Welcome to Ryslig's test drive meme! If you're considering apping here, this is where you can try your characters out in the game's setting. A few things to note:
You can only app ONE character per round so choose wisely.
We now have a Quick Game Facts that simplifies the basic information about the game. Good if you want to see what the game is at a glance!
Lots of people have asked good questions on the FAQ, so do take a look.
The reserve date has been announced (it was changed to the 30th to allow a maximum number of people compared to a Friday).
Test drive meme threads can be used for your roleplay sample!
NEW! Players with characters already in the game can earn up to a maximum of 3 coins by replying to potential character threads! You will need to have your normal 20 comment AC in the game. You cannot use this to go over the bonus 10 coins per month total, but you can use it if you are missing some threads to reach that coin total. Same rules as normal bonuses apply.
Sample scenarios:
SCENARIO ONE: So you've just arrived, fresh out of the hospital, and already the natives are trying to get on your good side. Offers of food, shelter and other luxuries in return for hoping you don't eat them. They even have some helpful pamphlets to share with you. "How To Deal With Changes", "Alternatives to Human Flesh", "What to Expect When You're Expecting (to turn into a monster)" are all great pamphlets. There's even some detailing certain monsters, and the changes they go through.
Among these however, are some... not so helpful ones. "Bunnyipyips And You", "Axe Thief Axehounds," and "So you're becoming a Fur Bearing Trout" among others.
SCENARIO TWO: You've become hopelessly lost in Lager Woods. Paths don't seem to lead where you remember them leading, and you feel as if you're going around in circles. Childlike giggling can be heard from no direction in particular. Suddenly, you stumble upon another character, who seems to be just as lost as you! Perhaps you can find a way out together. Or maybe they want you for lunch...
SCENARIO THREE: You've heard about the fog, but you've never seen it before. Now, the mist surrounds you. Barely able to see before you, you need to get home - and fast. It's far too dangerous in this situation.
SCENARIO FOUR: The time has come and you've found yourself becoming a monster. Is the change instant, or gradual? Are you familiar enough with monsters to know what's happening, or is it a complete shock? NOTE: Feel free to pick any monster type for this prompt, but note that you may not get the same one in game.
[The fallout from the Rota incident is still fresh on most minds. As towns start to rebuild and settle back into some sort of normality. Vandare isn't an exception and on the south side, the grim reminders still scorch and scar. In claw marks dragged deep into brick, in soot that cakes in an oily pitch. The 'Nest itself isn't without its own battle bruises - the entrance is completely refitted, one or two windows still need some replacing. One remains broken still, its jagged glass giving a look like gnarled, splintered teeth.]
[Inside, it's still quiet. But it's also business as usual. A few lingering cast a look up at Stocke when the door slides open, the glance quick at first. As if they're waiting for something else, as if history has taught them that an open door is something more to fear. However, that fear subsides - a relief washes in. Stocke's a familiar face around here and that's more than enough to put some an ease.]
[For a moment or two, there's no answer. Only the soft tolling of glasses, the lazy rush of a tap. A smokey film drifts dreamily at the ceiling; as old tobacco and new find themselves interlaced in an intricate pattern of silvery-blue.]
[Then the boiler belches, a fire ignites, and a rolling baritone hisses from above. The staircase out back protests and shakes. Each step hitting sounding off like a gunshot.] Oh-? [Greed's voice hums through, his words tuning in a trill. As he coils and clips down the spiral staircase, the signature swoop of his boots showing before he has a chance to.]
[There are a few that know him - from Dublith, from after. He takes his time, waiting out the seconds in a slow-moving trawl that's entirely him. An easy kind of demeanor that's slippery at best. Both hands are shoved into his pockets once he hits the bottom floor and a wash of wicked color follows him; like a candle burning in the dark, the light spews out across the floor in a sooty haze. Greed lifts his head, showing off his wide-toothed grin.] Word has it there's a few new ones in town - it's not impossible.
[The two sets of horns protruding from his skull have somewhat healed in the aftermath following Rota. The one set on the left side of his forehead is a little smaller than the rest, the new links and chunks fresh - it isn't as blackened as the other three. Greed doesn't pay it much mind, though. Everything aside, they lucked out a bit better than most.]
[He pauses near the side entrance to the bar, his heel snapping back against the wood. In his movement, those shades of his glimmer. The muted-red glow from beneath peels at the frames - causing the color to race across silver and chrome.] So - what do you have for me, hmn?
[Edward's eyes flicker around and take in the gouge marks, the too-new door and window frames. It's too much to be any normal occurrance, he can tell that much. Something had happened recently, whether against just Greed or to all of the transformed. Somehow he has a feeling it's more of the former--he can't imagine the local populace would put up with monsters lurking around in their midst without something breaking.]
[He hides a grimace at the gesturing tendril (he knows it's hardly Stocke's fault, but cripes), and steps into the bar cautiously. He only ever saw the original Devil's Nest once, but this place is similar enough to ring with familiarity in his mind. The clientele certainly brings a shock (is that a spider-person over there?!), but his attention is drawn quickly to those ringing steps, the too-familiar boots that lead the descend of the homunculus into view.]
[Edward's eyes go wide as he takes in the changes, both physical and less-than-so. Good fucking god, is the man on fire? And the horns, wings and tail; it's almost too surreal, seeing Greed so very different and yet...still oddly himself. He doesn't miss the healing damage, another piece of that puzzle of recent events, but for now he sets that fact aside. Catching up on just what went down here still might well not even happen, once Greed realizes who it is that's come calling.]
You really are here!
[He strides several steps further into the bar before he stops short, his expression a mix of guilt and relief. What should he even say right now? 'I'm sorry I killed you?' 'It sucks you're some demonic-type freak, but at least you're alive again?' Is there anything he could say, after what happened?]
[Stocke is totally doing it on purpose and you know it or rather, the shade's used enough his monstrous appearance, to this peninsula, that he takes it for granted. Being around Greed's hardly helped in that regard; if there were ever a person to encourage others to embrace their transformations, it was the demon.]
[As soon as Edward's far enough inside, the shade pulls away from the door (practically glides), letting it slide shut behind them. It closes with a final-sounding click, as if it's far too late to leave now; Stocke himself doesn't move far, choosing to lean against the wall beside it. His arms cross, one leg bending over the other braced on the floor; the sheath of the blade at his side taps against the wall softly, once.]
[There's something in the shade's demeanor - subtle, with no particular single change that can be pointed out, but he's far more relaxed inside the 'Nest than he was without. It only gets more pronounced as the demon trails down the stairs. Whatever the reason, he trusts Greed.]
[And when the demon asks his question - 'What do you have for me?' - Stocke's quick enough to answer. He tilts his head in Ed's direction.] Pulled a native off him. He wanted to see the Nest once he heard the name.
[By this time Ed's already spilling out his exclamation; the shade's eyes flicker white in not-quite surprise, and he settles into silence to listen and watch. If there is trouble, it's obvious he'll be taking Greed's side; but he's not interested in blocking the door unless the demon gives him a signal.]
A native, huh? That all the trouble you ran into? [While that Cheshire-cat grin holds fast, there's no denying the slight undertone to his words. A bit biting, a little too hot. But it subsides as soon as it comes, the rush of blackening smoke slipping through the tips of his teeth in thick, charcoal ribbons. Greed slouches forward and his hand hangs loosely at his side. As his nails gingerly scraping against one another, bringing a spark or two.]
[But the calm doesn't last very long and a familiar voice shoots out from the dark. One of the women out back lifts her head, the various eyes embedded in her forehead opening at once. Like black pearls, they glean with the Sin's constant heat. She blinks them once, running her fingers along the side of her hair. It isn't a threat, least not at the moment. So she ignores it.]
Ah-?
[Greed perks up, his stance similar to a disturbed vulture. A comical kind of frown drags on his face and his eyebrows slide up from his sunglasses. Rippling his forehead until the thin, rectangular notches of scales stops them completely. He hasn't seen Edward Elric since that last day - since he pulled his final card, leaving the rest to finish off what he started. Of course then, he had been wearing a different face: a borrowed one. The Sin slides out one foot after the other, slicing over the tips of his boots in a slow-moving saunter.]
[He looks different than the former homunculus remembers. Missing something - that red of his that's such a part of him, Greed could hardly forget. A smile cracks up one half of his jaw, those teeth of his glinting in a serrated motion.] Oh-? It's been a while. [The baritone of his voice purrs thick in his throat; as Greed coils and twists, the proverbial predator on the prowl. At his backside, the long length of his tail drags and weaves. Making the decorated arrangements skip along side the uneven floor.]
Good work, bringing him here. [The Sin waves absently at Stocke, a gesture to signal that any further action isn't necessary. Least not here, not yet.] And you could say we know each other. Though it was a bit different the last time.
[A wave of relief washes over Edward, and he lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The lines of tension in his shoulders ease, and though the guilt doesn't quite leave it's packed away for the moment. Those old issues aren't something he wants to voice with an audience around, and if Greed isn't going to raise a fuss about old wounds there's no point in bringing them up.]
I'd call that the understatement of the damn century.
[Something about Greed's reactions twig something in the back of Ed's mind, little discrepancies that mean something but he can't place to what. He hadn't known Greed for terribly long--the man had a force of personality, but he could still count on one hand the amount of times they'd ever spoken. It was possible that Ed had misjudged Greed's capacity to hold a grudge (or give a shit in general), but for the moment his guilt from the past and nerves about his current situation keep him from thinking too hard on the subject.]
[Ed glances back to Stocke for a moment, checking his reaction to all this, before making his way through the bar over to Greed. He steps over tails and wing-tips, dodges around the patrons with horns and protrusions with faint apologies. A small part of him wonders if this really in inevitable for him as well, what sorts of changes will be inflicted on him. But now he's close enough to Greed he can lower his voice to a more reasonable level, and the sin can see some of the more subtle changes from the Edward he knew. Older, obviously, but in more than just physical age. There's something very tired about Ed underneath his exterior of bravado, a flicker to the flames that burned so brightly behind his eyes before.]
How long have you been here? How are you even alive now?
[Right into the questions, of course, now that Greed hasn't bit his face off or sent him packing right out the door. There's too many mysteries unanswered hanging in the air for Edward to not latch onto a few of them, try and work out just what kind of situation he's landed into. He doesn't much appreciate being shunted into another world all over again; at least last time it had been because of something he chose himself. He's going to find answers, discover a way out of this.]
[And maybe find out what dangers are lying in wait as well. Ed casts a pointed glance at Greed's horn, raising an eyebrow.] Still getting into trouble, too, I see. [Not an accusation, but a sideways expression of worry. What happened, are you alright?]
[Age isn't something he's ever had to worry about. Even in Ryslig, where his usual tricks of the trade have been all but stripped down to the very bone, that much hasn't changed. But Greed's been around a long time; in Amestris, here. The tell-tale signs of burnout are easy enough to pick up on. Even as the tenseness rinses from Ed's shoulders, the former homunculus' eyebrows knit together - throwing lines to his forehead once more.]
[He shouldn't look like that if it all played out right. But he'll get to that later.] Been that long, huh? [Greed says, almost aloft. This close up, some of the fingerprints of his struggle a week before become more noticeable. There's angry rings around his wrist, thick and bulging in scabbed-over scales. Another set peers out from the cuff-neck of his collar, the obvious sign of something hard and metal rubbing against his exposed flesh. It gives the depiction of a choke vice; something to keep him pinned down and out of the way.]
