[The bottle of whiskey finds itself within his grasp. As he slithers a hand under the other's own arm; a dance of space, a acknowledgement of how one another work. No, they're not the same. But the similarities are still there, the differences subtle at best.] No, we're not. And I'm sure you're right, but that doesn't really matter to me.
[Greed plucks a fresh glass and his thumb presses against the cork of the whiskey. It's not the cheap kind and a wooden plug closes it off. But with a well-placed spin, it releases. Trolling along the grooved opening as it takes momentum for a test-drive.] More than one, huh? [The Sin hums back, impressed. Where ever his counter-part comes from, it's certainly got his interest. One stone to one homunculus and the idea of having more, well.]
[It strums out to his too-rotten core with ease.] I'm sure they don't, but I wouldn't know. We only have one - [A pour sends a healthy portion of the whiskey into the glass and Greed spins the bottle as it releases. Licking the insides full; the last drink before it's all over.]
[Then back to oblivion.]
[He sets the bottle down when he's finished, screwing the plug in with a flick of the wrist. While it's strange that they found one another, it isn't entirely undesirable. A nice change of pace and the Sin's eyes fall shut for a moment. The expression that passes by is curt, quick. Of something softer, easier on the eyes.]
[Before daggers come out and he's playing the Cheshire of all he's worth.] Can't say it's my choice, but who am I to deny someone what they want, right? [He takes the seat opposite the other - legs kicked out out, ankles laced. He leans forward to pass the drink along, gingerly grazing the other in passing.]
no subject
[Greed plucks a fresh glass and his thumb presses against the cork of the whiskey. It's not the cheap kind and a wooden plug closes it off. But with a well-placed spin, it releases. Trolling along the grooved opening as it takes momentum for a test-drive.] More than one, huh? [The Sin hums back, impressed. Where ever his counter-part comes from, it's certainly got his interest. One stone to one homunculus and the idea of having more, well.]
[It strums out to his too-rotten core with ease.] I'm sure they don't, but I wouldn't know. We only have one - [A pour sends a healthy portion of the whiskey into the glass and Greed spins the bottle as it releases. Licking the insides full; the last drink before it's all over.]
[Then back to oblivion.]
[He sets the bottle down when he's finished, screwing the plug in with a flick of the wrist. While it's strange that they found one another, it isn't entirely undesirable. A nice change of pace and the Sin's eyes fall shut for a moment. The expression that passes by is curt, quick. Of something softer, easier on the eyes.]
[Before daggers come out and he's playing the Cheshire of all he's worth.] Can't say it's my choice, but who am I to deny someone what they want, right? [He takes the seat opposite the other - legs kicked out out, ankles laced. He leans forward to pass the drink along, gingerly grazing the other in passing.]