the name's greed (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nestingdevil) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenace2014-04-20 11:36 pm
nestingdevil) wrote in maskormenace2014-04-20 11:36 pm
♠ second || ➥ video
[The recording starts with a catch of a ceiling made of low-grade wood. It's alight with a sickly red-yellow; fading with each wafting-pass of spindling smoke. The lights above are older and the bulbs have obviously seen their fair share of cigarette smoke and dust. They bleed bleary through, but it's a dim effort at best.]
[For the most part, the place seems rather quiet - the lull spinning of a fan blade above, some sort of tune playing out a jukebox nearby: "-wraps her lips around the Mexican coke, makes you wish you were the bottle, takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like - "]
[But a sudden clanking of glassware interrupts the surface and then:]
Oi, oi, oi - careful with that, won't ya?
[The voice is low; swayed by a baritone, humming out each note. However, despite the chiding, it seems pleasant enough. A bit snide and sing song as a palm and accompanying fingers snatch at the feed. For a moment, it's a bit of a washout. The bar cut-off by the smothering hand before Greed rights it again. The angle catches his jaw line, his rather signature smile. Laced to the brim with teeth to match as he snaps his fingers to someone off camera.] We just opened, you know. No need to make things messy, all right?
[The phone's propped up; shoved at a vertical angle a bit carelessly to catch a glimpse of the owner's back and shoulder. Before it clacks dully against the side of a bottle, showing off a growing collection. The place is hardly worth a second look at; dusty and dark. Grim like the next back alley hell hole and Greed sways his hand back and forth.] Eh- don't worry about it.
[But unlike the first time he used the device, he's very much aware now. And after the conversation's good and done, the Sin slips a glance back to the feed. An arch of the eyebrow's the only signal he's actually paying attention. Because those shades are just a tad too dark. As he recoils on the recording, tipping over the jut of his hip with a terrible sort of grin.] I'm sure you're all still a bit busy, but I figured it's as good a time as any.
[Greed tilts his head to the side playfully and two-fingers laced touch his collar bone. Stretching out as he makes the best mock of a bow.] In case we haven't met, the name's Greed. But I'm sure that's not really what you're interested in.
[A heel clunks against the floorboards below; he's circling both the bar and the feed. Straightening as he talks. As he curves and cuts with fishtail precision.] I usually don't do this sort of thing, so consider it a one time deal. [An index sways out, tilting in the direction of an unseen wall.] Bring something worth it and it may earn you a drink on the house. Otherwise, consider it all half off for the day.
[Thunk, thunk he goes until he's got both knees swaying in opposite directions. He shows off his other hand, the one tattooed-red against the backside of his palm.] It's called The Devil's Nest. You can't really miss it.
[With that, he extends a finger forward. And after a few minutes of fiddling, the feed goes black.]
[For the most part, the place seems rather quiet - the lull spinning of a fan blade above, some sort of tune playing out a jukebox nearby: "-wraps her lips around the Mexican coke, makes you wish you were the bottle, takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like - "]
[But a sudden clanking of glassware interrupts the surface and then:]
Oi, oi, oi - careful with that, won't ya?
[The voice is low; swayed by a baritone, humming out each note. However, despite the chiding, it seems pleasant enough. A bit snide and sing song as a palm and accompanying fingers snatch at the feed. For a moment, it's a bit of a washout. The bar cut-off by the smothering hand before Greed rights it again. The angle catches his jaw line, his rather signature smile. Laced to the brim with teeth to match as he snaps his fingers to someone off camera.] We just opened, you know. No need to make things messy, all right?
[The phone's propped up; shoved at a vertical angle a bit carelessly to catch a glimpse of the owner's back and shoulder. Before it clacks dully against the side of a bottle, showing off a growing collection. The place is hardly worth a second look at; dusty and dark. Grim like the next back alley hell hole and Greed sways his hand back and forth.] Eh- don't worry about it.
[But unlike the first time he used the device, he's very much aware now. And after the conversation's good and done, the Sin slips a glance back to the feed. An arch of the eyebrow's the only signal he's actually paying attention. Because those shades are just a tad too dark. As he recoils on the recording, tipping over the jut of his hip with a terrible sort of grin.] I'm sure you're all still a bit busy, but I figured it's as good a time as any.
[Greed tilts his head to the side playfully and two-fingers laced touch his collar bone. Stretching out as he makes the best mock of a bow.] In case we haven't met, the name's Greed. But I'm sure that's not really what you're interested in.
[A heel clunks against the floorboards below; he's circling both the bar and the feed. Straightening as he talks. As he curves and cuts with fishtail precision.] I usually don't do this sort of thing, so consider it a one time deal. [An index sways out, tilting in the direction of an unseen wall.] Bring something worth it and it may earn you a drink on the house. Otherwise, consider it all half off for the day.
[Thunk, thunk he goes until he's got both knees swaying in opposite directions. He shows off his other hand, the one tattooed-red against the backside of his palm.] It's called The Devil's Nest. You can't really miss it.
[With that, he extends a finger forward. And after a few minutes of fiddling, the feed goes black.]