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[nestingdevil]

[The feed's a little erratic. Flipping and turning and it's very clear from the get-go that the owner of the device has it shoved pocket-deep with the switched turned on. From the compromised position, the recording doesn't illuminate much. Just a bit of the mid-afternoon sun creeping in, edging out a hand with thick-knuckles in a stream-line of gold. However, despite being slightly muffled, a voice does come through the line. Thick and sultry, proud with a hum that seems to hold out each syllable. Grazing against teeth as the man says one thing only:]

Thanks, pal.

[The smile is practicably audible and wet. Deadly-sharp and two dull clacks of a heel follow. The owner's a bit distracted - as if he doesn't know that he's turned the whole network into a one-man show - and he knocks solidly on the hood of a car. Once, twice. Sending it off as an engine growls and wheels kick tiny stones down the pavement. For a few seconds, it's only the rush of air as a thumb snatches the device. And then, finally, it sees the light of day.]

Ah, right. [The feed flips. Head over heel as it's tossed up and snatched in a solid grip. For a hot-second, there's a flash of fur, a catch of leather. Until it settles to the side, peering upwards to highlight the underside of a throat. Round panes of glass make up a pair of shades that seem to swallow the sun high up in the air and the man smiles. Really smiles. Pulling back his lips and it's like the jaws of a shark opening wide. Points that are razor-cut and they line up, tooth by tooth, in a terrible and wicked row.] That was a little rude, wasn't it?

[So maybe the initial tuning-in was intentional. Either way, present company doesn't seem too bothered. Instead, he shrugs. Tilting his head to the side and his eyebrows dip into small U(s). Following the silver-rims of his sunglasses as he raises his other hand to the feed. He gives two taps to the temple, knocking his skull to punctuate his point. Whatever that point is.] Well, I gotta say - this is new. But then again - [His lips close up, his grin smarmy. As if could have the whole world in the palm of his hand.]

- there's no such thing as no such thing.

[The stranger slides his heel back, letting his shoulders sag forward. Like every part of him is entirely boneless and he shoots his head over the collar of fur framing his neck. The mockery of a bow in every fashion and two fingers rise to touch the dip of his collarbone.]

The name's Greed - [He says, finally. A long-overdue introduction and the Sin rolls his tongue to the smooth side of his teeth. Lets his eyebrows knit together, making waves of his forehead.] - why don't we start being good friends, hmn?

Comments

permavid!

[heartlessglitch]

Is that a descriptive name?

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[nestingdevil]

Depends, lovely. If you're asking if it's just a nickname, then no. [For a moment, he eyes the response and the cool-hard cut of his shades seem to swallow up the video in question. Blue touches silk-smooth black glass, making his sockets seem hollow. Not unlike a skull, staring back with a toothy grin.]

I am Greed. But that's not really what you're interested in, is it? [The Sin's body turns, hip-checking out as he watches the street further down. A few cars pass by, snatching the sun to reflect it back, before letting it pour free onto concrete again.]

First thing's first though - what's your name, hmn? Seems only fair, since I already did you the favor.

[toolongdidntrejoice]

What kind of man is named for a sin?

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[nestingdevil]

One that actually is one. Sort of. [Like a new-found puppy in a playground full of things to chew, Greed's snagged a smoke somewhere between the drop-off point and the stroll down concrete lane. He grinds his teeth into the edge, flicks a match across his thigh (also: stolen) and casually puffs for a few seconds.]

Not exactly human - artificial, if you really have to know. [The glow of the fresh-match rides in his shades. Spinning and flitting across the black-glass, as if trying to give the sun a run for it's money.]

Homunculus - [Greed trails off as smoke slithers through his teeth and he flicks the half-worn butt with a finger, sending it bouncing down the street.] - though now that I've told you mine, it seems fair for you to do me the favor, hmn?

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[slightlyoffchilt]

Who did your dental work? I want to know, so I can avoid him.

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[nestingdevil]

[For a second, Greed sports the look of a deer in headlights. It's comical, practically hilarious, as his eyebrows shoot up, his frown falls, and for a moment longer, he stays that way.]

[Then he's snapping back violently. Tossing his skull with enough force that it'd probably snap a bone or two. Or at least feel like shit in the morning. But Greed's laughing - all opened-jawed and fangs out, his own palms clutching his hips, force-pressing the device against the jut of his bones and cutting out part of the frame.]

[Of course, he doesn't notice.] Ha - ! Aren't you a bit of a pissant. [The homunculus finally rotates his wrist away, snaps at the feed with the opposite hand.] Didn't, but that's usually not the first thing people point out.

What's your name, friend? Or is that something we're not sharing right now?

