Greed (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ossifragant) wrote2014-11-28 12:31 am
ossifragant) wrote2014-11-28 12:31 am
011 Things Acquired - [action; FOURTH WALL]
[This time, when the shift happens, Greed is prepared. It's been six months, and it's finally hit him that given how long he spent locked away in a prison with no exit, it shouldn't feel like he's been here a long time-- what that really means is it's been seven months since he broke free of Dante's grasp, and that is a big deal no matter how he looks at it. And yet it does feel like a long time, precisely because it's been half a year without Dante.
He's too proud of himself, like he had been upon first finding himself in the region.
Yesterday, the snow had bothered him because of how cold it was. Today, now that he can't quite feel the coldness of the snow, it's more entertaining than anything else. Maybe in a few days there will be enough snow for him to cause problems with. It's a little unfortunate there isn't enough snow on the ground for him to do anything with it now, but he'll deal with it.
As it is, shifting his hand (his entire body, really) into its carbon-black form is something he's missed.
Terrorizing an entire city would be pretty damn easy to do at the moment, but Greed is going to restrain himself, poorly. Prowling around and generally looking like he's up to something makes him look like the least subtle cat possible isn't something Greed is going to get away with for long. Maybe he'll be able to find someone he recognizes before one of the locals who haven't been horribly glitched some to ask him what the hell he's doing.
Or, more likely, he'll get bored halfway through whatever he's currently doing in favor of paying a visit to his favorite cafe.]
He's too proud of himself, like he had been upon first finding himself in the region.
Yesterday, the snow had bothered him because of how cold it was. Today, now that he can't quite feel the coldness of the snow, it's more entertaining than anything else. Maybe in a few days there will be enough snow for him to cause problems with. It's a little unfortunate there isn't enough snow on the ground for him to do anything with it now, but he'll deal with it.
As it is, shifting his hand (his entire body, really) into its carbon-black form is something he's missed.
Terrorizing an entire city would be pretty damn easy to do at the moment, but Greed is going to restrain himself, poorly. Prowling around and generally looking like he's up to something makes him look like the least subtle cat possible isn't something Greed is going to get away with for long. Maybe he'll be able to find someone he recognizes before one of the locals who haven't been horribly glitched some to ask him what the hell he's doing.
Or, more likely, he'll get bored halfway through whatever he's currently doing in favor of paying a visit to his favorite cafe.]
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[Impossible. He whistles and his hand unhooks from the leather at the booth, leaving small impressions to where his nails had been.] - now that's something. So, what are you then?
[Because it doesn't make sense, it isn't right. Then again, none of this is. The circumstances of their meeting, his third-time running after a second permanent dirt nap. No - it shouldn't have been possible.]
[Greed's smile pushes together with a sultry kind of look. His eyes close and that tattooed hand spreads across his own chest. A mirroring effect yet again as makes a scissor motion with an index and middle.] Here - [He starts it, mapping out a corner of his chest where a heart would normally be. Trusting isn't so hard when one knows who they're up against.] - but that's not really what you're interested in, right?
[One eyebrow quips up as a single eye half-hoods to open. The Sin's got a sound in his throat; undulating and vibrating upon itself.] It'd take a lot to use that kind of alchemy. And it sounds to me like she isn't too friendly. [One can only assume. Powerful enough to rip what they are right out and if that's any indicator? Well.]
[Greed lets his hand drop and he goes silent. A waitress passing by gets his attention and he beckons her in with a cool coil of his finger.] Scotch on the rocks. Two - [Hanging off the couch, he twists in the woman's direction.] - thanks, lovely.
[When she leaves, the homunculus taps his foot against the column of the table.] I wouldn't be here if I didn't believe you. Still, something like that - [A tap to the side of his sunglasses makes them shiver and rattle.]
- I haven't seen it before, but that doesn't mean it can't be done. So if it's just you, I'm gunna guess this Dante was the one who made you. That right?
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[He doesn't have any reason to lie. He instead smoothly holds up his left hand, revealing the ouroboros mark. There's his eyes, too, as additional proof-- violet cat eyes, but they're currently hidden behind an identical pair of sunglasses.
He watches the other Greed carefully, pointing out where his heart should be, and that... it's a difference between the worlds and how different the homunculi are between the two versions of Amestris.
Still, Greed trusts his counterpart completely.]
Someone who considers herself a god isn't too friendly, no.
