[ 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. ]
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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.
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[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. ]