[Greed doesn't mention anything, however.] I've been here a few months now. [September, October. He's never had a need to count the days and he certainly isn't about to start now. The Sin's spine slouches, sending him half-sagging over the pointed jut of his hips.] And that's a good question, but like I've always said -
[His voice simmers in his throat, a new coaxing fire shooting fingers of burnt-orange through the thick, black coating under his chin. They breath with life; with a too-hot heat radiating from deep, deep down. His own proverbial pit.] - there's no such thing as no such thing. Being here is proof of that.
[Still, he watches the Alchemist with a cool expression. Edward Elric has never been a subtle character. Bull-headed and running just as red as his signature color. But now, there's something new. Something different. Something wrong. Greed takes it as a sign and he waves to Stocke, cocking his wrist off with a two finger salute.] Gotta take care of this. Man the bar, hmn? [Whether or not Stocke acknowledges, the Sin has no doubts that the order will be taken care of. The Shade's been nothing short of a right-hand man, an asset worth any trouble.]
[He turns around in a shallow swoop, the angle of his wings following in tow. They open just a tick, shedding plumes of ash that frame in a dreary halo.] Gunna guess you want to do this privately - that right? [Though, the Sin doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he slithers back into the dark recesses. Moving toward the very same iron-clad staircase from whence he came.]
[It's up to the Alchemist whether or not he cares to follow. But Greed doesn't have many doubts about that either.]
[His eyes linger for a moment over the signs of damage, a frown tugging at his lips. The slow healing points to a loss of Greed's homunculus abilities, but why would that be the case? The implication, that Greed had been brought back human before these changes occurred, is one that makes Ed very nervous. He himself is the only truly successful human transmutation he knows of, and that had been 'luck' of circumstance and sheer bull-headed determination. That more than anything made him willing to believe the power of these 'gods', meant that finding a way out of this would take every bit of his stubborn will.]
[Ed lets out a small snort of laughter at Greed's response, shaking his head. It certainly has been a while, hasn't it?] It's been two years since that night for me. A lot has happened since then. [His whole life turned upside down because of one selfish woman that feared death too much, but it's not like he's bitter or anything.]
[Somehow he isn't surprised at Greed's relaxed attitude toward his fate, but...well, he can hardly blame him. Being turned into some kind of monster would hardly be a change of pace for a homunculus, and being given an extra chance at life while he's at it? Probably seems like a dream from that perspective.] And proof I've got a hell of a lot of digging to do if I want to figure this all out.
[He nods at the suggestion, and as Greed retreats back up the stairs Ed follows suit, pausing only to shoot a glance and grateful wave to Stocke before the pair vanish up the stairs. They both have questions that need answers, that much is obvious, and Ed's starting to get an inkling that some of those are ones that neither of them are anticipating. Better to work out just what they're missing where they don't have to worry about eavesdroppers. Even if this isn't home, Ed doesn't exactly feel comfortable chatting about his past where anyone could hear.]
Two years, huh? [And still, not exactly the answer he had been looking for. Another change of a detail: it had been the middle of the day when everything had gone south. When he had made a decision - the first and only lie he ever told in his two hundred years of living. The last curtain call. Greed takes the spiral stairs in a slow stride, the tip of his tail banging softly against the cast-iron rods. The structure is shaky at best; each step quaking with small clumps of dust that float up. Like disturbed moths at the cusp of dawn.]
[No, what Ed has to say points in a different direction. One he's had the misfortune of meeting before: something else, a story not quite right. It doesn't show on his face, not at first - that stead-fast smile gleaming with a sulfur expression. Yellows and reds hum against the backside of his teeth, giving his wicked set a sheen.]
[When he reaches the second floor, it's obvious they still aren't alone. Doors line the corridor and while most of them are shut from intrusion, some are open still. Spilling slivers of milky light out in jagged, sharp cuts. Some occupants flick a glance as they pass, an obvious ease taking their shoulders when they see the demon in question.] Not really much different than before - some things really don't change.
[It's the end of the hallway where Greed stops. The door there is singed, the framed blackened despite some obviously-new handy work. There's more locks bolted across the wood this time around, their fresh copper glowing against Greed's radiating heat. He flips a few with his knuckle rather casually, only pausing when he finally reaches the doorknob. The Sin's slick-black hand disappears into a pocket and something jingles heavily inside. A moment later produces a ring of keys and they hang loosely from a curve of a claw.] No, I'm sure you've got a lot on your mind. But first thing's first -
[One key slides into the lock and Greed twists his wrist. Angry flakes of skin peel away in the haphazard jerk, causing old scabs to open just a tad. The Sin ignores them, however. His attentions far more concerned with present company.]
[And how much he knows, how much is different.]
[The room in question doesn't leave much to the imagination and it's all too clear that he's had company recently. Who or what has been there, that's harder to tell. Fresh claw marks hover over the head of the bed, the wallpaper peeled back and flapping. The furnace lodged into a corner huffs upon is arrival; causing the fire inside to plume and spit against the barred-mouth grate. Greed slips in, leaving the door open for the Alchemist to follow.]
[A fresh tumbler of scotch rests open on a nightstand, its glass stopper resting horizontally beside. Half the contents are gone by now and Greed's fingers wrap around the neck of it. Making the tips of his talons shiver across the surface, tuning it to a hum. He's not about to waste time - he's never been the sort.]
What do you remember, exactly? [And it's straight to business.]
[He doesn't have much to say as Greed leads the way back to his room, past the doors both open and closed leading to others' personal sanctums. He tries not to peer in curiously to those they pass, but a few glances are stolen despite himself. Feathers and extra eyes, and a sense of tension that is impossible to miss. It puts a grim line to Ed's mouth, concerned and worried both for himself and the other poor souls dragged into this world. Greed's commentary on the changes (or rather, the lack thereof) brings a huff of laughter out of Edward--he couldn't imagine the sin being comfortable anywhere other than a place like this. Despite the shady nature of the Nest, even an outsider like him could feel the sense of community here, a safe place carved out of the rough edges of society.]
[Another concerned frown is cast at that flaking wound, but there's no vocal comment. Instead he simply nods and steps inside on Greed's invitation before taking a glance around the room. The claw marks above the bed bring a brief, pink tinge to Edward's cheeks before he averts his eyes, bringing his focus back onto Greed. His eyes spark with a hint of interest when he spies the scotch, but there's more important things to address first. The question, and especially the phrasing just confirm what he's started to suspect. There's a disconnect between their histories, though one much more subtle than has happened before.]
What I remember? [Ed leans against the wall, sighing as he does. How much detail would he need to give? Where did the change in history lie between them? For now he starts with what was most recent; as they exchanged more, the full story could be told.] Well, last I saw you was when you'd gone back to Dante's mansion, and I found you there and her old body nearly cut in half. I assumed what seemed obvious, got pissed, and we fought. I didn't know she had started to seal you before I'd showed up, and you explained how to do it after I landed the killing blow. [His guilt and grief resurface for a moment before he shoves it back again, too stubborn and scared to really address it.] ...I hadn't expected you to fucking die like that.
[A deep breath before Edward cocks his head slightly, raising an eyebrow to Greed.] But I'm guessing that's not what happened for you, right? Something's different here.
[A familiar problem, one he's been living with quite intimately for the past two years. Even before he'd found Alfons studying with Oberth, he would too often catch sight of a familiar face that didn't really belong to his memories. People he'd met in passing, those he'd lost...seeing Hughes again had nearly stopped his heart where he stood. But then it had only been faces that had remained the same--they hadn't remembered him, or known anything of Amestris or his long string of adventures.]
[Out of the thick dark, Greed's tail wafts into view. It cuts a sharp line in its lofty sway and the metal arrangements clasped against the thick chord steal from the lighting. Washing the silver pieces in bright a sheen of neon reds and hell fire. His nail slips easily into the open mouth of the canter, skittering on the inside to draw a line or two. He moves with a sense of easy; like oil slowly circling the drain. One heel skates over the other in a practiced motion, sending hard-knocking thumps rattling through the floorboards. All the while, the furnace keeps a steady smolder between the beats - spraying sizzling snaps and crackles as old wood slowly roasts on a dying flame.]
[But as soon as the Alchemist begins his story, everything seems to slam on the brakes.]
[Greed suddenly stills, the claw inside catching in a high-pitched trill. His shoulders stiffen, his tail jerks to a stop. As if suddenly, all the cogs weren't working - all the gears had locked up tight. It lasts for a while and the foggy noise from the bar below meets the quiet's call; drifting muted conversation through the slit floorboards.]
[Then his head snaps back, his bones crunch. And an erupting laughter cracks through the lull.]
[It lasts for a while, that boom. Enough to rattle the canter in hand and fresh fire churns in his throat. Sending a cough of blackened smoke to meet the ceiling in a filthy, sooty overhang. When he finally tappers off, a few fresh-caught embers spark off his tongue.] Ha - ! No, you've got it all wrong. You never killed me. [The Sin finds his footing again, cutting an uneven line across the room. The canter finds a home on a table closer to the bed and he relieves himself of it with haphazard abandon.] And I don't know anyone named Dante.
[The tip of his tail slithers across the floor between their conversation, the barbed edge easing behind the handle. A jerk of his hip sends the door wide open and the fire inside is angry, yet warm. Far too hot, yet oddly inviting. Greed tilts his head to the side and his sunglasses boil with the afterglow. In an orange-pitch that's a little closer to gold than anything else.]
[But what Ed has to say leads to one thing for both parties: a suspicion confirmed. Their stories don't match, their histories are different. It isn't the first time he's experienced the discrepancies, but those had been mild. Small little details lost for whatever reason. This? Oh, this is just so much more.]
[And for avarice incarnate, well.] I'm going to guess the name Ling doesn't ring a bell either, does it? [With his back Ed, Greed traces the side of his drink. While it might not be seen, it's far easier to hear: that slick grin, poised tooth for tooth in a deadly set. He raps his knuckle once again the side of the glass, humming.] No, it's not. Good ol'Daddy sir - and you're not the first I've run across with a different story. Seems to me you and I have a lot to talk about, don't we?
[He doesn't even ask, nor does he imply that he'll have it any other way. A force to be reckoned with, though Greed doesn't have any ill intentions. Instead, two glasses appear from a drawer. Slipped up and clipped together by the brims. He sloshes a healthy serving in one, topping off the next with a little less. Then the canter's gone and he finally turns to face the other.] First thing's first -
[He holds out one glass for the other, his grin wide. Whether or not the gesture is sincere, it's hard to tell.]
[Ed's breath catches in his throat when Greed freezes, the both of them caught if a momentary tableau. It's hard to not be nervous, considering what he'd just admitted to; Greed would be well within reason to distrust Edward right then and there, no matter what his relationship with the Ed of his home had been like. Hell, he might even chase him back out, or worse--Ed isn't sure he'd be able to get out of this bar unscathed if Greed made the call.]
[But Greed bursts out in fiery laughter and he sighs in relief with a faint chuckle. Maybe an odd thing to take comfort in, given the sin's (disturbingly appropriate) demonic appearance; someone else might have been intimidated by a display like this, but Ed has seen far worse demons that wore a kinder face. No, Greed isn't someone he needs to fear. Not right now, at least.]
[The explanations of the differences--those bring a faint frown, though one born of confusion rather than upset. If Dante wasn't still around, did that mean the homunculii were truly acting on their own devices? Or had someone else stepped in to fill those shoes?]
[He shrugs the heavy overcoat off as the boiler spills even more heat into the room. Obviously this must be comfortable for Greed, but a mere human is likely to sweat through his shirt if he keeps that warm layer on in here.] I can't say I've ever met a Ling before. Who are they? [They must be a friend for Greed to have brought them up. Someone that worked with and helped them both, maybe? And that second part, about 'Good ol'Daddy'...that's rather worrying.] Wait, you're not talking about Hohenheim, are you?
