♠ 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 arches a brow at Armand and releases his grip. Flattens his palms out on the surface of his shirt.] I am Greed. Solid, in the flesh. I want everything. [Those finger tips tighten again on Armand's shirt and they're twitching, throbbing against all that built up desire.]
Status, money - [It's a slow burn, but his voice starts to shake, starts to build. As he continues on his rant, he becomes louder and louder. His voice booms off the walls of the 'Nest.] - women, glory, sex, power! I want it all! [His nails scratch, biting right into the fabric.]
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[It's almost a physical sensation, spreading out from that hand on Greed's head, that same intrusive presence from before. Oh, but it's different now, caressive and alluring as a siren's song. And then it's gone, just as quickly as it came.
And then Armand is coming over the bar, tired of having it between them. He raises a hand to his neck, making a shallow slice. Then he tips his head to offer better access to the wound, and shoots Greed an expectant look.]
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[He wraps hands around, laces the fingers at the knuckles, and lands them right at the small of the Armand's back. Guides him close, sealing the space. His eyes watch the wound and he shrugs. Dips his head just so, let's his teeth graze for a moment.] So, I guess what they say is true. [Stories of old - vampires were tempters, deal bringers, and rotten. Good thing Greed doesn't care ( ... )
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[And then Greed is biting in - and he's right that Armand's not bothered by the pain. It takes a hell of a lot to hurt him at all, and he's something of a masochist on top of that. So if anything, he relishes the pain, enough to let himself be drawn in without a fight.
[It helps, too, that Greed's lowering his head puts his neck right there at Armand's lips. He tightens his grip on Greed's hair before sinking his fangs in - that seems equal enough trade to him, blood for blood. And after the initial sting of the bite, there comes a rush of pleasure, near orgasmic in its intensity.]
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[Besides, he's had worse.]
[He feels that rush and he slams him and Armand right against the bar. Knocks the glass of vodka right over with a sharp crash. The poor bottles of his bar are suffering as of late, but he can find replacements. Especially since he is getting everything he wants.]
[It's all a rush and the energy shudders through him. Makes his back muscles tighten and retract. Makes his hips move and his fingers scrape like terrible claws.]
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[His back hits the bar, Greed's fingers go scraping down his back, and he arches, hips moving against Greed's.
[For his kind, most sex acts pale in comparison to the pleasure of hunting and feeding. But that doesn't mean he's physically incapable, or that he doesn't enjoy it at all when he does it. It just means he gets most of his thrills vicariously, through the blood.]
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[Greed's laughing through it all, laughing as the blood fills his jaw and caresses his throat. It's a sticky mess.] Keep it coming. [One of his hands leave Armand's back, finds a nice nest of hair. His fingers tangle in it, grab and pull. He'll jerk that head back if Armand allows, if not only to get more room for himself. Because that blood is enough to drive a simple man to do stupid things. When it comes to the homunculus, it's enough to drag him right into the metaphorical pit ( ... )
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[A shiver runs down his spine as Greed laps at the wound, as much at the words as the sensation. What he wants? A break in the monotony. To be able to set aside the mask for a change and be his monstrous self.] Maybe I wanted to take my shot at the man who can't die.
[It's not entirely untrue. He'd wanted to take David, too, whether the other man would have him or not. To bring the other, very probably stronger vampire down under his fangs with his greater craft and cunning.
[To his thinking, a fellow vampire might be fair sport, but Greed can only be better.]
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[Because that tear is healing, bolts of electric-red arcing up and tapering off at the hair-line. Disappearing in quick flashes, like the end of a thunderstorm.] Actually, nothing is taken from me at all. My avarice runs deep. [A casual shrug.] But you being perceptive would know that, wouldn't you? Fine little talents you've got there.
[He thumbs Armand's chin, lifts it just so. Stares at him with those wild and promising eyes.] So, are you going to give it to me? Show me everything you got? Test your own limits ( ... )
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[He doesn't mind the lack of space, in fact he encourages it, wrapping a leg around Greed's and matching him push for push, digging nails into the flesh of his shoulders and drawing more blood just because he can, capricious little beast that he is.
[Because no matter how much damage he deals out, Greed will just bounce back. And that thrills him, excites him so much it almost hurts.
[He stares back at Greed, eyes dark and hungry and just as wild.] This [He tightens his grip on Greed's shoulders, writhes his hips suggestively against Greed's own] isn't proof enough that I am?
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And you will. You'll give me everything I want, won't you? Because it's in your nature - you need something so badly, it burns, doesn't it? Always does. No relief. [Those lips move from Armand's, hover at an ear.] I get it, I really do. I'd say I was sorry, but that'd be a lie.
[His breath is warm, hot like hell fire.] And I'm not a liar. I don't need to manipulate people to get what I want. You're all so eager to jump, I don't even have to - [And he rolls his hips, catches the vampire and holds him there.] - push.
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[He doesn't even try to deny it, because Greed's absolutely right. He could drink the world dry and he'd still want more.
[He shivers at the hot breath on his neck, and despite that air probably couldn't fit between them at this point tries to drag Greed closer yet. He loves that heat, craves it all the more because he will never be so warm and alive again. Even the stolen blood making him flushed and hot to the touch now can't last forever.]
You want me to say it? Fine. [He pulls Greed's face down close to his again.] I'm all in. [And then he's kissing Greed again, biting, lapping at his bloodied lips.]
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[Greed grabs him, leg over his hip, and topples him onto the bar top. Pushes over the glass of vodka and lets it smash to the floor. He's bent over Armand like the damn predator he is. Allows that kiss, the bite, the blood. Because he takes his own, sinks teeth into swollen flesh and snarls. His boots grind into the floor, squealing out under the pressure of their master, their owner.]
[Greed fans his fingers out, grabs both of the vampire's knees. Holds them tight and urges them to squeeze - wrap around his torso. He slides his tongue, getting more of that oh-so-addictive blood. Swallows it down into his pit and lets the 'Stone lap it up as much as it wants.]
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Whatever Greed takes, he takes right back, tearing flesh and lapping at the wounds until they heal over, shuddering as it burns through his veins. But little tastes here and there can't satisfy him for long, and so he tilts head, sinking his fangs into Greed's throat with a moan.
[But he hasn't left Greed hanging entirely - his neck is still right there for the homunculus to sink his teeth into, the unmarked skin almost taunting...]
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[The teeth in his throat, the moaning little thing under him? What poor bastard wouldn't be tempted? And Greed wants the whole thing. He fans his teeth out with a snarling-hiss, sinks them in and tears. Rips flesh to ribbons, allows blood to pass from his lips, slip down his chin, and drip onto the bar. Because it feels good - he loves the way it rocks his core, sends excessive energy bolting up his arrays, sinking into his spine in two points.]
[His hands leave thighs, touch the inner dwellings, the move up. He's skilled with his fingers, and he's popping buttons like it was his damn job. All the while, he's drinking his fill. Maybe blood tastes a little tangy, but he has a familiar relationship with it.]
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