[He smirks faintly at the other ordering drinks. They're so much alike, even with the differences. It's interesting if nothing else, and it makes him relax even as he leans forward, his shoulders drooped.]
She did. But of the seven, she only made two of us, but she gathered up the rest.
[But that's... going to lead to more questions. He's not smiling when he speaks, but he doesn't look gravely serious, either.]
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[And despite the differences in their stories, it sounds more than likely that the rebellious streak runs both ways.] Neither was he. Good ol'Pops. Though I never did work well with the rest. [Meaning the other seven deadlies. What his counterpart says is foreign to him. The idea of their creator only being responsible for two. Greed flips his sunglasses closed, gently placing them glass-side down on the table.]
Though, that's interesting. So you're saying someone else has the ability? To make more homunculi? [He stops when twin scotches arrive and the woman finally takes a good-hard look at her company. Green-set eyes ping-pong from one to the next and her fingers instinctively wrap around the curved-lip of her silver tray. Her nails bite into the tin, sending sharp pings off the surface. Greed matches the look with a comical frown, his neck and shoulders slouching forward to greet her.] Oi, oi, oi - don't get any wild ideas, lovely. We're not interested in the trouble.
[She calms down at that, if only slightly; but she doesn't say a word. Instead, she flits off to the next table, thumbing in their direction to a co-worker. Greed's eyes follow her as she goes and his arm finally slumps back against his seat. His legs have extended all the way into the alleyway of tables, stretching as if he owned the joint.] Daddy sir made all of us. One for each of his sins. Least, that's the story. He thought he would be better that way. I guess this Dante had a similar idea, right?
[Greed's smile slips to one side and his eyes close again.] Either way, doesn't matter. I'm sure you already knew this, but I've never been one to work for someone else. Gunna guess you felt the same way, right?
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[It's a strange thing to admit. Whatever order the homunculi were born in the other world, Greed has a feeling it's different than the order he's familiar with.]
I worked with them for a time-- for a long time, actually. Even after our numbers started filling in, I did what I was told because I knew nothing else.
[He cracks his knuckles slowly, deliberately. It's not an easy thing to admit, especially because he's leaving details out, but those details hardly matter at the moment.]
...but I did rebel eventually. And she didn't take kindly to it.
[At the question about creating homunculi, Greed pauses, leaning back against the booth. His expression is surprisingly bitter.]
You'd be surprised how many people have done it, creating a homunculus. Pride and I were created by her-- but you'd know him by another name. Everyone else was created by a different alchemist.
[The woman appearing cuts him off quickly. Greed matches his counterpart's frown faintly. This is such a pain. With how little happens in this place on most days, the strangeness of these weekends is something of a relief to him, but there's always the locals still trying to work. Sometimes they don't even notice everything going screwy.
He gestures with one hand, reaching for the glass with the other as soon as she's left again.]
"You were born of human sin," she told me when I questioned my name. Funny, when she was the bitch who made me in the first place. There have been more than seven of us; there was a Lust before the one who lives now. She just reuses the names.
[And that... the final question makes him laugh.]
I've always looked out for myself first, but you'd be surprised how easy it is to ignore your own instincts.
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[Idly, his nail drums against the side of his glass. There are stark contrasts in the stories, changes that are off but not so much to raise red flags. The tip of his nail hitches into the glass briefly, pausing when he mentions:] Pride, huh? And who would I know him as? [Because the Pride he knows is the oldest one still.]
[And even in his eyes, Greed's always seen him as a monster.] So you're saying none of you are related, then? Not that we really were. Like I told you before, I've never been like the rest. [However, he does go quiet when his counterpart continues the story. Reuses the names, born of sin - Greed's eyes widen behind his sunglasses.] So, what? You were human once? All of you?
[All arrows point in the direction and Greed finally lifts his finger from the glass. The ice slips over itself, switching from one cube to the next as the scotch washes in.] That's new.
But ignoring your own instincts, huh. [His voice seems miles away for a minute there. Greed's eyes close, his eyebrows press into one another. And maybe that smile is forced, maybe it isn't.]
[Either way, he doesn't elaborate. Secrets closer, after all.] Sounds like it didn't go so well - [He chases a look across the bar, his thumb prying his sunglasses back open with a flick. The metal swings out, the silver catches light; making a sickly yellow dart across silver until the whole thing goes still again.]
- I won't lie to you; I really shouldn't be here, considering - [One eye slips open and Greed shrugs. Whatever he has to say, it doesn't quite matter.] - eh. If you've already met before, than you should already know.