[Ed doesn't protest the unspoken insistence of information; he's just as eager to know where the differences lie, what that might mean. He steps away from the wall and over to Greed, accepting the glass with a grin and nod.] Who's the other person you met, though? Someone I might know?
[The furnace is fed another chunk of wood before it's closed off again. With a whip-lash movement and the bolt slides into place with a click. Greed's claws frame the lip of his glass, the curved points etching and scratching as he does. It should surprise him, what the Alchemist has to say. But things being as they are, well - ] You really don't know, do you?
[A chaste grin sweeps his face, igniting like a freshly-stroked match. The noise from below still chimes through; in a garbled, drowned mess.] I imagine he's the emperor of Xing now, if you and yours took the opportunity. [The glass hits his lips and he takes no time draining it. The liquor goes down, hissing all the way as it travels and sparks in his gullet. The thin veins on his throat expand as he does and he's thirsty. Oh, is he thirsty. As scotch tumbles in wave after wave. Until only mere sheen is left at the bottom of the glass. When he's finished, a lofty sigh escapes him and his thumb chases the dip of his chin. Effectively cleaning away anything he's lost.] Ha - ! No, not Hohenheim. But you could say they were one in the same. Daddy sir - the one who made us. I guess that's another thing that's different between you and I.
[The glass finds a home next to the canter and Greed slowly closes the gap. He walks like he should - a kin to the other set of six and while he considers himself different than the rest, there are some things that remain the same. A predator by design, he slouches when he walks. Bringing his wings up just so.] Maybe. There's another alchemist here who said he's worked for me before. But I've never had one, least not before - [Ah, right. The Sin's chin sinks and one wrist turns outward. Sending out a five-claw sprawl.] - Kimbley. But the one I know of was working with the others, not for me.
[He stops mere inches from Ed, his body far too close for comfort. A heat hovers around him, coming off in waves that are both inviting and deadly. A tilt forward has him eye to eye with the other and for a split second, a wicked light shines through his shades. Humming red to make that sinister-cat look appear from the too-dark color of his sunglasses. Like a form fogging into a mirror, it's dreary and haunting.] He has another one with him. Some guy named Archer. And that Colonel of yours too, but it looks like he's no longer here.
So - [Greed purrs, his voice causing a fresh shudder of ash to quake and shiver under his throat.] - what's your story?
[He takes a sip of his own glass, intending to let it last. He doesn't often get anything better than the cheap stuff at the beerhouse; most of the budget was eaten up just paying Frau Gracia and putting food on the table in Munich. For him, a drink like this is a damned luxury.]
[Listening to Greed, Edward's eyebrows raise up at the description. An emperor, huh?] Well, damn. What'd I do to get involved with royalty of all things? [And a clarification that really isn't one--what did he mean by 'one and the same'? How could there be two of him, this wasn't some kid's story where a magic spell split a person apart. The more Greed explains, the stranger this all seems.]
[As Greed continues, Edward feels a cold lump settle in his stomach.] Roy was here? [Kimbley he already knew about, and Archer, while an unwelcome addition, somehow doesn't surprise him. But Roy he actually gave a shit about, and damn well shouldn't be stuck here away from the country he intended to serve. Gone could mean that he'd been pulled back home somehow, but what could that mean? What if he'd changed before he was brought back to Amestris? There was no reason to think the transformation would simply go away when you left this world--what would happen to him? And even worse, what if 'gone' meant something else, something that made Ed's stomach twist up in grief?]
[His back goes a little stiff as Greed closes in, but he doesn't back away. The heat rolls off of the demon and seems to pool around Ed, making a small bead of sweat slide down his hairline. He's well aware of Greed's body language, the unconscious way he exudes just who and what he is. The changes only accentuate it, and while Ed isn't afraid of Greed it still triggers that animal hindbrain instinct, the feeling of threat and danger. But Edward doesn't give into it, refuses--his stubborn pride and what's left of his youthful idiocy quelling the nervous feeling in his chest. He meets Greed's eyes with a look nearing defiance, not showing a lick of intimidation.]
[Instead a smirk spreads across his face, and he lifts the glass to take another sip before replying.] Where do you want me to start?
[It's the first time since their initial conversation that the Alchemist flashes an ol'familiar look. A determination that glitters like gold, that comes to challenge him with each step he takes. He's seen the expression before - in Dublith, before. Edward Elric has never been the shy sort and when it finally comes to pass, the Sin meets the look head on. His head lowers just to a tad closer as he does, inspecting with a pursed kind of interest. Whatever has happened to the elder Elric, at least this?]
[It's known territory.] Wasn't really around when you two met, sorry. [What he means, he won't elaborate. But the insinuation is there - hidden just under the surface, the fine print in a nasty contract. Greed's thumbs slip through the belt loops on his pants, allowing his claws to spread. Like a spider feeling out its surroundings, his knuckles bend, the tips skitter. Tap-tap-tapping off the sides of his thighs in a rhythmic procession.] He was. Didn't really have much to say, really. I only saw him once or twice. But then again, he mostly stayed in Bavan. Tends to be the destination for most when they get here. [Which is an implication all in itself - that Bavan has something more to offer. A sense of normalcy, structure.]
[It should be no wonder why the cardinal Sin in question chose the latter. Vandare's far more similar to Dublith. A lower point with plenty of places to crawl and slither into.]
[Greed knocks back his heel, swaying the dramatic tip of his boot up and out.] Why don't you tell me exactly what you remember. And in exchange - [The age-old mantra. He holds it out, baiting his words with a shallow purr that spits the charcoal-slick at his throat once more. Gold coaxes, bringing a loathsome glow to highlight the under part of his chin. He shifts his weight, teetering to the side in a half-drawn semi circle as he rounds the other. Like this, he's got the look of a vulture on the prowl. Circling and circling for the right opportunity.] - I'll tell you what I know. Equivalent exchange, right? [The length of his tail trails behind him, brushing across the floor in a wide sweep. The barbed end flicks casually in the process, swaying in the same molasses-slow motion that's both deceptive and entirely him.]
[There are certain things about Edward Elric that no amount of travesty or trauma could stamp out, core parts of his self and identiy that simply would not die out. That stubborn streak that always shone thorugh, though now somewhat tempered by age and wisdom. Not that it changed much; only that he paused a few moments to judge how fast he needed to run to break thorugh the barriers before him. It bolstered him, kept him from backing away when others would have given up or turned tail. Really, he'd say it would be the death of him if he hadn't died once before already.]
["Not around", huh? Something about the way Greed says that catches his attention, and he files it way in his mind. Whether a reference to a death, a capture...it could simply mean that he didn't know and had never been told, but he won't take that for granted. Occam's Razor is useful, but not always correct.] It's less rural, I'll grant that. Do you have any idea what happened to Roy? [There's a big difference between 'got on the bad side of the locals' and 'just fell off the face of the earth'. ...well, in theory. The first presumably leaves a body behind, at least.] How often to people go missing like that?
["Equivalent Exchange"...Edward laughs and grins, not turning but still keeping his eyes on Greed as he stalks around him. His posture stays easy, relaxed. Confident in himself not fearing the fire that licks behind Greed's words.] Yeah, I'd call that a fair trade. A story for a story, I'll accept that. [Funny, that he found himself again being plied for information in the Devil's Nest. For a moment he wonders if that meeting went as disastrously in the other world as it did in his.] If I was in the military, I assume I must have tried to bring my mother back and gotten Al stuck in that armor in your world as well.
[Ed ponders for a moment, taking another generous sip as he thinks over where to start his story. Greed likely wouldn't be interested in the years chasing false leads and being Roy's errand boy, and Nina's story isn't one he feels up to retelling...] I was fifteen when Roy clued me into where Marcoh had been holed up. He was one of the alchemists that created the incomplete Stones used in Ishbal to end the war, ran off with the research from Labratory Five after he saw the destruction he'd helped bring. The Colonel had been covering for him, but apparently something had leaked since Scar nearly beat me to finding him. There was a bit of a scuffle, obviously, [He nearly died, his arm destroyed and Al nearly blown apart,] but Marcoh was able to give us enough of a hint to find Labratory Five. The place was still running, and that was the first time we ran into any of the homunculii.
[He grimaces as he remembers that whole mess.] It was Envy, Lust, and Gluttony. They captured Al, tried to get me to make the Stone for them there. It...I couldn't do it, not once I knew they had living humans and not just material needing to be refined. The whole place started coming down around our ears--we got out, and I found out later you broke out Martel and the rest of your crew before the military came swarming in to clean up what was left.
[The Sin swings back in front of the other, his body easing over the juts of his hips. He shoots a side glance, showing off that needle-prick gaze. Reptilian, raw and then it's gone again. As he skirts the iron frame of the bed like a shark in shallow waters.] The theory is that they go home. That is, if they aren't on the network anymore. Whether or not that's true, I couldn't really tell ya, kid. But it seems to be the most likely option. It doesn't happen to often, but I've had a few go missing since I've been here.
[Beatrice, Aoba, Peter - just a few he can count on one hand. Greed's fingers peel open, flicking wide claw after claw. The proverbial feline counting its inventory. While some of the changes have been dramatic, others hark to his original making. The black coating of scales trills up his arm in jagged, uneven rectangles - his claws are coiled and sharp. The pattern salutes back to that 'Shield of his. Reaching up, up, up. But unlike before, veins of lava froth under the surface. And on his left hand, they converge. Forming like a fresh-fire brand in an old, familiar design:]
[The Ouroboros. A tell of what he is, what he used to be. Constantly running to consume itself.]
That's right - least that much hasn't changed. Word traveled fast to Dublith after you and yours ran into that serial killer in Central. Scar, right? [The Sin chimes back in, his voice still as sultry-slick as always despite current circumstances. There were some similarities to their stories. Lab 5 still existed and while Greed had seen it only once or twice in his long-time running, he knows others that had been far more familiar. His would-be kin most obviously, his chimeras second. Greed turns his wrists as his walks, hovering the tips of his nails thoughtfully over the collection of things stockpiled in his room. He pauses when Ed continues his story, the length of his back exposing in a long, drawn-out shrug.]
I don't know if that happened where I'm from. Daddy sir had other plans in mind. [A venomous note rattles in his voice; similar to a python singing its finale to slowly-gasping prey. His hand jerks up wildly, illustrating his point.] Five sacrifices. He wanted to gain the power of God. Ha - !
[Another bark of laughter coughs from his gullet, mimicking a back-firing exhaust. He carefully pockets his hands, his skull tilting in the direction of a half-boarded window. Bits of still-burning cinders flutter through the cracks. Carried off in burly billow of smoke that quickly thins once the outside breeze catches. He lulls his head idly to his shoulder, calling up fur to frame and trace his jawline.]
I broke them out, that's true. But that was long before you came along. Eh- guess it doesn't matter, hmn? [A soft twinkle sounds off. As the tip of his tail comes dangerously-close to Ed, the barbed-charmed end rising up from the floor. It glides over the Alchemist's shoulders for a brief flick, a little inspection. Before it tosses gently, taking the momentum to sink back into the murky top-layer hovering across the floor.]
From what I've heard, the homunculi you know were a bit different too - me and mine were never human to begin with. [The Sin croons at nothing in particular as he reaches through parting smoke for the canter again. The tips of his claws wrap the neck one by one, lifting it with a shivering-shrill. It hangs between his knuckles, the smooth sides rubbing against one of his leather-clad thighs.]
That and I've died twice from where I'm from. And not the kind we usually come back from.
[While it's not the worst news he could hear, it's not the best either, and Ed nods with a grim frown. Of course there would be no way to know, not with some knowledge of how the transfer between worlds was accomplished here, but it's still disappointing. There was so little to go on, to figure out the mysteries of this place.]
