Probably not - [Greed's turning away from the other as he talks, hands shoved deep into his pockets. His clawed thumbs hang out, grazing the leather trapping his thigh. He ticks his head to the side, his eyes already shut by the time Ed's heading for the door. A creep of yellow light slices into his abode, cutting in like a sliver of glass.]
Don't mention it, kid. [It's almost sincere, almost - well. Greed shoots a hand above his head, knocking his wrist off at a slant. It's a quick wave, two of his fingers tucked together like someone making a crude gesture of a firearm. Then the kid's off.]
no subject
Don't mention it, kid. [It's almost sincere, almost - well. Greed shoots a hand above his head, knocking his wrist off at a slant. It's a quick wave, two of his fingers tucked together like someone making a crude gesture of a firearm. Then the kid's off.]
[And he has one more to add to the growing list.]