out behind him (a noose, waiting for its neck), and his teeth settle together with a finalizing snap. Rck.] Meet me here. [He starts, and the location slips through their tether. He'd seen the garage a few times during his travels. A building, mostly collapsed, but with enough floors and wreckage to keep parts of it still standing. It's as good a place as any. And while they may have to deal with a host or two along the way, it's not as if Sharon hasn't proved already that she could hold her own.]
[Greed opens his wings, trapping a gust between them, and his hand wraps around the mask latched over his face.] Just tell me when, and I'll make the time.
[ Sharon feels him there in the connection, as close as he's ever been, the edge of his presence softened just enough to dull its usual bite. And then, just as quickly, he slips away again, putting distance between them like it's something required, something he has to do. She doesn't want that, even if she lets it happen.
A taste of her own medicine, he says, and Sharon can't help the faint curve of her smile—thin, fleeting, almost ghostlike as it flickers through the psychic link. There's nothing she wants more. It's what she's done for decades: giving people back exactly what they've handed her, letting them feel it in full. And with Sleep? She'd go to nearly any length to make that happen. ]
All right. [ The thought brushes after him. ] How about tomorrow, then?
[It's the chasing thought that catches his attention; how it brushes up against the tether, stroking at the back of his head like a scratch he hasn't had in years. If he had the time (any time, really), he might take a moment to mull it over. To think about it and admit something, little as a creature like him is willing to.]
[But he doesn't. Not now, not when they're close to actually landing a blow or two of their own. And hasn't he said it before?]
[How it's better, easier, kinder to keep it simple.]
Tomorrow. [Greed lifts his shoulders and as the fur of his collar fans across his neck, he lets a few sensations bleed through: the stale tobacco clinging to his vest, the soft tickle, touching his jaw. The safety of claws and their promise to rip the throats out of the shadows, chasing at her feet.]
[The former homunculus adjusts his sunglasses, and the line from his end dims down to a light, breathing coal.] I'll take a look around beforehand. Make sure there aren't too many Hosts crawling about the place. In the meantime, watch your back, Shar. Don't know how much of it she's already caught onto, if at all. Better to keep your wits about ya, just in case.
[With that, he tests his wings. And as the skitters of his handiwork skip down the street, the Sin lets out a heralding bark. His laughter, a thunderclap, aimed right at the source.]
[No matter what the results may be, there's no doubt in his mind that him (that them) were at least going to give Sleep the wake-up call she deserved.]
[ Greed bleeds through the connection—sensations that feel unmistakably him, wrapping around her with a sense of comfort and security. Not parental, not quite, but something closer to a guardian—sharp claws, sharper teeth, and that familiar, instinctive sense of safety she leans into without hesitation. Like she's been starving for it without ever quite realizing. ]
Don't worry, Greed, I will, but... I don't think we have to worry about her right now. She'll only care once we actually succeed; until then, she'll see all these plans as something cute. [ There is a bitter edge to it. Sleep doesn't see them as a threat, not really. Just small, harmless things playing at something bigger. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Cheerios. Breakfast cereal. Hard to have a good day when someone pisses in 'em. [ The explanation comes quick, almost casual, despite everything hanging beneath it. She just wants to get under Sleep's skin, to be a problem. Even if it doesn't land exactly how Greed hopes, even if it's smaller, more contained, something is still better than nothing.
A circle within a circle. A triangle nested inside another. Sharon knows ritual work when she sees it. There's meaning there, layered, even if she doesn't fully understand it, but as the shape of it settles in his thoughts, more starts to click. It isn't so different from what the Order used to carve out—circles, triangles, runes, words in languages she never learned but still remembers.
If it were anyone else, she'd hesitate. ]
Tell me what you need from me, and you've got it, Greed. [ There's no pause, no second-guessing. She'll do whatever it takes, and if nothing else, it'll give her something to fill the empty space of her days. ] I know you're ready for whatever she throws back at you, which is good, but... [ Her voice tightens just a little. ] You should know you're putting your Tethers at risk. Last time someone really pushed her, she cut every single one.
[ It rings clear in the connection: this isn't meant to be a deterrent. ]
no subject
[The Sin's eye narrows, chasing a shadow on the wall. And maybe, it's all her tricks at the end of it, but he can swear it's close. Close to a face that's also too young in his years. Too young to have seen some of the things he had and to have gone through just as much, only to come out on the other side missing a whole lot more than he started with.]
[Something snaps (a line of a different kind, a tether by a different name), and it's agony. A plea, yelled by the same face, at the moment when he had to make a horrible choice:]
["But I do. No, wait. Don't do this - !"]
[Greed tests his shoulder.] I'll be fine. Always am, kid. [Not the whole truth, but the kindest honesty he can afford.] As for them, what happens? [The unspoken part is said out loud through the Murmur. Its silence, screaming for an answer.]
["You'll be fine, right? You'll all be fine - "]
As for your part, I just need to know what you can do. Leave the rest to me. [It's his final say on the matter. Any concerns about him, any worries - he'll take care of it as he always has. As he always does, burying it so deep, no one will ever have a chance of finding it.]
no subject
The shout cuts through their connection, something desperate lacing the voice, and then Greed insists he'll be fine, as if he's experienced a pain like the snap of a tether before. Sharon bristles at that, eyes rolling despite herself. Kalmiya hadn't been fine. She doesn't think Greed will be either, not if it comes to that. ] Pain, Greed. It's like having a piece of yourself cut out. [ Her voice steadies, firm despite it all. ] We'll be fine. You will too. It'll just suck.