[His eye is caught by the flicking of claws, the sparks that light and drift to the floor on invisible currents of air. The glow on the back of Greed's hand is both alien and entirely familiar, and Ed is honestly surprised how much confort he takes in it. After being alone for so long in a strange world, one that thought his past was nothing more than an overactive imagination at best and insanity at worse, it was reassuring to speak with someone that acknowledged his memories as real. Sure, the source wasn't ideal, but he wasn't about to shove his head into that horse's mouth.]
Yeah, that's him. You and yours leapt onto me and Al pretty quick once we were in Dublith. The military returned the favor, unfortunately, but I wasn't directly involved in any of that. [Honestly, Ed had started to become very disillusioned with his government at that point. The list of people we was willing to trust had dwindled very quickly to barely enough to fit on two hands, and he hadn't exactly had many close friends in the first place.]
[With Greed's second response, he nearly chokes taking a sip of his scotch. There's a few seconds of coughing and sputtering before he actually finds his voice again.] The power of--he wanted to control the Gate?! [That was--insane! Ludicrous! The thing was a force of nature, it would have laughed off anyone dumb enough to try a stunt like that! And 'five sacrifices'--there's obviously more to this plan, but it's still crazy! Even five Stones wouldn't be enough to buy that sort of power from the thing!] What the hell was he on that he thought he could pull that off?
Not int he long run, I suppose-- [Edward goes still at the sound of the faint chime, watching Greed's tail coil around his shoulders with a combined sense of concern and fascination. He's not quite sure what to make of the gesture but it sends a faint shiver down his back regardless, a feeling he can't quite place squeezing his chest before the black-and-silver whip drifts back down to the floor.]
[Ed swallows and shakes his head to clear the odd thoughts before he replies to the rest.] So you were created to be entirely yourselves... [It explained the differences, certainly, though it made the resemblance more confusing. It wasn't perfect--he remembered the Greed of his world being taller, for one--but still enough to make him wonder what link there was to leave the similarities there were.] Twice? So when you die for good there's still something to--to be salvaged? [He hates having to put it that way, but there isn't really a kind way to put it when you get right down to it.]
Sort of, but then again - I've always considered myself a bit different than the rest. [The glass container sways in his knuckles like a pendulum on the back swing and just as coppery. Scotch sloshes, trapped inside for the time being. It can only protest in shallow ploops and pops; as Greed's lumbering movements take liquor for a crash-course against the smooth, clear inside curve.]
[As he walks, burning prints sizzle behind him. The dim of smoke now finally dwindling, they're easier to see. They form in the same shape as the back of his heels and boiling rubber leaves behind bubbly, ashy remnants branded hard into the wood floor. Like setting tar on a hot summer day. Despite that, the structure of his signature pair still holds. Wafting in a low-set, shimmering mirage.]
[He chases a grin over his shoulder once he's swept the room a second time, eyeing the Alchemist through the crisp white fur at his collar. And if his eyes are trailing, if there's inspection there?]
[It's merely only that of stagnant interest. Connecting where the dots remain similar and when others spin off in another direction entirely. Same image, same Edward Elric; just with some added or missing details.] Ha - ! You really never were very subtle. [The former homunculus slips back into conversation as easily as a piranha momentarily knocked from a feeding frenzy. Out on moment, back into the fray the next. He steals from the bottle again and scotch catches in his throat. Turning a gassy, feverish blue that's both ghostly and foreign. Orange banks to the call not too soon later and the colors fight for dominance under the thin later of sooty skin. Then it's gone again and the Sin shoves his wrist across his mouth, crudely cleaning his lip clean.] Ah- now, that really depends. It takes a lot more than usual to kill us - I'm sure the same was for yours, that right?
[The charm on the bottle squeals when Greed tosses it back onto the dresser. The chain holding it together does a ring-a-round the neck, spinning for a few short beats. But a quick-dart fling of a claw stops it, the movement fast and on target. And metal twirls around the curve of his finger, slipping across it like liquidized gold.] He knew how to make it quick and how to make sure it wasn't entirely a waste. Purification - [He bends towards the bottle and the reflection back is nothing more than a glowing smog of smoke. Until his lips pull wide and a sheen of dagger-sharp white moves aimlessly across the surface. Intangible, but still there; a muddled mix between the rounded, formed canter.] - didn't last as long as he wanted it to, though.
A Philosopher's stone - [The tips of his claws skate a retreat and he motions to his chest. Half tilted away from the Alchemist, yet still very much in view - he runs his nails across his sternum, drawing lines back a little lower to where a human heart would be. Locked behind a cage of ribs and oh, isn't it just avarice to keep something so precious so well hidden.] - not that it matters now, but each one of us had one. If you could purify it without using all the souls up, it's possible we can be salvaged.
[He pauses, rolling the fork of his tongue against the back of his teeth.] Of course, none of the others really had the chance.
[It's hard not to notice what the thinning smoke reveals on the floor, and Ed makes a doubletake whe he sees the marks left and connects the impossibility of it. It's strange and uncanny, makes no sense at all. But there's no time at the moment to address the damaged floor, or wonder just how Greed hasn't burned this place down yet just by existing. The supernatural wonders of this peninsula just don't ever stop, do they? Edward's eyes flick back up to Greed's and he quickly hides his shock, taking a much longer sip of his drink this time.]
[Greed had damned well better be sharing more than just a glass of this stuff, he is gonna need it.]
Never saw much of a point to being subtle. [He notes the examination, the interest, but given that he's paying just as much attention to Greed himself he doesn't complain. They're both curious, both wanting to know more about the other, the differences from the version they know. Already Edward has a far longer list of differences than simiarities, but given the wildly different origins that's not particularly surprising.] Yeah. You could burn through all their Stones if you were suicidal, but Dante knew an array that could force them out. Me and my bastard of a father are probably the only two left that know it.
[Edward's eyebrows lift higher and higher as Greed explains, and he lets out a low whistle between his teeth. Damn, but that's fucked up.] I can't imagine you were happy once you got those memories back. Hope you gave him hell. [He shakes his head, draining the rest of the glass in a quick gulp and grimace.] I never got a chance to look at her notes or anything, but I know Dante was able to do something a bit more...extreme. She just took everything except the hunger out of Gluttony, left him basically mindless.
[He cocks his head and raises an eyebrow with a faint smirk.] In case it isn't obvious, she was the one playing puppeteer in my world. Her plans were a bit more modest than this 'Father' of yours, though. [He has a feeling Greed would approve of her end goal, at least. Crazy bastard.]
[He plugs the canter again, forcing the rounded stopper in with a shove of a heel and a twist. It spins, clicks then stops - in a short grind of singing glass and sloshing liquor. Greed inspects it with a curious claw, shining his red-purple glance to the contents before slipping back to Ed again. He offers it in close proximity, the butt-end of the container swinging against the Alchemist's chest.] No, not really much of a point. After all, I've never been one to hold back either. [The tips of his fingers leave and a knowing kind of smile passes from him to the other. As if he's examining the fine print, as if both of them know exactly what it says:]
[It doesn't matter where they come from, what they've seen. The words are the same:]
["We have history, don't we."]
[Greed chases a grin towards the closed door, a slight whistle churning at the tips of his teeth. To have one stone was normal, to have multiple - ] Oh-? Sounds like she wasn't exactly very friendly. From what I know, that Dad of yours knew plenty. But he wasn't working against you where I'm from. [It's an educated guess; the way the other talks with venom waiting on his tongue. Greed sways at Ed's side, cross-stepping over the sways of his boots as he tilts, twists and churns. He moves like a viper; rolling his torso, his spine. The folded wings at his back peel away, rising up and above them like a leathery umbrella complete with red-hot veins and trembling ash.]
[When Ed continues, the Sin's smile tightens for just a second. Giving them hell - ] No, I can't deny that. Though the little pissant Prince took advantage after. Not that it did much good. [Vague, but enough to get his point across. There are some roads he's not interested in traveling and this? Well, it's just one of those forks. He'd rather take the other option.] Sounds like they were similar, but not quite the same. Good ol'Daddy sir couldn't do something like that.
[The jagged hooks at the top of his wings skitter across the ceiling, drawing more lines into already-peeling paint. Small scars burn in pitches of charcoal, sketched out in warm lines that quickly cool with the late-night breeze.] So - do you plan on staying here? It's the same deal as before - you'd be working for me, but I'm not about to deny you. And I'm sure you already know how this works, hmn?
[Ed blinks and looks down in surprise when Greed presses the bottle to his chest, one hand wrapping around the bottle automatically. He's surprised, at first, but it fades when his eyes flicker back up. Ed can read that look easily, without even thinking. It's met with a nod and smile of his own, a silent understanding. Even with the details muddled, they can read between eachother's lines, know what isn't being said.]
[Smaller ones, admittedly. False stones, really, incomplete and unrefined. But they were still Stones, and fueled the homunculii's abilities just the same. Ed snorts as he moves to pour another glass, stepping over to a small table to set the glass down onto.] Oh, hardly. And the old man wasn't really working against us, either, but he didn't help all that much. [Probably out of muddled guilt for past sins, if Edward is honest with himself. Doesn't stop him from being bitter about it, though.] I got the feeling she hadn't ever done it before, the way Envy reacted. Only time I ever saw the bastard scared of something.
[He should be on edge from Greed's posturing, the way he moves around him like a hungry shark closing in on a wounded seal. Any normal person would have found some excuse and fled the room before they were eaten alive, but the thought doesn't even occur to Ed. It's shady and threatening, sure, but he doesn't feel trapped. The wings stretching around him, the pulsing so-faint glow and smell of burning, it just earns an easy grin as he watches Greed's constant flow of movement. For all the oddities, it's not that hard to understand what Greed is about.] Seems like that's the theme with us, huh? Just similar enough we can get the idea, but the rest... [He makes a vague gesture as he pours out another serving, golden liquid spilling and swirling around itself.]
[The offer makes him pause, glance over to Greed with a contemplative look. Certainly he'd come into the Nest with the idea of signing on, but actually going through with it...that was another story. He knew what it meant for him, the kind of road he would be going down. Greed is good people, but he isn't nice by any stretch of the imagination. Ed isn't stupid, though--he'd be safe here, especially once the changes he's been dreading start setting in. And he knows Greed--moreover, Greed knows Edward. He knows the world he's from, and that is something that Ed has been starved for the past year and a half.] I was thinking about it. You sure you won't regret taking me on?
[It's no secret that there's bad blood between him and the rest. And while Envy isn't the top of his list, he's a close second. Greed's lips pull back with a ferocious kind of sneer - one similar to the same Great White on Ed's mind. Ready under the surface and about to let loose on an unsuspecting seal. His claws circle the small of his torso, anchoring into his hip bones in small scratches that bring a whine from both the leather of his slacks and the mesh shirt hugging his skin like a glove.] Envy, huh. That doesn't surprise me - ugly's always been predictable. But he's the same cobbled-together mess as always.
[The venom in his words rides on thick trails of smoke and steam. Behind him, in a smog of silt, the bend of his tail rises again. Waving back and forth, a pendulum of hard spikes and steel. The corners of the Sin's eyes twitch with a sort of tenseness. As if he means to pounce, as if he could set his teeth right in and oh, isn't it just the big, bad wolf that's strolled into town.]
[But the Alchemist knows, he knows: the look is saved for someone else entirely.]
[The former homunculus tosses one hand out wildly, the ravenous expression cast aside. The bands on his wrist twist and chime; throwing and spinning across the smooth-plated skin of his forearm.] Seems like it. There's a few things I still don't know much about. Kimbley for instance - [Though that seems to be a moot point. What happened to that particular time bomb and his other self: it isn't his story and truth be told, he doesn't entirely care. As long as the destructive-prone Alchemist doesn't try anything, it's water under a bridge Greed's never had the luxury of crossing.]
