♠ SECOND || ➥ VIDEO
[There's a flicker and the video starts. Greed's behind the counter of the 'Nest and the camera is set on what appears to be a pool table. It's midday, so the joint is empty.]
[He's all smiles, hands placed atop of his bar.] It's that day, folks. Maybe some of you know, maybe some of you don't. But I promised to deliver and I don't count myself a ( Read more... )
[He's all smiles, hands placed atop of his bar.] It's that day, folks. Maybe some of you know, maybe some of you don't. But I promised to deliver and I don't count myself a ( Read more... )
[Blood and gore ceased to phase him long ago, and even watching someone oh-so-casually blowing his brains out doesn't faze him much. Watching him come back to life after the fact, now... that's a shock.
The process reminds him of the way his kind regenerate, light-show aside, and he stares intently into his communicator without so much as blinking.]
Incredibile... [It's little more than a whisper, and his tone more wondering than truly shocked. This is interesting - very interesting indeed...]
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[He watches idly as the glass spins, the way the bar lights refract through it and make geometric patterns on the wood.] Vodka and lime. [Not that it matters too much, since drinking it straight from the glass can't do anything for him anymore...]
Of course. I said I would, didn't I? [He didn't actually say that, not in so many words, but who cares? It's all semantics.]
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[Vodka is plucked and poured. It sloshes around a glass that's a little fancier than the rest - Greed knows a man who likes good tastes. After all, he demands the finer things too. And he'll treat until he gets what he wants - a display akin to a life that he knows. Not the pulsing energy of a Saint, not the scowl-lips of a lawman, not the sultry eyes of a healer. Those are all new. But Armand? His very nature is the underworld Greed remembers.]
[The lime's cut with a flick of the knife. Greed's pleased when he sets it down on the edge of the glass.] You're going to show me everything? No holding back? Then, you've earned it. I'll give a little, take a lot. [He twirls the knife through his fingers, spins it around his knuckles and displays it out. His ( ... )
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[His fingers curl against bar, muscles tensing as he seems to poise himself to spring. He grabs for that hand - but then the wound is closed so he corrects himself halfway and goes for the glass instead, sipping at it to buy himself time, a few moments to think around the bloodlust and get back some semblance of control.
[Finally, he looks at Greed again, his gaze still heated and hungry - but he can't help that. He could drink until he was fit to burst with blood, but it wouldn't be enough to stop him from wanting even more. Such is the nature of the beast.]
Where did you want to start? [He takes another sip of the vodka, chasing the taste of blood in it.]
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[It's a casual sprawl over the bar and the homunculus has no qualms getting right up in the vampire's face. Two beasts of different colors, but both in shades of black.] How about you just show me everything. I want to see it all. Everything you can do - I'm a collector of talents. [Talents to be used for his own. To fill the 'Nest once again.]
Don't hold back now. I don't want to be be disappointed. [He bites a nail, cracks something locked under flesh, pumping with that blood that Armand seems so heated for.]
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[He cocks a brow at the word 'collector' but says nothing - yet. He isn't one for being collared and leashed, not by anyone.]
That isn't much, right at the moment. You've heard of the Head Doctor's habit of stealing our powers and handing them back piecemeal, I'm sure - I've only got one back yet, so far.
[But what a one it is - suddenly, with no warning, there's something prying its way into Greed's mind, with the intent of running its sticky fingers through all his memories, his secrets, his deepest, darkest impulses. And Armand has yet to break eye contact.]
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[And then, there's a feeling in his skull.]
[Greed doesn't like it.]
[Because all those souls that make him up, with him at its core? They're writhing. Thousands of human beings from a land long dead. They vibrate and sink. And if Armand gets close enough - if he sees - there are flickers of images, black and white against all that red. But those seem to disappear; they are broken down and swallowed. Because at the core of it all is the devil's soul. And yeah, maybe it looks like Greed. Soulless white-eyes, horrible teeth that protrude out. Lines of red alchemy that are pure with power.]
[On the surface, Greed's teeth set. The smile he wears is jagged.]