[One hand goes to his pocket while the other makes a claw over the drink in question. Not of cool-hard carbon, but of flesh and blood. His knuckles are tense, his fingers stretch. Until the glass finds the pads of his skin and Greed makes a ring 'round the rim.] Not like that matters now, right?
So how long does this thing usually last?
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[It's a long time.]
Envy was the first. Then came Gluttony-- I don't know his story. Never asked, and Gluttony has never been in the position to tell anyone anything about himself. I was the third.
[He drums his hand against the table, looking thoughtful.]
You'd know Pride as "Wrath."
[Maybe, anyway. There are plenty of holes in his knowledge about the homunculi from the other world.]
When I tried to run, I was sealed in a vault for a hundred and thirty years.
[God, admitting this doesn't ever get any easier. It's a stark reminder about just how uncomfortable he is with being a homunculus, even with all the perks in the world.]
When an alchemist tries to raise the dead, homunculi are born in the world I know. Not looking human; the alchemist gets a pile of blown out organs. But we're aware of everything. For most, that's where the story ends. They die again, never understanding what happened.
If you want a homunculus to live, you feed it shards of a Philosopher's Stone.
[He can't look at his counterpart anymore. His gaze drifts down to his drink.]
She's insidious; homunculi are born knowing nothing and she knows this. All we're given are a few stray memories of the people we're supposed to be. She tells a group of confused, naive people if they do what she says, she'll explain everything. She never does, of course. We all learn on our own.
[The memories are a jigsaw he'll never solve.]
You'll be here for three days, maybe four at most. This place isn't so bad if you look at it like an unplanned trip.
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[And he never really found the drum-beat all-too satisfying.]
[However, as quickly as that pleasant sort of smile comes, it falls. Greed's eyes turn with an elongated-drag. Swiveling back to present company and oh, it's it just the A-Bomb to drop:] King Bradley, huh. [The sudden switch in his tone is evident: a biting sort of sound and Greed's eyes narrow. Wrath - out of all of them, it's his least favorite. His upper lip furrows with a snarl; very quick and short lived. Before his signature cat-grin washes over him and Greed waves his hand, tossing his fingers away from the side of his drink.]
Sounds like her and him have a lot in common. Pops wasn't really too forgiving on the idea. [Though, he's not about to elaborate. Not here; not when there's borrowed time to be had. Four days isn't long enough - not even close.]
[And he's not too interested in traveling down that particular road unless he has to.] We're made from it, as you already know. Each one of us has a Philosopher's Stone. We were never human to begin with. [Again, the Sin taps at his chest. Letting a nail clack against his breast plate. He can still feel it, even now. All those souls, wanting one this and one thing only:]
[Everything.] They never really knew anything different. Following orders - I'm glad to hear some of them had a bit more sense where you're from. [Finally, he takes his glass. Rolls it once by the wrist, then has at it. Scotch and ice tumble down his throat, the cubes turning to shards as soon as they meet his wicked teeth. It all goes down, until only dregs remain and a bit of amber fluid washes across his chin. A dip of it catches and Greed swipes it away with his thumb.] Ah-
- never said this place was bad. Beats the alternative. [He sets the near-emptied glass down, motioning his hands to his pockets. One leg extends out, sending him slithering from his side of the booth.] And if what you say is true, might as well see what this world's all about. Besides, I still want to see exactly how you work. And in return?
[His sunglasses open up, pried loose with the hitch of his nail. It's been a long time since he's seen them; longer still since he's had the pleasure of his own flesh and blood. How many years have passed since that day are beyond him, but death's never been one to give. Greed presses his index and middle to the lenses, shoving the pair up and over his eyes.] I'll tell you anything you want to know.
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[He's pleasantly surprised, at least about that. For as different as the two of them are from each other, each thing that doesn't change is almost a relief. Or it would be, anyway, if it wasn't for the problem with Bradley.
That's another similarity, there. Good thing his counterpart hates the man too. Greed didn't suspect anything else, but it is a relief.]
Most of them came to the same conclusion I did, from what I understand. Not that I saw any of it happen.
[He lets the statement hang in the air. The implication speaks for itself.
But Greed has never been the sort to feel content with pitying himself. Not for long, anyway.]
Equivalent Exchange, hm? Alright. I'll show you what you want to know. Ask away.
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[But he doesn't wait for the other to follow.]