[The thought passes, though. And a wild look of surprise makes the Sin rise. As if jolted, his mouth hangs open with a held out: "Ah-?". Before his torso all but snaps over his spine and those wings of his explode outwards with his laughter. His head tosses over the fur at his collar and the billow of his baritone once again rattles the walls. Shakes the floor. Then he's back again with jarring quickness, the span of his wings enclosing over Ed like hellish arms coming on to smother. He curls in on the Alchemist, leering far too close for comfort.] Regret taking you on? Usually that's my line kid - working for me means you wouldn't belong to the normal world anymore. No regrets - [The curve of his horns come so close to Ed's own forward that they almost touch. They're a hair-length away, heavy-set coils packed to the brim with hell fire. And from behind his sunglasses, his eyes are watching. Eerily still, like the hollow sockets of a corpse.]
- and you'd be one of mine. So I'll ask again - are you in or not?
He had a one track mind, that's for fucking certain. [Edward resists the urge to correct Greed--even hating the man as he does, he wouldn't call anything his father created 'cobbled-together'--instead taking a very, very private comfort in Greed's reaction and hiding his relieved look behind a fresh swig of the whiskey. He has no intention of telling Greed about what Envy did to him, the blood they share. That's too personal, too close to wounds that still haven't healed. But it looks like he won't need to bother with that should the bastard ever show his face around here.]
[Not that he would be hiding behind the sin or anything, but having backup for a fight never hurt anyone.]
[A frown pulls at his mouth again when Greed mentions Kimbley, eyes narrowing in a smoldering fury held beneath the surface.] I don't know as much about his history with you, only that he went running off to the military as soon as he had the chance. [And the small matter of him turning Alphonse into a ticking time bomb, but this version doesn't seem to have done that yet. Besides, that's not something Greed would necessarily be concerned with, and so long as his little brother doesn't show up it will have to remain a non-issue.]
[When Greed straightens up, for a moment Ed wonders if he said the wrong thing. And then the bellowing laugh, the shaking timber above raining old soot and ashes on their heads shakes any other thought out of his head. Edward's spine snaps ramrod straight when the demon closes back in, all fire and claws and raw intimidation that sets every one of the alarms in his head blaring. But he doesn't back off, staring right back into that burning gaze and baring his teeth in a fierce grin even as beads of sweat roll down his head from the oven-like heat. His pulse beats a swift tempo in his ears, and a few hairs singe away as they brush against the horns that threaten to blister Ed's forehead.]
I haven't belonged to any world in a damn long time. Yeah, I'll take your deal, Greed.
[The news about Kimbley isn't at all surprising; he's been dog-tailing his boy-in-blue for however long they've been here. Archer - the name doesn't ring any bells and the Sin doesn't expect it ever truly will. Another piece of the puzzle that doesn't belong to his metaphorical box. His eyelids fall heavy behind his sunglasses, causing slivers of red to cut through his sunglasses. Movement flickers slowly behind them, running like the receding tail-lights of a crawling vehicle. He's watching the sweat roll away. As beads of it tremble up from Ed's skin - like water shook to the surface by some force.]
[As expected, the Alchemist doesn't back down. Not even when instinct makes his spine taut like a wire. The Sin pockets one hand and the other shoots out at an index. He taps his company's shoulder with a terrible grin, amusement laced under fire.] Ha - ! Fine then, just remember -
[He backs away then and a good breeze runs in swiftly. Extending itself across the Alchemist like someone shoving between, spreading themselves to protect the other against another onslaught. Greed's arm falls slack back to his side, the murky thick of his own after-burn now nothing more than dim twinkles of dust. He slaps his foot down as an afterthought and the tail behind him cracks with an interest.] - you'd be working for me. [As he talks, his tail relaxes and the arrow-tipped point sinks into a dresser, pulling out one of the drawers. He doesn't need to see it to know it's there - a key ring. And while it's lost some weight since he first started, there's still pieces of iron left dangling on the line. The end of his tail slips through the circlet of metal, bringing it up and out of the proverbial abyss in a harmony of soft, haunting chimes.]
[He immediately deposits it in the open stretch of his hand.] Yours is down the hall. [The Sin replies and his thumb nail presses into the ring, popping out one solid key. It's a bit smaller than the rest, its teeth crooked and flaked-over in rust damage. Pockets of gnarled metal drill themselves into the base, making it look particularly old. He tosses it to Ed.] I'm sure I don't have to explain how the rest of this works, do I?
[The rush of cool air where there had just seconds ago been a sweltering heat left Edward light-headed for a moment. He blinks twice and breathes out a long, slow breath he hadn't even realize he'd held--well, he'd certainly stuck his foot in it now, hadn't he? Ed hadn't lied about regretting this choice, but this road wasn't going to be a nice one. Entertaining, probably, but not nice.]
[His eyes stay locked with the sin's own for several moments before he remembers the glass still in his hand. With another sigh he knocks it back, draining the half-filled glass with a grimace before setting it back down. The bottle he keeps hold of, carefully stoppered back up for later and held close to the chest. His eyes follow Greed's movements, note the keyring with interest.]
Even if I didn't, you wouldn't let me forget, would you? [No, he knows who has the proverbial leash on his new collar, who it is he answers to now. Oddly it doesn't chafe as much as the old, not yet, but then the bargain has only just been struck. There's still plenty of time for the friction to build. No sense in inviting any of it sooner than needed.]
[When the key is tossed his way he snatches it out of the air easily, and he looks it over for a moment while Greed talks. Old, broken, but still useable...there should be a joke about fitting locks here, but he can't think of it. Gold eyes flick back up, and Ed smirks as he pockets the key.] Nah, I think I got it from here.
[He turns and heads back to the door, taking that as a dismissal for the moment. He pauses before opening it though, looking at the demon with an honest, real smile.] Thanks.
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graveyardsmash2015-05-23 05:28 pm
and the incoming disaster
[Inside, it's still quiet. But it's also business as usual. A few lingering cast a look up at Stocke when the door slides open, the glance quick at first. As if they're waiting for something else, as if history has taught them that an open door is something more to fear. However, that fear subsides - a relief washes in. Stocke's a familiar face around here and that's more than enough to put some an ease.]
[For a moment or two, there's no answer. Only the soft tolling of glasses, the lazy rush of a tap. A smokey film drifts dreamily at the ceiling; as old tobacco and new find themselves interlaced in an intricate pattern of silvery-blue.]
[Then the boiler belches, a fire ignites, and a rolling baritone hisses from above. The staircase out back protests and shakes. Each step hitting sounding off like a gunshot.] Oh-? [Greed's voice hums through, his words tuning in a trill. As he coils and clips down the spiral staircase, the signature swoop of his boots showing before he has a chance to.]
[There are a few that know him - from Dublith, from after. He takes his time, waiting out the seconds in a slow-moving trawl that's entirely him. An easy kind of demeanor that's slippery at best. Both hands are shoved into his pockets once he hits the bottom floor and a wash of wicked color follows him; like a candle burning in the dark, the light spews out across the floor in a sooty haze. Greed lifts his head, showing off his wide-toothed grin.] Word has it there's a few new ones in town - it's not impossible.
[The two sets of horns protruding from his skull have somewhat healed in the aftermath following Rota. The one set on the left side of his forehead is a little smaller than the rest, the new links and chunks fresh - it isn't as blackened as the other three. Greed doesn't pay it much mind, though. Everything aside, they lucked out a bit better than most.]
[He pauses near the side entrance to the bar, his heel snapping back against the wood. In his movement, those shades of his glimmer. The muted-red glow from beneath peels at the frames - causing the color to race across silver and chrome.] So - what do you have for me, hmn?
let me know if I messed up any details!
[He hides a grimace at the gesturing tendril (he knows it's hardly Stocke's fault, but cripes), and steps into the bar cautiously. He only ever saw the original Devil's Nest once, but this place is similar enough to ring with familiarity in his mind. The clientele certainly brings a shock (is that a spider-person over there?!), but his attention is drawn quickly to those ringing steps, the too-familiar boots that lead the descend of the homunculus into view.]
[Edward's eyes go wide as he takes in the changes, both physical and less-than-so. Good fucking god, is the man on fire? And the horns, wings and tail; it's almost too surreal, seeing Greed so very different and yet...still oddly himself. He doesn't miss the healing damage, another piece of that puzzle of recent events, but for now he sets that fact aside. Catching up on just what went down here still might well not even happen, once Greed realizes who it is that's come calling.]
You really are here!
[He strides several steps further into the bar before he stops short, his expression a mix of guilt and relief. What should he even say right now? 'I'm sorry I killed you?' 'It sucks you're some demonic-type freak, but at least you're alive again?' Is there anything he could say, after what happened?]
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Stocke is totally doing it on purpose and you know itor rather, the shade's used enough his monstrous appearance, to this peninsula, that he takes it for granted. Being around Greed's hardly helped in that regard; if there were ever a person to encourage others to embrace their transformations, it was the demon.][As soon as Edward's far enough inside, the shade pulls away from the door (practically glides), letting it slide shut behind them. It closes with a final-sounding click, as if it's far too late to leave now; Stocke himself doesn't move far, choosing to lean against the wall beside it. His arms cross, one leg bending over the other braced on the floor; the sheath of the blade at his side taps against the wall softly, once.]
[There's something in the shade's demeanor - subtle, with no particular single change that can be pointed out, but he's far more relaxed inside the 'Nest than he was without. It only gets more pronounced as the demon trails down the stairs. Whatever the reason, he trusts Greed.]
[And when the demon asks his question - 'What do you have for me?' - Stocke's quick enough to answer. He tilts his head in Ed's direction.] Pulled a native off him. He wanted to see the Nest once he heard the name.
[By this time Ed's already spilling out his exclamation; the shade's eyes flicker white in not-quite surprise, and he settles into silence to listen and watch. If there is trouble, it's obvious he'll be taking Greed's side; but he's not interested in blocking the door unless the demon gives him a signal.]
you're good no sweat!
[But the calm doesn't last very long and a familiar voice shoots out from the dark. One of the women out back lifts her head, the various eyes embedded in her forehead opening at once. Like black pearls, they glean with the Sin's constant heat. She blinks them once, running her fingers along the side of her hair. It isn't a threat, least not at the moment. So she ignores it.]
Ah-?
[Greed perks up, his stance similar to a disturbed vulture. A comical kind of frown drags on his face and his eyebrows slide up from his sunglasses. Rippling his forehead until the thin, rectangular notches of scales stops them completely. He hasn't seen Edward Elric since that last day - since he pulled his final card, leaving the rest to finish off what he started. Of course then, he had been wearing a different face: a borrowed one. The Sin slides out one foot after the other, slicing over the tips of his boots in a slow-moving saunter.]
[He looks different than the former homunculus remembers. Missing something - that red of his that's such a part of him, Greed could hardly forget. A smile cracks up one half of his jaw, those teeth of his glinting in a serrated motion.] Oh-? It's been a while. [The baritone of his voice purrs thick in his throat; as Greed coils and twists, the proverbial predator on the prowl. At his backside, the long length of his tail drags and weaves. Making the decorated arrangements skip along side the uneven floor.]
Good work, bringing him here. [The Sin waves absently at Stocke, a gesture to signal that any further action isn't necessary. Least not here, not yet.] And you could say we know each other. Though it was a bit different the last time.
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I'd call that the understatement of the damn century.