[video]

[attractedtodarkness]

[Violet is far too amused by this introduction. He seems different and different is always good in her book]

Smarmy, aren't you? The teeth are an overkill for a vampire wannabe though.

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[nestingdevil]

I've been told that before. [That grin turns warm, inviting. As if simmering to a fine line, both crooked and hot in design. It's hell-fire laced, none-too-good and Greed shuts his eyes behind his shades.] But you've got me all wrong, lovely. I'm not one of those.

[Vampire? No, hardly. Don't even have those where he's from and Greed presses a thumb and a middle-finger to the rounds of his shades. Shoves them up the bridge of his nose and really, it's to kill two birds with one stone. Because there's ink on his hand. Tattooed red, a serpent in the process of consuming itself by its own tail.]

[Beyond the edge of his fingers, the homunculus sneers again. There's excitement there. Twisting and weaving through ever jagged edge of his jaw.] Homunculus - [Greed says as a one-word answer. As if it explains everything and he knows damn well that it doesn't.]

[But he's such a sucker for a baited hook and a good show that he can't help himself.]

[He releases his shades with a smooth slide, arching his shoulder back as his palm trails and hooks a thumb through the belt-loop of his leather pants. He tips to the side, turning his head away even as he side-glances to get a better look at the feed back.] - ever heard of it?

AUDIO.

[selfimage]

Hello, Greed. I'm Loki of Asgardia. Well-met and everything else meaning the same.

Wouldn't you wish to screen your company before you choose it, or do you normally take friends on whim?

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[nestingdevil]

[Truth be told, he really doesn't know the technology very well. So it's stuck on video, even if the other end's quiet with just a voice.] Loki, huh. [Greed repeats, a little absently. His thumb touches the dip of his chin, forming to the curve where his lip puckers out rather curiously. Like this, he could almost come off as innocent.]

[Almost, not quite there, and it sure isn't a pass-go with two-hundred bucks in the back-pocket. But hey - he tried.]

Ah-? Sorry, not exactly used to this kind of thing. Didn't really have it back where I'm from. [His eyebrows sink below his shades and his smile tugs up one side of his jaw with a quick-move slice.] But no - to answer your question. Much rather keep things honest, right?

[A click-clack of the heel and he's casually bouncing it on the concrete. Before another brush of warm-wet air takes him, sending him down the walkway in an opposing direction.] I make it a point not to lie - call it one of my few standards. But if you'd like to explain this whole "locking" process, I'm all ears.

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[gandere]

No thanks.

[ She shoots him down instantaneously... though she could have just been the bigger person and ignored the message in the first place. ]

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[nestingdevil]

Ah-?

[Maybe it's because he's caught off-guard, maybe it's because it's just plain rude. Or maybe it's because he's not used to being shot-down so easily. Either way, Greed whistles through his teeth a little sarcastically, slumping his body to the side as if he's actually a bit hurt by the implication.] Oi, oi, oi -

[He's not, not really, and lips press together as his smile drops. Ouch.] - no need to be rude about it.

Video

[foreshadower]

What a monicker.

Did you choose that yourself?

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[nestingdevil]

No, not exactly.

[The Sin's already on the move. Shuffling a slow gait, motioning heel over curved-toe. His shoulders slump forward and there's a laziness to his movements that seem ill-placed. But his eyebrows do press together, furrowing with an interest that has that grin of his growing. Pressing and straining his face, stretching the skin rather thin.]

I am Greed, but good guess. [He hums and rolls his tongue back. As if he's testing the body out and he is, technically. It's been a long time since he was last in his own skin and the feeling's nice.]

[But company's better and what's a nice little boost to the ego after a second permanent dirt-nap.] Good ol'Pop's avarice, if you really have to know.

[voice]

[glassinine]

[And this voice is thoughtful and low. He's not about to comment on those...terrifying teeth; instead, his comment is a philosophical one - ]

Good say; Miles Edgeworth. I must take issue with one thing you've said. Your premise is that there are no impossible things in the world?

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[nestingdevil]

[The name itself should throw all red flags to well-bred and as human as they come, but Greed ignores it. Instead, showing off a knowing sort of smile. As he sinks back into his spine, his shoulders; like a recoiling serpent with a means to strike.]

That's right, Chief. [The Sin snaps and ricochets his fingers off in a spiraling motion as his elbow dips and swings.] I'm proof of that - I really shouldn't be here, after all.