[One heel follows the next, slicing over in a practiced-waltz. He trails the line of the bar, his eyes falling over the growing collection of patrons. This time, he earns a glance or two back, the expressions subtle and wary. Greed only offers a shrug in return - as his body sways, moving with the bars own rhythm while he easily avoids any on coming traffic.]
[The sun's beginning to sink outside and when he nudges the door open, a cool beat of air whistles through the joint. Four days - he only has four days before all of this is null and void.]
[Better to make the stay worth it.]
[Greed exits, taking the stairs with little heed of the ice that's starting to crystallize. Snow shimmers in his path, flitting away like light dust. Its color turns a chilled-blue as night creeps on in and Greed pauses at the foot of the stairs.]
[There's still one thing they should probably get out of the way:] Any of the rest here, or is it just you?
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His other self? Not even on his radar. But here he is, willing to answer whatever questions the other Greed has.
The only advantage the weekend brings is how Greed once again stops feeling the cold air like he should. He watches his counterpart, following him close behind. He doesn't quite hesitate at the question, but there's still a slight pause before he answers.]
There's two others: the current Lust and Envy.
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[They're not his to begin with.] We never did see eye to eye. Least, not the ones I know. [A gust of wind fingers through the fur at his collar, making it bristle and wave. No - despite what his other self has to say, he's always been a bit different than the rest. They had followed orders to a T, filed out one by one for a grand plan meant for one person and one person only.]
[And he never really found the point in it.]
[The Sin pockets his hands, taking the last step forward. Dwindling snow crunches under foot, leaving a print to his name. Despite whatever's going on, this world doesn't seem too much different - that is, until he finally catches a few odd things flitting after people as they make their way around town.]
[Unusual, but not-so-much that he's about to question it.] Got somewhere we could do this? [He starts back in again, his fingers fanning out with a half-assed wave.]
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[He really doesn't want to get into it, least of all because it's not something his counterpart would understand. They're different even with the similarities and it's maddening in a way he can't quite articulate.]
My house should be fine.
[The others are out, as far as he's aware. He doesn't even notice the people milling about with their Pokemon. It's become something he doesn't even notice, because he hasn't had a reason to in a long time.]
I've got a pretty big yard for the location.
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Lead the way.
[The Sin holds off to let the other take the lead. This isn't his world or his turf; a stepping stone for the time being, though it doesn't seem like it will last. A brief period before it's back to oblivion.]
[Not that the other needs to know that.]
[The chill air swipes at his skin, the cold earth licks at his boots. The dryness isn't hard to feel, but anything else is moot at best. Greed cants his head upward for a moment before his shoulders lift the fur-line of his collar. Making white feather out in a brilliant display - akin to a bird showing off its worth.]
[Worth - Greed's smile tightens, his brow dips. Even if the time doesn't last, it's enough.] Been here long, then? You mentioned you've seen this before - guess I'm not the first one of me you've met. That right?
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It's not far from here.
[He leads his counterpart to a neighborhood. There are kids playing in the snow in front of a few yards, but Greed doesn't pay them any mind.]
I've been here for some time, yeah. Since April. This happened before, at the end of May. Another you showed up then. Not looking like you or I-- I still don't understand it.
[He finally stops in front of a house. It's no bigger than any of the other houses on the street, but it's still big. Greed smirks to himself, unlocking the front door.
It's his. His name is on the deed, and even if he's renting it and doesn't officially own it, the house belongs to him. That's something that won't change, not now. Not ever. When Greed steps through the door, he motions for his counterpart to follow him.
This'll be odd to explain if one of the others are about, but it looks like the house is devoid of people at the moment. The lights are all on, but the only life around are an assortment of Pokemon. It's probably a fairly surreal sight: birds, dogs, cats and lizards all snoozing on the furniture. There's even a group of four pumpkin-looking creatures of various sizes asleep on a couch against the wall.
Naturally, Greed acts like this is the most normal thing in the world.]
You want anything from the bar?
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[Humans could sometimes be more predictable.] Ah, right - [Greed answers from behind, his tone a bit more appreciative. A little distant. However, that smile of his is clear; the wet-sheen of deadly-daggers pulling wide behind the other. The Prince - it isn't a surprise that somewhere, somehow, he showed up.] - guess you wouldn't have recognized him. We were sharing a face back then. The little pissant was impressive, I can tell you that. Taking me on. [But the Sin goes quiet as they come up to the place. He stops short of the other, a whistle of surprise tipping on his tongue.]
