014.MPG [Video]

[white_stitches]

[The video glimpses one of the new race tracks as it pans to the right. The stars in the background seem smudged, though the explanation for that comes quickly as Amelia pulls the camera away from a glass pane. She steps away from the garage's window as she turns the camera towards herself

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[nestingdevil]

Video |
[Truth be told, Greed's never seen a race track like this before. Race tracks were for horses and jockeys - for men of desperation and big men with big money. So he's curious, more so because he has absolutely no idea what the hell Amelia is sitting next to. Cars were a luxury and they ran with loud putts and bursts of smoke and steam from where he hailed from. This? He can't make it out.]

Never seen one of those before. [He tilts his head back.] But if you know to work one of those things - [He gestures to the car with an outstretched hand.] - I'll take you up on your offer.

[white_stitches]

[She remembers Greed's loud mannerisms and teeth from his first video, which puts her very much on edge.] I-I think so, unless they're more advanced than what I can remember? Which might be the case. Sorry. [Amelia stands up and approaches the driver's side door.]

[nestingdevil]

Video |
[Greed purrs as he watches her and places his elbows on bent knees.] Go on, show me how it works and I might see if I can get down there to join you.

[white_stitches]

Yes, sir. [She pulls on the driver door, but it's locked.] Um...I'll go get the keys. [Amelia scurries away, towards somewhere else in the garage. Who's staffing this place?] Unless you're talking about this kind of car in particular, a-and I'm misinterpreting, then sorry...to drive one, you go forward by pressing on the gas pedal, the small one, and stop with the large brake pedal. Turning the steering wheel makes it turn.

[nestingdevil]

[Greed won't deny that he likes the sound of "sir" coming off her lips. But sir is a title for gents and military men - he likes it, likes the power it holds and it does have him make a noise from deep within, like a soft rumble. But:] You're not one of mine - drop the sir, doll. [Because she isn't - not saying he wouldn't have her, but she's not his and he's no decorated soldier. Hates the lot, really.]

Ah, so - basics are the same as the ones back home. Can't say I've driven many, but I can give in a whirl. [He's back to watching.] Snag one of the nice ones - don't go for crap. I want to see how one of those babies really moves.

[Because he has a sneaking suspicion - and his avarice is always right - that one of those cars will fly.]

[white_stitches]

Mh-hm. [Amelia looks away from the communicator.] Should I call you Greed, then? [She keeps looking for an attendant, and spots one.]

[nestingdevil]

You've got it - that's the name.

[white_stitches]

Mh-hm. Um, I'll mute for a few minutes. E-excuse me... [She shuts off the audio feed and approaches the attendant.]

[It only takes a few minutes for Amelia to explain herself, deal with some kind of form, and acquire a set of temporary keys. She holds them close to the screen for a moment as she's walking back to the car, before turning the audio back on.]

S-sorry about that. When will you be ready?

[nestingdevil]

[Greed waits patiently and casually. He leans into the seat he's on and his phone goes limp in his hands. He's got both his arms thrown over the back of a couch, feet propped up, throat poking out from his fur collar. He hums, waiting - she better find a good one, because he's not going to go through all that trouble for something sub-par.]

[Her voice bubbles from his side and he lifts his phone.] Give me fifteen minutes. What did you find, by the way?

[white_stitches]

[She points the communicator.] It's the silver one. [It's kind of boxy with unusually-spaced headlights and bumpers, with a garish and elaborate navy-and-gold design on the hood. ...okay.]

[nestingdevil]

Ah, ah-! That one isn't too shabby. [He rights himself with a swing of his legs and the momentum sends him upright, though the feed flips upside down. He turns it with a flick of the wrist.] Can't deny silver - it's a nice color. Would have preferred gold, but -

[He 'tsks' himself into silence.]

Be there in three shakes.

[white_stitches]

...Should I go back and ask for something else? [Her arm relaxes; the communicator is pointing at the ground now, leaving her voice muffled.] I'll wait.

[nestingdevil]

➥ Action |
[No, because here he comes, thumbs in his belt loops. He's trotting like a stallion out of the gates, curved boots kicking up dirt, dust, and on occasional rock. Greed definitely has a bounce in his step; it's like he's walking to the beat of song.] That'll be just fine. [And there he is. He settles up next to his company, gives her a smile, then turns to the car.]

[And Greed's in love.]

[He crouches down - tall guy and all - and puts his palms on the chrome finish.] Nice. [He slides his hands across the surface of the car, murmuring something in the back of his throat.] Very nice. [His teeth knock together in a too-tight smile.] No, doll - you've got a good eye. [Nails tap out a rhythm on the side of the vehicle.] And you said you got the keys, right?

[white_stitches]

[His reaction takes a weight off her mind, and she smiles.] Here. [She holds out the keys for him.]

[nestingdevil]

[Greed takes the keys without a second thought, wraps them around his fingers with a new found fever. He slides his hands up the car, straightening until he's standing.]

[But he's got a lip out, puzzled. He circles the car, inspecting every angle, every curve.] Che - I don't think I can take the wheel. How about you show me how this works.

OOC | Oh jeez. So sorry. This got lost in my inbox.

[white_stitches]

Mh-hm. [Her hand extends, towards him, a nonverbal request for permission to take the keys back. Once (if?) she gets them, Amelia unlocks the driver door. With a little effort, she climbs into the seat, which isn't positioned well for someone as tiny as her. She starts the car and flinches momentarily at the loud noise of a powerful engine starting up.

She finds the seat adjuster, moving it enough so that her feet actually reach the pedals, and then she places her hands on the wheel.] D-does this look familiar now?