[ They'll deal with it. She doubts he's tethered himself to anyone who can't handle the fallout, and she'll be there to help put things back together, same as she always is for those who matter most to her. ]
I'm an Illusionist, Greed. I make people believe what I want them to. I can slip into someone's mind, flip the right switches. Make them see what I want, feel what I want. [ A beat, soft at first, and then it grows sharper. A blade between her teeth. ] I can hurt them without ever laying a hand on them. Hide them from the world.
[ Pull a veil over anyone's eyes. ]
no subject
[And hasn't he always said it? It's always better to keep things simple.]
[Greed feels out the roof of his mouth (the grooves, the bump, the faintest sting of something melting), and his smile slowly spreads across his face. A challenge, not to Sharon, but to Sleep and anything she may have planned in the aftermath.]
Wouldn't be the first time, Shar. But it doesn't matter. [The Sin fans his fingers across his thighs.] As for you, Bluebird's already made sure there will be more at the 'Nest. If you need 'em - [His thought trails off. A thread, unraveling itself to nothing.] - you'll be fine, as you said.
[The people here, he's finding, are giving in so many ways. Comfort, friendship, business. Changing the topic of conversation so he doesn't have to go too far down that road. The former homunculus tilts his head as he tries to chase the image of her through the Murmur. Of course, Sharon would have an ace up her sleeve. Something kept hidden until the moment was just right. To say he's impressed wouldn't be doing it justice. He's intrigued, he's interested. But above it all, there's admiration from his end. The feeling of it like the light stroke of his forehead touching hers and bringing the only kind of warmth a creature like him could ever hope to share.]
[Greed dips his chin, and the laugh that curls out of him is soft; the wheeze of it, an odd combination of steadfast and resigned.] Oh, ho, ho - ! Glad you and I are on the same side then, Shar. [And he means it. Power like that: it could easily break even the strongest men in half, given the right ammunition.] All right, then. Let's see what you can really do. Think it's about time Sleep learned we aren't the types to be easily fucked with.
no subject
Bluebird—Jinx, obviously—is making sure the Nest isn't empty. Sharon isn't entirely sold on the idea of strangers settling in that close, not yet, but she'll deal with it. They don't really have the luxury of being picky. They need people. People willing to stand against Sleep. Hopefully, everyone Jinx pulls in falls on the right side of the lane. ]
Let's keep it that way, yeah? [ She says, tone light, almost teasing, but there's an edge beneath it that doesn't soften. She hasn't crossed that line yet, hasn't killed for someone's devotion to Sleep, but she hasn't ruled it out either. If it comes down to it... she'll do what's necessary. But one of the last people she'd ever want to turn on is Greed.
A faint smirk touches her lips. ] I'm always down to show off for you, Greed. Can't promise it'll mean much against something like Sleep, but maybe. Hopefully, you'll find a use for them.
no subject
[Still, he manages something for her. A smile, less sharp, more purposeful, trying to plant itself into the top of her head.] Uh huh. Got it loud and clear, Shar. Like I said, I would hate to get on your bad side.
[Just as quickly as his presence is there, it leaves again. A shadow on the wall, returning back from the window it crawled from.] Ha - ! Well, then, sounds like now's a good a time as any. As for what it will do against her, it doesn't matter. Anything is better than nothing. And who knows? Maybe you'll be able to give the old hag a taste of her own medicine.
[The delusions, illusions, she's pulled out of them, again and again. He can't help the sick satisfaction that writhes at the idea. At the possibility of turning it against her, leaving her down on her knees as she clawed her own head in two for a change.]
[The Sin's tail wanders out behind him (a noose, waiting for its neck), and his teeth settle together with a finalizing snap. Rck.] Meet me here. [He starts, and the location slips through their tether. He'd seen the garage a few times during his travels. A building, mostly collapsed, but with enough floors and wreckage to keep parts of it still standing. It's as good a place as any. And while they may have to deal with a host or two along the way, it's not as if Sharon hasn't proved already that she could hold her own.]
[Greed opens his wings, trapping a gust between them, and his hand wraps around the mask latched over his face.] Just tell me when, and I'll make the time.
no subject
A taste of her own medicine, he says, and Sharon can't help the faint curve of her smile—thin, fleeting, almost ghostlike as it flickers through the psychic link. There's nothing she wants more. It's what she's done for decades: giving people back exactly what they've handed her, letting them feel it in full. And with Sleep? She'd go to nearly any length to make that happen. ]
All right. [ The thought brushes after him. ] How about tomorrow, then?
no subject
[But he doesn't. Not now, not when they're close to actually landing a blow or two of their own. And hasn't he said it before?]
[How it's better, easier, kinder to keep it simple.]
Tomorrow. [Greed lifts his shoulders and as the fur of his collar fans across his neck, he lets a few sensations bleed through: the stale tobacco clinging to his vest, the soft tickle, touching his jaw. The safety of claws and their promise to rip the throats out of the shadows, chasing at her feet.]
[The former homunculus adjusts his sunglasses, and the line from his end dims down to a light, breathing coal.] I'll take a look around beforehand. Make sure there aren't too many Hosts crawling about the place. In the meantime, watch your back, Shar. Don't know how much of it she's already caught onto, if at all. Better to keep your wits about ya, just in case.
[With that, he tests his wings. And as the skitters of his handiwork skip down the street, the Sin lets out a heralding bark. His laughter, a thunderclap, aimed right at the source.]
[No matter what the results may be, there's no doubt in his mind that him (that them) were at least going to give Sleep the wake-up call she deserved.]
no subject
Don't worry, Greed, I will, but... I don't think we have to worry about her right now. She'll only care once we actually succeed; until then, she'll see all these plans as something cute. [ There is a bitter edge to it. Sleep doesn't see them as a threat, not really. Just small, harmless things playing at something bigger. ]