[It isn't his, it isn't much, but it isn't unimpressive either.]
[Greed follows the beckoning, eyebrows pressed together with a half-sarcastic expression. Demanding - they both are to different degrees. Inside, the house is a little more surprising. A bit more, well. Unexpected. The creatures sprawling over the furniture earn a hum of surprise, but not much else. Instead, Greed extends his hand - hovering over the head of coiled-up reptile, yet not touching. Just there one moment and gone the next. He tips over from the hip, letting his spine twist in a crooked fashion.]
That's a stupid question. You should know already. [It's a playful gesture without malice. Not even an inkling to it. No - his counterpart might be different, but they're both him. Them.]
[And sometimes, fate's just a little funny that way.] Scotch on the rocks. Unless you don't have that here.
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[He sounds amused as he fluffs the collar of his winter coat up. It hadn't been a long conversation, and honestly the only thing he truly remembers is talking briefly about the other Greed's demise.
That doesn't really bother him, however. They're too different from each other, and anyway he knows how his life ends. At least, he has an idea. There's really only one way to kill a homunculus from his version of Amestris, and it's not pretty, either.
That? Isn't something he really wants to talk about.
Greed pauses briefly, smirking, turning to regard his counterpart.]
Scotch, huh?
[Some things don't change, even when others do. That's a relief more than anything else.]
Yeah, I've got that.
[He steps behind the bar smoothly. His own collection might not be nearly as impressive as the stock he had at The Devil's Nest, but it's still the collection of a man who values his alcohol. It's a shame he actually has to worry about things like hangovers and getting drunk now. There's no way he can drink like he used to.]
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[Then? Then, well what. Whatever else was lurking for him around the bend.] Ling Yao - Prince of a country aside Amestris. Emperor by now, if they took the opportunity. [Greed's waving his hand, waltzing through his counterpart's digs like he could own the place. Which he does, in another life. It's some sort of strange irony.]
[From what he's gathered, his partner is a mirror. A reflection of himself, but not quiet there. There's broken pieces in the proverbial mirror and one stark difference - one sliver that's sharper than the rest: human. Least, he had been. That's how the story seems to go and the Sin can't imagine it. Being something else, living a mortal existence. Only to be changed to someone else's whims by an Alchemist with enough juice to be successful.]
[It's almost pitiable. Had he been someone else.]
[But he's not, they're not. Monsters, stories out of a textbook. The writings different, the stories aren't quite right. But it all boils down to the same in the end. Greed rounds the other like a vulture - his elbows point out behind him, his body bends. Teeth expose with a tight grin and he lowers himself down to stare at another one of his counterpart's things. An odd kind of creature that doesn't seem too bother by the predicament at hand.] Didn't think you wouldn't, but we're not exactly the same. You and me.
[Slowly, he rises up. Hands in his pockets, back straight. His sunglasses birth a look-see - at a pair of eyes that match the other, that twitch and expand in needle-point slits. Again, Greed removes his sunglasses with a delicate pinch of the nose piece. The pair slide into his hand, set aside on a shelf with clack.]
So I'm guessing you regenerate too. And the Ultimate Shield. But without a Philosopher's Stone - that's gotta be something. [Finally, he moves behind the other. Two 'tenders to a bar and his hand moves where his companion's doesn't; his space exchanges when the other moves. Too close for comfort, but picking up a rhythm just the same. Pace for pace, clack for clack.] What do you take? Figured I'd at least do you the favor.
[And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be a bad seventy-two hours to spend.]
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He stretches out lazily with catlike grace as he pours the other his drink.]
No, we're not, are we? We're not the same. I'm sure more differences will crop up eventually.
[Neither can fully comprehend the other, but that's okay, as far as he's concerned. They don't need to, because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter. There's too little time.]
The imperfect stones work as a backup. Probably not as efficient as the real thing, but then, I wouldn't know. The stones though, ah you'd enjoy them. Nothing else in the world tastes quite like them.
[His tone is nostalgic despite the unsavory implication.
Maybe he'd be able to taste them again, on a weekend such as this. But they're not the sort of thing one finds laying around. This place is far too kind for them, even at its most violent.
He takes a seat at the bar, leaning forward carefully, arms folded across each other as he leans forward.]
In the mood for whiskey now, myself. I've got a bottle of the good stuff.
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[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.]
