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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[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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[Though, actually, he had been willing to work for her for a time. He doesn't say anything about that, though, stretching out his fingers individually.
He's silent for a moment. It's been a long time. It's still a little hard to believe, and just as surreal as it was all those months ago, when it first happened.]
He showed up some months ago, or, well, you showed up some months ago and we had a brief chat. Hard to remember what we talked about, now.
[Hearing about the kid, though, ah...
Really, Greed looks pleased.]
Sounds like he and I would get along. I'm not surprised you found common ground with him.