[Something about Greed's reactions twig something in the back of Ed's mind, little discrepancies that mean something but he can't place to what. He hadn't known Greed for terribly long--the man had a force of personality, but he could still count on one hand the amount of times they'd ever spoken. It was possible that Ed had misjudged Greed's capacity to hold a grudge (or give a shit in general), but for the moment his guilt from the past and nerves about his current situation keep him from thinking too hard on the subject.]
[Ed glances back to Stocke for a moment, checking his reaction to all this, before making his way through the bar over to Greed. He steps over tails and wing-tips, dodges around the patrons with horns and protrusions with faint apologies. A small part of him wonders if this really in inevitable for him as well, what sorts of changes will be inflicted on him. But now he's close enough to Greed he can lower his voice to a more reasonable level, and the sin can see some of the more subtle changes from the Edward he knew. Older, obviously, but in more than just physical age. There's something very tired about Ed underneath his exterior of bravado, a flicker to the flames that burned so brightly behind his eyes before.]
How long have you been here? How are you even alive now?
[Right into the questions, of course, now that Greed hasn't bit his face off or sent him packing right out the door. There's too many mysteries unanswered hanging in the air for Edward to not latch onto a few of them, try and work out just what kind of situation he's landed into. He doesn't much appreciate being shunted into another world all over again; at least last time it had been because of something he chose himself. He's going to find answers, discover a way out of this.]
[And maybe find out what dangers are lying in wait as well. Ed casts a pointed glance at Greed's horn, raising an eyebrow.] Still getting into trouble, too, I see. [Not an accusation, but a sideways expression of worry. What happened, are you alright?]
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[He shouldn't look like that if it all played out right. But he'll get to that later.] Been that long, huh? [Greed says, almost aloft. This close up, some of the fingerprints of his struggle a week before become more noticeable. There's angry rings around his wrist, thick and bulging in scabbed-over scales. Another set peers out from the cuff-neck of his collar, the obvious sign of something hard and metal rubbing against his exposed flesh. It gives the depiction of a choke vice; something to keep him pinned down and out of the way.]
[Greed doesn't mention anything, however.] I've been here a few months now. [September, October. He's never had a need to count the days and he certainly isn't about to start now. The Sin's spine slouches, sending him half-sagging over the pointed jut of his hips.] And that's a good question, but like I've always said -
[His voice simmers in his throat, a new coaxing fire shooting fingers of burnt-orange through the thick, black coating under his chin. They breath with life; with a too-hot heat radiating from deep, deep down. His own proverbial pit.] - there's no such thing as no such thing. Being here is proof of that.
[Still, he watches the Alchemist with a cool expression. Edward Elric has never been a subtle character. Bull-headed and running just as red as his signature color. But now, there's something new. Something different. Something wrong. Greed takes it as a sign and he waves to Stocke, cocking his wrist off with a two finger salute.] Gotta take care of this. Man the bar, hmn? [Whether or not Stocke acknowledges, the Sin has no doubts that the order will be taken care of. The Shade's been nothing short of a right-hand man, an asset worth any trouble.]
[He turns around in a shallow swoop, the angle of his wings following in tow. They open just a tick, shedding plumes of ash that frame in a dreary halo.] Gunna guess you want to do this privately - that right? [Though, the Sin doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he slithers back into the dark recesses. Moving toward the very same iron-clad staircase from whence he came.]
[It's up to the Alchemist whether or not he cares to follow. But Greed doesn't have many doubts about that either.]
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[Ed lets out a small snort of laughter at Greed's response, shaking his head. It certainly has been a while, hasn't it?] It's been two years since that night for me. A lot has happened since then. [His whole life turned upside down because of one selfish woman that feared death too much, but it's not like he's bitter or anything.]
[Somehow he isn't surprised at Greed's relaxed attitude toward his fate, but...well, he can hardly blame him. Being turned into some kind of monster would hardly be a change of pace for a homunculus, and being given an extra chance at life while he's at it? Probably seems like a dream from that perspective.] And proof I've got a hell of a lot of digging to do if I want to figure this all out.
[He nods at the suggestion, and as Greed retreats back up the stairs Ed follows suit, pausing only to shoot a glance and grateful wave to Stocke before the pair vanish up the stairs. They both have questions that need answers, that much is obvious, and Ed's starting to get an inkling that some of those are ones that neither of them are anticipating. Better to work out just what they're missing where they don't have to worry about eavesdroppers. Even if this isn't home, Ed doesn't exactly feel comfortable chatting about his past where anyone could hear.]
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[No, what Ed has to say points in a different direction. One he's had the misfortune of meeting before: something else, a story not quite right. It doesn't show on his face, not at first - that stead-fast smile gleaming with a sulfur expression. Yellows and reds hum against the backside of his teeth, giving his wicked set a sheen.]
[When he reaches the second floor, it's obvious they still aren't alone. Doors line the corridor and while most of them are shut from intrusion, some are open still. Spilling slivers of milky light out in jagged, sharp cuts. Some occupants flick a glance as they pass, an obvious ease taking their shoulders when they see the demon in question.] Not really much different than before - some things really don't change.
[It's the end of the hallway where Greed stops. The door there is singed, the framed blackened despite some obviously-new handy work. There's more locks bolted across the wood this time around, their fresh copper glowing against Greed's radiating heat. He flips a few with his knuckle rather casually, only pausing when he finally reaches the doorknob. The Sin's slick-black hand disappears into a pocket and something jingles heavily inside. A moment later produces a ring of keys and they hang loosely from a curve of a claw.] No, I'm sure you've got a lot on your mind. But first thing's first -
[One key slides into the lock and Greed twists his wrist. Angry flakes of skin peel away in the haphazard jerk, causing old scabs to open just a tad. The Sin ignores them, however. His attentions far more concerned with present company.]
[And how much he knows, how much is different.]
[The room in question doesn't leave much to the imagination and it's all too clear that he's had company recently. Who or what has been there, that's harder to tell. Fresh claw marks hover over the head of the bed, the wallpaper peeled back and flapping. The furnace lodged into a corner huffs upon is arrival; causing the fire inside to plume and spit against the barred-mouth grate. Greed slips in, leaving the door open for the Alchemist to follow.]
[A fresh tumbler of scotch rests open on a nightstand, its glass stopper resting horizontally beside. Half the contents are gone by now and Greed's fingers wrap around the neck of it. Making the tips of his talons shiver across the surface, tuning it to a hum. He's not about to waste time - he's never been the sort.]
What do you remember, exactly? [And it's straight to business.]
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[Another concerned frown is cast at that flaking wound, but there's no vocal comment. Instead he simply nods and steps inside on Greed's invitation before taking a glance around the room. The claw marks above the bed bring a brief, pink tinge to Edward's cheeks before he averts his eyes, bringing his focus back onto Greed. His eyes spark with a hint of interest when he spies the scotch, but there's more important things to address first. The question, and especially the phrasing just confirm what he's started to suspect. There's a disconnect between their histories, though one much more subtle than has happened before.]
What I remember? [Ed leans against the wall, sighing as he does. How much detail would he need to give? Where did the change in history lie between them? For now he starts with what was most recent; as they exchanged more, the full story could be told.] Well, last I saw you was when you'd gone back to Dante's mansion, and I found you there and her old body nearly cut in half. I assumed what seemed obvious, got pissed, and we fought. I didn't know she had started to seal you before I'd showed up, and you explained how to do it after I landed the killing blow. [His guilt and grief resurface for a moment before he shoves it back again, too stubborn and scared to really address it.] ...I hadn't expected you to fucking die like that.
[A deep breath before Edward cocks his head slightly, raising an eyebrow to Greed.] But I'm guessing that's not what happened for you, right? Something's different here.
[A familiar problem, one he's been living with quite intimately for the past two years. Even before he'd found Alfons studying with Oberth, he would too often catch sight of a familiar face that didn't really belong to his memories. People he'd met in passing, those he'd lost...seeing Hughes again had nearly stopped his heart where he stood. But then it had only been faces that had remained the same--they hadn't remembered him, or known anything of Amestris or his long string of adventures.]
sorry about the delay!
[But as soon as the Alchemist begins his story, everything seems to slam on the brakes.]
[Greed suddenly stills, the claw inside catching in a high-pitched trill. His shoulders stiffen, his tail jerks to a stop. As if suddenly, all the cogs weren't working - all the gears had locked up tight. It lasts for a while and the foggy noise from the bar below meets the quiet's call; drifting muted conversation through the slit floorboards.]
[Then his head snaps back, his bones crunch. And an erupting laughter cracks through the lull.]
[It lasts for a while, that boom. Enough to rattle the canter in hand and fresh fire churns in his throat. Sending a cough of blackened smoke to meet the ceiling in a filthy, sooty overhang. When he finally tappers off, a few fresh-caught embers spark off his tongue.] Ha - ! No, you've got it all wrong. You never killed me. [The Sin finds his footing again, cutting an uneven line across the room. The canter finds a home on a table closer to the bed and he relieves himself of it with haphazard abandon.] And I don't know anyone named Dante.
[The tip of his tail slithers across the floor between their conversation, the barbed edge easing behind the handle. A jerk of his hip sends the door wide open and the fire inside is angry, yet warm. Far too hot, yet oddly inviting. Greed tilts his head to the side and his sunglasses boil with the afterglow. In an orange-pitch that's a little closer to gold than anything else.]
[But what Ed has to say leads to one thing for both parties: a suspicion confirmed. Their stories don't match, their histories are different. It isn't the first time he's experienced the discrepancies, but those had been mild. Small little details lost for whatever reason. This? Oh, this is just so much more.]
[And for avarice incarnate, well.] I'm going to guess the name Ling doesn't ring a bell either, does it? [With his back Ed, Greed traces the side of his drink. While it might not be seen, it's far easier to hear: that slick grin, poised tooth for tooth in a deadly set. He raps his knuckle once again the side of the glass, humming.] No, it's not. Good ol'Daddy sir - and you're not the first I've run across with a different story. Seems to me you and I have a lot to talk about, don't we?
[He doesn't even ask, nor does he imply that he'll have it any other way. A force to be reckoned with, though Greed doesn't have any ill intentions. Instead, two glasses appear from a drawer. Slipped up and clipped together by the brims. He sloshes a healthy serving in one, topping off the next with a little less. Then the canter's gone and he finally turns to face the other.] First thing's first -
[He holds out one glass for the other, his grin wide. Whether or not the gesture is sincere, it's hard to tell.]
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[But Greed bursts out in fiery laughter and he sighs in relief with a faint chuckle. Maybe an odd thing to take comfort in, given the sin's (disturbingly appropriate) demonic appearance; someone else might have been intimidated by a display like this, but Ed has seen far worse demons that wore a kinder face. No, Greed isn't someone he needs to fear. Not right now, at least.]
[The explanations of the differences--those bring a faint frown, though one born of confusion rather than upset. If Dante wasn't still around, did that mean the homunculii were truly acting on their own devices? Or had someone else stepped in to fill those shoes?]
[He shrugs the heavy overcoat off as the boiler spills even more heat into the room. Obviously this must be comfortable for Greed, but a mere human is likely to sweat through his shirt if he keeps that warm layer on in here.] I can't say I've ever met a Ling before. Who are they? [They must be a friend for Greed to have brought them up. Someone that worked with and helped them both, maybe? And that second part, about 'Good ol'Daddy'...that's rather worrying.] Wait, you're not talking about Hohenheim, are you?
[Ed doesn't protest the unspoken insistence of information; he's just as eager to know where the differences lie, what that might mean. He steps away from the wall and over to Greed, accepting the glass with a grin and nod.] Who's the other person you met, though? Someone I might know?