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[So he sees it all. Catches those flickering black-and-white images in his hands, just to get the barest taste before they run through his fingers. Prods those writhing souls just to catch the faint echo of their minds, whoever and whatever they used to be. Forces himself into every crack and crevice without even trying to be gentle, because Greed wanted it all, violence included. And there, at the heart of it all-
[He pulls back, and the dead don't breathe but he looks winded. For a moment. Then his lips curve in a tiny, satisfied smile. He wanted to know what makes Greed tick; now he does.]
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- now, what the hell was that. [Because he's a covetous one - those memories, those souls, his everything is just that. It's his.] Now, now, now. I'm all in the business of wants, but they're my wants. [His pupils dilate.]
Do you think you could take without a little give? Maybe I didn't make this clear. [Greed's grip tightens, his wrist turns.] I'm Greed - that's desire you see. I want it all and no one takes anything from me. [But that intensity subsides with a few well-placed laughs.] Not that I'm calling you a thief, but.
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We call it the Mind Gift. It's a combination of telepathy and telekinesis, with a bit of an empathetic element to it. It can be used the way I just did, or put to more subtle uses. [He says all this in a low, calm tone, and Greed might feel some outside force pushing at his fingers briefly, or hear a soft, seductive voice in his mind urging him to let go - but neither lasts long. This is just a demonstration, after all.]
I didn't think a look around would constitute taking anything, but since apparently it does, allow me to give you something to make up for it
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No, it's not. But I'm a man who doesn't like to spoil when he can avoid it. Rather show when the time's right. [A shrug of his shoulders and his own fur is puffed out. Alpha much?]
Oh, I'll be glad for something. Especially if you're willing to give it.
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Here, then. [One hand settles on either side of Greed's face, drawing the homunculus close again of his own accord. Greed might get a brief glimpse of something glittering wet and red in the seem of his lips, before the vampire's mouth seals over his like a vice.
There comes a trickle of blood into his mouth - and then the rush will set in. Think of the best high you've ever had, and then multiply it by a hundred, or a thousand. That's what this feels like. Then there's an acute sharpening of all five senses, mimicking vampire eyes, ears, nose and taste buds.
And Armand draws away, watching to see how Greed will react.[
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[Those eyes - oh those purple eyes are just larger than life, bloodshot as the rush hits him in waves. Bounces back against his own static current. And of course, the old beat comes back, drumming: more, more, more[But Armand is pulling back. Greed can't help the shake in his fingers and the laughter that brews out of him. It's hot like brimstone, burning like Hell. He rolls back on his heels, then jerks all the way forward. It's so close, his shades could put dents in the pretty ( ... )
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[Then comes that demand for more. He laughs, but he does it again, giving Greed a bigger draught of blood this time. One of his fangs grazes Greed's lip, breaking skin, and the vampire can't resist lapping at the wound, drinking down all the blood he can before the wound closes.
[And even that little taste is a rush of fire through his veins. A shudder runs down his spine, and he makes a throaty little noise, very nearly sexual.]
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[Greed's hungry, always is, always will be. Despite everything he already has, he just can't help his nature. Can't oppress the wicked, after all. His teeth are all out - no holds bars - and they try to tear, if not just to get a reaction. His fingers slice through the air, snap like the bite of viper. Clutch onto fabric of a shirt and he's drinking it all in.]
[Who knows how long it'll last, that feeling of power. Greed doesn't. Hasn't had this kind of high before. Well, maybe he has but it was from an entirely different breed. Holy hell fire, as he'd like to call it. But Armand doesn't need to know.]
[He snarls and his body thunks up right against the bar. He can hear that noise, loves it actually.] You people - [He says against blood-soaked lips, all the energy crackling in his mouth.] - and your avarice.
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[And since it's not in his nature to just lie back and submit, he returns the favor, tear for tear. He can practically taste the energy arcing up from the wounds, and it sends another shudder through him. His hands settle on Greed's shoulders, tugging him closer even as he himself practically crawls up onto the bar.
[The words make him laugh, low and husky.] You're one to talk.
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