[fingerbang]

[ Oh, come on, not this again. She's had her share of odd snatches of sentences from the communicator, recently; somewhat earlier today she glanced over at it only to see Pride's eyes and hideous little shadow babyhands coming out of the screen! With one notable exception, they've all been illusory. It's almost a pity, really. Startling as they are, and as loath as she is to separate any of her remaining comrades from the plan, the company of truly likeminded individuals would be welcome at a time like this. Someone with finesse would be preferable, of course, but at this point she'd even take Sloth. Anyone, anyone at all, just so long as it's not--

Wait. How long has this broadcast been going? ]

[fingerbang]

[ A long time. A really long time. She grabs the communicator from where it's lying, on the side of her bed, and blinks repeatedly, which has helped clear away some of the less persistent hallucinations in the past. He's still there.

She slaps herself in the face, hard. He's still there. Why is he still there. The most likely answer is the simplest and the least palatable. ]

[fingerbang]

[ uuuuuuuugggghggjhjjhhhhhhh is a little déclassé for her, but it's also the most accurate representation of her inner monologue ]

done and private!

[fingerbang]

[ For all she wanted to destroy the Colonel, she still gave him a public welcome, but this is very different. This is family business, and that goes unaired. She locks the connection before snapping on her audio feed, and the actual message is every bit as clipped. ]

Indiscriminate as ever. Your timing is terrible.

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[guiloteen]

this is not a theater.

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[nestingdevil]

[Well, no shit.]

[Greed claps, bringing his phone up with him as he drawls out of few solid clacks of the palm.] Did you figure that out all on your own?

[But he's not offended. Couldn't be. And when the clapping stops, he merely raises his hands over his head. Sending the feed whirling up like a hell-bound roller coaster, only to dive back down when he finally lets his arms sag again. It's the gimmick of a surrender, at best.]

No need to be rude about it.

[incendere]

("There's no such thing as no such thing." Among all the other phrases that had filtered through, that was the one that caught Roy's attention the most. He had heard it before from Alphonse Elric, when he was just beginning to learn about the homunculi and their connection to everything.

So, this was who Alphonse was talking about that day.)

Greed, huh? (A pause, as he takes in his appearance. He never knew what Greed looked like. The time that he had actually talked to him, during the Promised Day, was when he was blind, and even then his intonations sounded a little different than this one.) That's quite a name.

[nestingdevil]

[And speaking of old ghosts.]

Mn? [For a second, Greed's got a frown. One eyebrow perked up as he hears the familiar voice. They didn't exactly having a knowing relationship and a lot was lost in the cross-fire. But after a few mental-clicks, it's easier to place the voice.]

[And as soon as he recognizes it, that smiles of his splits his face from ear to ear.] Oh-? [He tests his tongue, snaps it against his teeth.] This place is just full of surprises, isn't it?

[A roll of the shoulder sends a dull click through the feed. As if his bones haven't been used in quite a while.] I thought we'd already done this. Don't tell me you went and forgot already.

[He 'tsks', turning his head away briefly before swinging it back again. At a canted tilt, his eyes peer out from beyond the edge of his shades.] Colonel, right? Or did that change since the last time?

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[crab]

What is with the sudden influx of unbelievably flashy douchebags? Is there a pandemic I'm not aware of? [ Well, yes, there is, but those aren't the symptoms. ]

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[nestingdevil]

[It's funny - he's thinking just about the same.]

[Greed slaps his foot to the floor, bucking over the jut of his hips as if he's about to teeter head-first over the side. And he's laughing - a jarring sort of noise, coming up from his would-be 'pit. It's too loud to be subtle, too obnoxious not to make his present company correct with the assumption. But Greed doesn't address it and instead, he tosses his wrist out. As if ushering company to the air around him.]

I don't know - seems most of the people here are lacking some manners.

[Shots fired.]

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[topslug]

[ Slicker than an oil spill, isn't he? She doesn't need a detective's intuition to guess that he's probably bad news, but she's curious enough about his appearance and his apparent disregard for... well, anything, really. A cursory skim of his responses so far has her tipping her head. ]

'Homunculus'? [ She sounds the unfamiliar word out, stumbling over the syllables. ] I suppose that means you're not a demon, then.

[nestingdevil]

Ah-?

[Greed's jaw falls slack for a moment before he swipes it away with a toss of a wrist. As if sending someone off and he's heading in the opposite direction.] No - [But this is much better company, a better greeting, than most he's received so far. The expression returns to the Cheshire's smile; coming into to the slicing-motion of teeth and Greed turns his eyes to the feed. Watches with something that could be mistaken for admiration.]

No - I'm not a demon, lovely. Though, that's a first. [By the time he answers, he's already half-way down the sidewalk. The sun at his back runs gold-orange lines across his shoulder.]

Artificial, if you really need to know. Human but not quite - though, I didn't say that to you. How did you know? [Greed talks, his gaze taken elsewhere. As if the sights and the sounds are a bit distracting.]