[ 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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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.]
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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. ]