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[A chaste grin sweeps his face, igniting like a freshly-stroked match. The noise from below still chimes through; in a garbled, drowned mess.] I imagine he's the emperor of Xing now, if you and yours took the opportunity. [The glass hits his lips and he takes no time draining it. The liquor goes down, hissing all the way as it travels and sparks in his gullet. The thin veins on his throat expand as he does and he's thirsty. Oh, is he thirsty. As scotch tumbles in wave after wave. Until only mere sheen is left at the bottom of the glass. When he's finished, a lofty sigh escapes him and his thumb chases the dip of his chin. Effectively cleaning away anything he's lost.] Ha - ! No, not Hohenheim. But you could say they were one in the same. Daddy sir - the one who made us. I guess that's another thing that's different between you and I.
[The glass finds a home next to the canter and Greed slowly closes the gap. He walks like he should - a kin to the other set of six and while he considers himself different than the rest, there are some things that remain the same. A predator by design, he slouches when he walks. Bringing his wings up just so.] Maybe. There's another alchemist here who said he's worked for me before. But I've never had one, least not before - [Ah, right. The Sin's chin sinks and one wrist turns outward. Sending out a five-claw sprawl.] - Kimbley. But the one I know of was working with the others, not for me.
[He stops mere inches from Ed, his body far too close for comfort. A heat hovers around him, coming off in waves that are both inviting and deadly. A tilt forward has him eye to eye with the other and for a split second, a wicked light shines through his shades. Humming red to make that sinister-cat look appear from the too-dark color of his sunglasses. Like a form fogging into a mirror, it's dreary and haunting.] He has another one with him. Some guy named Archer. And that Colonel of yours too, but it looks like he's no longer here.
So - [Greed purrs, his voice causing a fresh shudder of ash to quake and shiver under his throat.] - what's your story?
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[Listening to Greed, Edward's eyebrows raise up at the description. An emperor, huh?] Well, damn. What'd I do to get involved with royalty of all things? [And a clarification that really isn't one--what did he mean by 'one and the same'? How could there be two of him, this wasn't some kid's story where a magic spell split a person apart. The more Greed explains, the stranger this all seems.]
[As Greed continues, Edward feels a cold lump settle in his stomach.] Roy was here? [Kimbley he already knew about, and Archer, while an unwelcome addition, somehow doesn't surprise him. But Roy he actually gave a shit about, and damn well shouldn't be stuck here away from the country he intended to serve. Gone could mean that he'd been pulled back home somehow, but what could that mean? What if he'd changed before he was brought back to Amestris? There was no reason to think the transformation would simply go away when you left this world--what would happen to him? And even worse, what if 'gone' meant something else, something that made Ed's stomach twist up in grief?]
[His back goes a little stiff as Greed closes in, but he doesn't back away. The heat rolls off of the demon and seems to pool around Ed, making a small bead of sweat slide down his hairline. He's well aware of Greed's body language, the unconscious way he exudes just who and what he is. The changes only accentuate it, and while Ed isn't afraid of Greed it still triggers that animal hindbrain instinct, the feeling of threat and danger. But Edward doesn't give into it, refuses--his stubborn pride and what's left of his youthful idiocy quelling the nervous feeling in his chest. He meets Greed's eyes with a look nearing defiance, not showing a lick of intimidation.]
[Instead a smirk spreads across his face, and he lifts the glass to take another sip before replying.] Where do you want me to start?
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[It's known territory.] Wasn't really around when you two met, sorry. [What he means, he won't elaborate. But the insinuation is there - hidden just under the surface, the fine print in a nasty contract. Greed's thumbs slip through the belt loops on his pants, allowing his claws to spread. Like a spider feeling out its surroundings, his knuckles bend, the tips skitter. Tap-tap-tapping off the sides of his thighs in a rhythmic procession.] He was. Didn't really have much to say, really. I only saw him once or twice. But then again, he mostly stayed in Bavan. Tends to be the destination for most when they get here. [Which is an implication all in itself - that Bavan has something more to offer. A sense of normalcy, structure.]
[It should be no wonder why the cardinal Sin in question chose the latter. Vandare's far more similar to Dublith. A lower point with plenty of places to crawl and slither into.]
[Greed knocks back his heel, swaying the dramatic tip of his boot up and out.] Why don't you tell me exactly what you remember. And in exchange - [The age-old mantra. He holds it out, baiting his words with a shallow purr that spits the charcoal-slick at his throat once more. Gold coaxes, bringing a loathsome glow to highlight the under part of his chin. He shifts his weight, teetering to the side in a half-drawn semi circle as he rounds the other. Like this, he's got the look of a vulture on the prowl. Circling and circling for the right opportunity.] - I'll tell you what I know. Equivalent exchange, right? [The length of his tail trails behind him, brushing across the floor in a wide sweep. The barbed end flicks casually in the process, swaying in the same molasses-slow motion that's both deceptive and entirely him.]
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["Not around", huh? Something about the way Greed says that catches his attention, and he files it way in his mind. Whether a reference to a death, a capture...it could simply mean that he didn't know and had never been told, but he won't take that for granted. Occam's Razor is useful, but not always correct.] It's less rural, I'll grant that. Do you have any idea what happened to Roy? [There's a big difference between 'got on the bad side of the locals' and 'just fell off the face of the earth'. ...well, in theory. The first presumably leaves a body behind, at least.] How often to people go missing like that?
["Equivalent Exchange"...Edward laughs and grins, not turning but still keeping his eyes on Greed as he stalks around him. His posture stays easy, relaxed. Confident in himself not fearing the fire that licks behind Greed's words.] Yeah, I'd call that a fair trade. A story for a story, I'll accept that. [Funny, that he found himself again being plied for information in the Devil's Nest. For a moment he wonders if that meeting went as disastrously in the other world as it did in his.] If I was in the military, I assume I must have tried to bring my mother back and gotten Al stuck in that armor in your world as well.
[Ed ponders for a moment, taking another generous sip as he thinks over where to start his story. Greed likely wouldn't be interested in the years chasing false leads and being Roy's errand boy, and Nina's story isn't one he feels up to retelling...] I was fifteen when Roy clued me into where Marcoh had been holed up. He was one of the alchemists that created the incomplete Stones used in Ishbal to end the war, ran off with the research from Labratory Five after he saw the destruction he'd helped bring. The Colonel had been covering for him, but apparently something had leaked since Scar nearly beat me to finding him. There was a bit of a scuffle, obviously, [He nearly died, his arm destroyed and Al nearly blown apart,] but Marcoh was able to give us enough of a hint to find Labratory Five. The place was still running, and that was the first time we ran into any of the homunculii.
[He grimaces as he remembers that whole mess.] It was Envy, Lust, and Gluttony. They captured Al, tried to get me to make the Stone for them there. It...I couldn't do it, not once I knew they had living humans and not just material needing to be refined. The whole place started coming down around our ears--we got out, and I found out later you broke out Martel and the rest of your crew before the military came swarming in to clean up what was left.
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[Beatrice, Aoba, Peter - just a few he can count on one hand. Greed's fingers peel open, flicking wide claw after claw. The proverbial feline counting its inventory. While some of the changes have been dramatic, others hark to his original making. The black coating of scales trills up his arm in jagged, uneven rectangles - his claws are coiled and sharp. The pattern salutes back to that 'Shield of his. Reaching up, up, up. But unlike before, veins of lava froth under the surface. And on his left hand, they converge. Forming like a fresh-fire brand in an old, familiar design:]
[The Ouroboros. A tell of what he is, what he used to be. Constantly running to consume itself.]
That's right - least that much hasn't changed. Word traveled fast to Dublith after you and yours ran into that serial killer in Central. Scar, right? [The Sin chimes back in, his voice still as sultry-slick as always despite current circumstances. There were some similarities to their stories. Lab 5 still existed and while Greed had seen it only once or twice in his long-time running, he knows others that had been far more familiar. His would-be kin most obviously, his chimeras second. Greed turns his wrists as his walks, hovering the tips of his nails thoughtfully over the collection of things stockpiled in his room. He pauses when Ed continues his story, the length of his back exposing in a long, drawn-out shrug.]
I don't know if that happened where I'm from. Daddy sir had other plans in mind. [A venomous note rattles in his voice; similar to a python singing its finale to slowly-gasping prey. His hand jerks up wildly, illustrating his point.] Five sacrifices. He wanted to gain the power of God. Ha - !
[Another bark of laughter coughs from his gullet, mimicking a back-firing exhaust. He carefully pockets his hands, his skull tilting in the direction of a half-boarded window. Bits of still-burning cinders flutter through the cracks. Carried off in burly billow of smoke that quickly thins once the outside breeze catches. He lulls his head idly to his shoulder, calling up fur to frame and trace his jawline.]
I broke them out, that's true. But that was long before you came along. Eh- guess it doesn't matter, hmn? [A soft twinkle sounds off. As the tip of his tail comes dangerously-close to Ed, the barbed-charmed end rising up from the floor. It glides over the Alchemist's shoulders for a brief flick, a little inspection. Before it tosses gently, taking the momentum to sink back into the murky top-layer hovering across the floor.]
From what I've heard, the homunculi you know were a bit different too - me and mine were never human to begin with. [The Sin croons at nothing in particular as he reaches through parting smoke for the canter again. The tips of his claws wrap the neck one by one, lifting it with a shivering-shrill. It hangs between his knuckles, the smooth sides rubbing against one of his leather-clad thighs.]
That and I've died twice from where I'm from. And not the kind we usually come back from.
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[His eye is caught by the flicking of claws, the sparks that light and drift to the floor on invisible currents of air. The glow on the back of Greed's hand is both alien and entirely familiar, and Ed is honestly surprised how much confort he takes in it. After being alone for so long in a strange world, one that thought his past was nothing more than an overactive imagination at best and insanity at worse, it was reassuring to speak with someone that acknowledged his memories as real. Sure, the source wasn't ideal, but he wasn't about to shove his head into that horse's mouth.]
Yeah, that's him. You and yours leapt onto me and Al pretty quick once we were in Dublith. The military returned the favor, unfortunately, but I wasn't directly involved in any of that. [Honestly, Ed had started to become very disillusioned with his government at that point. The list of people we was willing to trust had dwindled very quickly to barely enough to fit on two hands, and he hadn't exactly had many close friends in the first place.]
[With Greed's second response, he nearly chokes taking a sip of his scotch. There's a few seconds of coughing and sputtering before he actually finds his voice again.] The power of--he wanted to control the Gate?! [That was--insane! Ludicrous! The thing was a force of nature, it would have laughed off anyone dumb enough to try a stunt like that! And 'five sacrifices'--there's obviously more to this plan, but it's still crazy! Even five Stones wouldn't be enough to buy that sort of power from the thing!] What the hell was he on that he thought he could pull that off?
Not int he long run, I suppose-- [Edward goes still at the sound of the faint chime, watching Greed's tail coil around his shoulders with a combined sense of concern and fascination. He's not quite sure what to make of the gesture but it sends a faint shiver down his back regardless, a feeling he can't quite place squeezing his chest before the black-and-silver whip drifts back down to the floor.]
[Ed swallows and shakes his head to clear the odd thoughts before he replies to the rest.] So you were created to be entirely yourselves... [It explained the differences, certainly, though it made the resemblance more confusing. It wasn't perfect--he remembered the Greed of his world being taller, for one--but still enough to make him wonder what link there was to leave the similarities there were.] Twice? So when you die for good there's still something to--to be salvaged? [He hates having to put it that way, but there isn't really a kind way to put it when you get right down to it.]
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[As he walks, burning prints sizzle behind him. The dim of smoke now finally dwindling, they're easier to see. They form in the same shape as the back of his heels and boiling rubber leaves behind bubbly, ashy remnants branded hard into the wood floor. Like setting tar on a hot summer day. Despite that, the structure of his signature pair still holds. Wafting in a low-set, shimmering mirage.]