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We're interesting, you and I. Two sides of the same coin, I'd wager. We weren't made the same, but small things like that don't matter in the grand scheme of things.
[He takes the drink carefully, smiling to show off the row of dagger-like teeth.]
I've found there's quite a lot here I like to drink. I'm not picky, as long as it's not too sweet. This place-- I've found it's slowed me down a little.
[But that's not important, not really. Not when there's so many questions Greed has to ask, so much he'd like to know.]
What's your story, if you don't mind my asking? I'm more than willing to return the favor, should you tell.
wow this is fucking late as hell
[He'll take whatever he can get. And take, take, he would.] - though how you say it, it sounds like you got the worst end of the deal. Being human before - [It's a bit of a connect the dots and a shot in the dark, but all arrows say he's on the right track. Least, he hopes so. Greed takes a step back, crawling in a rewind up a stool. He hunches over like a carrion bird on a stone; one leg extends to the floor, the other notches into one of the runs. And the ice-smooth scotch rests between them, hovering on a tilt against the round of his seat.] But slowed you down? What, you weren't what you used to be here?
[Greed pauses, though. When the bomb's dropped and his eyes shut, his grin cracks. Moving to slide up one jaw as his index taps against the side of the glass.] Equivalent exchange, then. I guess it wouldn't hurt - it's not like I'm going anywhere after this.
I'm the third - [Greed splays out his other hand, showing off his tattoo inked in red.] - for a little while, good ol'Pops had only us. Then the rest came. I don't really care how. I left about a hundred years before - [He flicks a glance to his scotch, sending it spinning with a slow-turn of the wrist.] - that's not really too different from you.
But I've died twice now. And not the kind we usually come back from.
no problem!
[It's not like he can really deny what he is. Greed stretches out his arms, looking from his bar to his counterpart.]
This place runs on a slow pace. I can't exactly go around acting like how I used to. It's just now how this place is. ...Well, most of the time, anyway.
[He's seen enough to know the place doesn't always make things easy for people, but that's not important right now. His counterpart's comment is more important. It makes him raise his brows. That certainly sounds like a hell of a story.]
Died twice? You're gonna have to explain that one. There's only so many ways to kill a homunculus.
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[A knowing kind of smile touches him and it is easier to read, given his company is himself. The expression is forced, curbed. As he tips his chin downward and Greed holds his glass out at this side. The sweat near the lip slides down one of his fingers with a prolonged stretch.] Not too many, but good ol'Pops knew what he was doing. I told him I wasn't going to work for him a second time. He didn't like the answer.
[Hot, boiling. The smell of it is something one doesn't forget. Greed's teeth clack together violently.] Boiled alive. Not exactly the way I thought I'd go out, but I didn't really have a choice.
[But when the words leave his mouth, it's the second death that really matters. Greed shrugs his shoulders, taking from the scotch in a healthy sip. His tongue feels dry, his throat more so. How long has it been, he doesn't know. Hours, days, years, centuries. It doesn't matter in the long run - once this trip is over, it'll be back to nothing.]
[And nothing is one word he just can't stand.] The other one's a little more complicated, but I was sharing a body with someone else. Figured it was better to leave him out of that business. Ha - ! [There's something genuine about his laugh; as a bark escapes him, cruel and naked.] To think, I did it for that little pissant.
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...ah, it's not that important. Not something he's really willing to discuss, not really.]
Sounds like neither of them hold back when it comes to their punishments. Guess I'm not surprised. If you're trying to accomplish goals, you can't exactly keep people who don't want anything to do with you around.
[He sounds pleased at the idea of his other self going down that same path. It's arrogance, almost certainly, but frankly he doesn't give a damn.
but that-- that explanation of his second death makes Greed pause, makes him remember something that happened the last time the world started getting screwy.]
Was he a kid? Dark hair, wore his bangs over his face?
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[The glass hits the bar with a fateful knock and Greed pauses. His fingers hover at the side of the glass and his head jerks up slowly.] Eh-? [For a moment, that sound holds out. Then a smile splits his face and he snaps his thumb, sending a cocked-gun motion to his counterpart.] You got it. Gunna guess you've met him before - that right?
Kid wanted to be emperor. Wouldn't be surprised if that's where he is now. [His chin dips, causing a forced smile to spread across his face. He doesn't need to say the rest - it's history. Long buried if they took the opportunity.]
[And for all purposes, he doesn't doubt that they did.]
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