[He chases a grin over his shoulder once he's swept the room a second time, eyeing the Alchemist through the crisp white fur at his collar. And if his eyes are trailing, if there's inspection there?]
[It's merely only that of stagnant interest. Connecting where the dots remain similar and when others spin off in another direction entirely. Same image, same Edward Elric; just with some added or missing details.] Ha - ! You really never were very subtle. [The former homunculus slips back into conversation as easily as a piranha momentarily knocked from a feeding frenzy. Out on moment, back into the fray the next. He steals from the bottle again and scotch catches in his throat. Turning a gassy, feverish blue that's both ghostly and foreign. Orange banks to the call not too soon later and the colors fight for dominance under the thin later of sooty skin. Then it's gone again and the Sin shoves his wrist across his mouth, crudely cleaning his lip clean.] Ah- now, that really depends. It takes a lot more than usual to kill us - I'm sure the same was for yours, that right?
[The charm on the bottle squeals when Greed tosses it back onto the dresser. The chain holding it together does a ring-a-round the neck, spinning for a few short beats. But a quick-dart fling of a claw stops it, the movement fast and on target. And metal twirls around the curve of his finger, slipping across it like liquidized gold.] He knew how to make it quick and how to make sure it wasn't entirely a waste. Purification - [He bends towards the bottle and the reflection back is nothing more than a glowing smog of smoke. Until his lips pull wide and a sheen of dagger-sharp white moves aimlessly across the surface. Intangible, but still there; a muddled mix between the rounded, formed canter.] - didn't last as long as he wanted it to, though.
A Philosopher's stone - [The tips of his claws skate a retreat and he motions to his chest. Half tilted away from the Alchemist, yet still very much in view - he runs his nails across his sternum, drawing lines back a little lower to where a human heart would be. Locked behind a cage of ribs and oh, isn't it just avarice to keep something so precious so well hidden.] - not that it matters now, but each one of us had one. If you could purify it without using all the souls up, it's possible we can be salvaged.
[He pauses, rolling the fork of his tongue against the back of his teeth.] Of course, none of the others really had the chance.
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[Greed had damned well better be sharing more than just a glass of this stuff, he is gonna need it.]
Never saw much of a point to being subtle. [He notes the examination, the interest, but given that he's paying just as much attention to Greed himself he doesn't complain. They're both curious, both wanting to know more about the other, the differences from the version they know. Already Edward has a far longer list of differences than simiarities, but given the wildly different origins that's not particularly surprising.] Yeah. You could burn through all their Stones if you were suicidal, but Dante knew an array that could force them out. Me and my bastard of a father are probably the only two left that know it.
[Edward's eyebrows lift higher and higher as Greed explains, and he lets out a low whistle between his teeth. Damn, but that's fucked up.] I can't imagine you were happy once you got those memories back. Hope you gave him hell. [He shakes his head, draining the rest of the glass in a quick gulp and grimace.] I never got a chance to look at her notes or anything, but I know Dante was able to do something a bit more...extreme. She just took everything except the hunger out of Gluttony, left him basically mindless.
[He cocks his head and raises an eyebrow with a faint smirk.] In case it isn't obvious, she was the one playing puppeteer in my world. Her plans were a bit more modest than this 'Father' of yours, though. [He has a feeling Greed would approve of her end goal, at least. Crazy bastard.]
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[It doesn't matter where they come from, what they've seen. The words are the same:]
["We have history, don't we."]
[Greed chases a grin towards the closed door, a slight whistle churning at the tips of his teeth. To have one stone was normal, to have multiple - ] Oh-? Sounds like she wasn't exactly very friendly. From what I know, that Dad of yours knew plenty. But he wasn't working against you where I'm from. [It's an educated guess; the way the other talks with venom waiting on his tongue. Greed sways at Ed's side, cross-stepping over the sways of his boots as he tilts, twists and churns. He moves like a viper; rolling his torso, his spine. The folded wings at his back peel away, rising up and above them like a leathery umbrella complete with red-hot veins and trembling ash.]
[When Ed continues, the Sin's smile tightens for just a second. Giving them hell - ] No, I can't deny that. Though the little pissant Prince took advantage after. Not that it did much good. [Vague, but enough to get his point across. There are some roads he's not interested in traveling and this? Well, it's just one of those forks. He'd rather take the other option.] Sounds like they were similar, but not quite the same. Good ol'Daddy sir couldn't do something like that.
[The jagged hooks at the top of his wings skitter across the ceiling, drawing more lines into already-peeling paint. Small scars burn in pitches of charcoal, sketched out in warm lines that quickly cool with the late-night breeze.] So - do you plan on staying here? It's the same deal as before - you'd be working for me, but I'm not about to deny you. And I'm sure you already know how this works, hmn?
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[Smaller ones, admittedly. False stones, really, incomplete and unrefined. But they were still Stones, and fueled the homunculii's abilities just the same. Ed snorts as he moves to pour another glass, stepping over to a small table to set the glass down onto.] Oh, hardly. And the old man wasn't really working against us, either, but he didn't help all that much. [Probably out of muddled guilt for past sins, if Edward is honest with himself. Doesn't stop him from being bitter about it, though.] I got the feeling she hadn't ever done it before, the way Envy reacted. Only time I ever saw the bastard scared of something.
[He should be on edge from Greed's posturing, the way he moves around him like a hungry shark closing in on a wounded seal. Any normal person would have found some excuse and fled the room before they were eaten alive, but the thought doesn't even occur to Ed. It's shady and threatening, sure, but he doesn't feel trapped. The wings stretching around him, the pulsing so-faint glow and smell of burning, it just earns an easy grin as he watches Greed's constant flow of movement. For all the oddities, it's not that hard to understand what Greed is about.] Seems like that's the theme with us, huh? Just similar enough we can get the idea, but the rest... [He makes a vague gesture as he pours out another serving, golden liquid spilling and swirling around itself.]
[The offer makes him pause, glance over to Greed with a contemplative look. Certainly he'd come into the Nest with the idea of signing on, but actually going through with it...that was another story. He knew what it meant for him, the kind of road he would be going down. Greed is good people, but he isn't nice by any stretch of the imagination. Ed isn't stupid, though--he'd be safe here, especially once the changes he's been dreading start setting in. And he knows Greed--moreover, Greed knows Edward. He knows the world he's from, and that is something that Ed has been starved for the past year and a half.] I was thinking about it. You sure you won't regret taking me on?
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[The venom in his words rides on thick trails of smoke and steam. Behind him, in a smog of silt, the bend of his tail rises again. Waving back and forth, a pendulum of hard spikes and steel. The corners of the Sin's eyes twitch with a sort of tenseness. As if he means to pounce, as if he could set his teeth right in and oh, isn't it just the big, bad wolf that's strolled into town.]
[But the Alchemist knows, he knows: the look is saved for someone else entirely.]
[The former homunculus tosses one hand out wildly, the ravenous expression cast aside. The bands on his wrist twist and chime; throwing and spinning across the smooth-plated skin of his forearm.] Seems like it. There's a few things I still don't know much about. Kimbley for instance - [Though that seems to be a moot point. What happened to that particular time bomb and his other self: it isn't his story and truth be told, he doesn't entirely care. As long as the destructive-prone Alchemist doesn't try anything, it's water under a bridge Greed's never had the luxury of crossing.]
[The thought passes, though. And a wild look of surprise makes the Sin rise. As if jolted, his mouth hangs open with a held out: "Ah-?". Before his torso all but snaps over his spine and those wings of his explode outwards with his laughter. His head tosses over the fur at his collar and the billow of his baritone once again rattles the walls. Shakes the floor. Then he's back again with jarring quickness, the span of his wings enclosing over Ed like hellish arms coming on to smother. He curls in on the Alchemist, leering far too close for comfort.] Regret taking you on? Usually that's my line kid - working for me means you wouldn't belong to the normal world anymore. No regrets - [The curve of his horns come so close to Ed's own forward that they almost touch. They're a hair-length away, heavy-set coils packed to the brim with hell fire. And from behind his sunglasses, his eyes are watching. Eerily still, like the hollow sockets of a corpse.]
- and you'd be one of mine. So I'll ask again - are you in or not?
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[Not that he would be hiding behind the sin or anything, but having backup for a fight never hurt anyone.]
[A frown pulls at his mouth again when Greed mentions Kimbley, eyes narrowing in a smoldering fury held beneath the surface.] I don't know as much about his history with you, only that he went running off to the military as soon as he had the chance. [And the small matter of him turning Alphonse into a ticking time bomb, but this version doesn't seem to have done that yet. Besides, that's not something Greed would necessarily be concerned with, and so long as his little brother doesn't show up it will have to remain a non-issue.]
[When Greed straightens up, for a moment Ed wonders if he said the wrong thing. And then the bellowing laugh, the shaking timber above raining old soot and ashes on their heads shakes any other thought out of his head. Edward's spine snaps ramrod straight when the demon closes back in, all fire and claws and raw intimidation that sets every one of the alarms in his head blaring. But he doesn't back off, staring right back into that burning gaze and baring his teeth in a fierce grin even as beads of sweat roll down his head from the oven-like heat. His pulse beats a swift tempo in his ears, and a few hairs singe away as they brush against the horns that threaten to blister Ed's forehead.]
I haven't belonged to any world in a damn long time. Yeah, I'll take your deal, Greed.
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[As expected, the Alchemist doesn't back down. Not even when instinct makes his spine taut like a wire. The Sin pockets one hand and the other shoots out at an index. He taps his company's shoulder with a terrible grin, amusement laced under fire.] Ha - ! Fine then, just remember -
[He backs away then and a good breeze runs in swiftly. Extending itself across the Alchemist like someone shoving between, spreading themselves to protect the other against another onslaught. Greed's arm falls slack back to his side, the murky thick of his own after-burn now nothing more than dim twinkles of dust. He slaps his foot down as an afterthought and the tail behind him cracks with an interest.] - you'd be working for me. [As he talks, his tail relaxes and the arrow-tipped point sinks into a dresser, pulling out one of the drawers. He doesn't need to see it to know it's there - a key ring. And while it's lost some weight since he first started, there's still pieces of iron left dangling on the line. The end of his tail slips through the circlet of metal, bringing it up and out of the proverbial abyss in a harmony of soft, haunting chimes.]
[He immediately deposits it in the open stretch of his hand.] Yours is down the hall. [The Sin replies and his thumb nail presses into the ring, popping out one solid key. It's a bit smaller than the rest, its teeth crooked and flaked-over in rust damage. Pockets of gnarled metal drill themselves into the base, making it look particularly old. He tosses it to Ed.] I'm sure I don't have to explain how the rest of this works, do I?
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[His eyes stay locked with the sin's own for several moments before he remembers the glass still in his hand. With another sigh he knocks it back, draining the half-filled glass with a grimace before setting it back down. The bottle he keeps hold of, carefully stoppered back up for later and held close to the chest. His eyes follow Greed's movements, note the keyring with interest.]
Even if I didn't, you wouldn't let me forget, would you? [No, he knows who has the proverbial leash on his new collar, who it is he answers to now. Oddly it doesn't chafe as much as the old, not yet, but then the bargain has only just been struck. There's still plenty of time for the friction to build. No sense in inviting any of it sooner than needed.]
[When the key is tossed his way he snatches it out of the air easily, and he looks it over for a moment while Greed talks. Old, broken, but still useable...there should be a joke about fitting locks here, but he can't think of it. Gold eyes flick back up, and Ed smirks as he pockets the key.] Nah, I think I got it from here.
[He turns and heads back to the door, taking that as a dismissal for the moment. He pauses before opening it though, looking at the demon with an honest, real smile.] Thanks.
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