graveyardsmash | TEST DRIVE MEME

TEST DRIVE MEME

TEST DRIVE MEME



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: The State of the Game Discussion produced a lot of great suggestions and we now have a post for Plot Suggestions and Monster Questions. The NETWORK VOTE results are in and PRIVATE MESSAGING will be added some time in November. Lots of people have asked good questions on the FAQ, so do take a look. You can only app ONE character per round so choose wisely. Reserve and application dates have been announced. Test drive meme threads can be used for your roleplay sample! Sample scenarios: SCENARIO ONE: You've just been released from the hospital in Vandare and no one really seems to know what to do with you. The locals offer polite advice but don't seem to want to spend a lot of time with you. You and the other new arrivals stick out like sore thumbs, so perhaps one will spot you wandering about town. 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. SCENARIO THREE: 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

➥ Option 3 | Gargoyle

[The first thing he feels is the sun slipping down. The warmth drags away like an anchoring noose, disappearing and replaced by the crisp-cold chill of night. It slowly fingers across the sky, crawling to fill the gaps left by a fresh dusk. Shadows touch the tips of his claws first, giving the look of thick oil running across the too-black color of his fingertips.]

[One pries loose. Hitching from the armrest of his stone-still throne. The next follow; one by one they splinter away to a terrible, cracking tune. Jagged lines zigzag over his forearm and pitch-black lines finally fall away to reveal the skin underneath. The transformation isn't complete yet, but oh - it is a start.]

Ah- [Greed's groans as his jaw staggers open. The breath that comes from him takes on the feeling of smoke. Rising up and out of his throat in a sighing puff. The Sin twists his neck to the side and the bones still left behind pucker, bend, then slip back into place with a trembling-click. More stone falls away from his face, his skin. Egg shells to something newly-born again and if there's irony there, Greed's missed it completely.]

[Instead, he presses the butt of his palm to the back of his skull and jerks it. What changes have occurred are minor at this stage. The racing marks of black stone take on the shape of his 'Shield. Stretching to the crook of his elbows and stopping in erratic up(s) and down(s) of elongated rectangles. It's there that it pauses, only to crop up again near his throat, across his chest. Not entirely swallowing him, no. But threatening ever-so-close with each day that passes.]

[Not that it matters right now. He's got the chance to actually move again and for a creature such as him, that's worth a good plenty.]

[Though in all honesty? It's never, ever enough.]

[The former-homunculus yanks his heels out. Poetic is his position - sitting on a throne set on high, carved out of stone to watch the world pass by. And watch he did - frozen in a prison he could not escape until the bright sun fell away and night came washing in like a cleansing tide. It isn't a position he particular likes. But the jab isn't lost on him and as he finally pries those hazy-purple eyes of his open, the Sin lets a wide grin split his face. Razor-like teeth line his jaw and fan out; interlocking in an exchange made to kill and he can almost feel it now. That need waking him - kick starting like paddles to the chest.]

[Greed pushes himself to his feet and casually shakes the rest of the rock-residue off. Certainly, he's been robbed. But there are just some things that can't be taken so easily.]

[And with the time to spare? He doesn't see any reason that he shouldn't take back the rest.]

Edited 2014-09-24 00:40 (UTC)

[This isn't one of the most bizarre things Sasha's witnessed, but on certain days he wish it will have been. The sound of crackling and crumbling is what draws his curiosity, and he sticks around instead of the more rational course of action--fleeing.

Honestly, he just wants to see the person behind the stone. It's intriguing.

Sasha pushes his hood back as Greed finishes breaking free of his shell. A gloved hand runs his bangs backwards and the other pins them back with a clip, revealing a set of eight vividly colored blue and green eyes--

--ah, now he can see the other better now. Especially in the dimness of twilight.]

Now that's a sound to make one's skin crawl, if I've ever heard one.

[He can't imagine how uncomfortable being that stiff would feel.]

Eh-?

[Greed hangs over the cliff-side of his perch. Threatening to teeter right off and go smashing to bits if he takes one false move. He sways in the direction of the voice and the tips of his boots bend when he arches. The look of surprise is short-lived, though. And it's not too long before that smugness comes creeping back onto his face. Slippery and cheeky, the Sin touches hooked-claws to his chest as he feels for his signature pair of sunglasses.] Oh - ? Could be worse - [The drawling of his voice echoes down his throat. Knocking like a vast chamber that's hollow and airy.] - but it's nice for the chance to move. Our friends there aren't too giving, are they?

[His eyes are bright like jewels. Ghostly in design, but earthly in making. As if they had been stolen from deep below and shoved into empty, black sockets. Even their shape has taken on a gem-like state. Crystallizing near the edges to magnify those terrible slit-pupils. They disappear when he flicks his sunglasses open, gingerly plucking at the silver frames not unlike a predator examining its kin. Greed places them on the edge of his nose and uses his fingers to push them up. A bump and a dip later has the pair fastened around his eyes. Giving him the look of a skull grinning back.]

Can't image that's comfortable either, friend. [One leg kicks off from the ledge and Greed all but takes gravity for a free plunge. Casual and nonchalant, he hits the ground feet first. Merely acting as if he had only stepped off a small ledge instead of falling a good story-or-two from the ground. Below him, his heels leave crescent-moon indents to tell of his passing.]

[But with one hand in his pocket, he's got the other pointing to Sasha's own set of anomalies. Four and four makes eight and Greed slouches over his hips to get a better look. He doesn't get to partake in the usual day-to-days here, but at night? It's all fair game.]

[And for a while, it's a mild distraction.]

[The Sin whistles through his teeth and the stone at his skin seems to quake with the sound.] Now that is something - [A tip has him side-glancing the other. As he waltzes in a heel-over-toe fashion, gently drawing a circle around present company and bringing it in tight.] This place is just full of surprises, isn't it.

[When he makes a second pass, Greed stops in front of Sasha.] Ah, right. That's a little rude. [His claws go to his chest, clicking against the flat shapes of stone. They spark when he spreads them and Greed makes a scissor-pattern at the dip of his collarbone. It's there that he falls a bit. Mocking a bow while his lips press together in a cool, coiled line.]

The name's Greed - why don't you and I get to be good friends, hmn?

[Even in the wake of Greed's fall, Sasha doesn't move or flinch--he simply watches, pairs of solid colors blinking in eerie synchrony after he lands. (What, do you mean people land from high places in any other way?) They seem devoid of any pupil, but the presence of his adamantly steadfast stare is undeniable. ]

Could be worse, [he parrots back, seemingly devoid of emotional investment in the change; whether or not that's actually the case--he tries to avoid thinking about it too much. He can't deny the advantage of his new ocular expansion, though; due to their arrangement, Greed spends very little time in a blind spot even without moving his head or eyeballs. He remains at ease, slightly slouched with his hands in his jacket pockets.]

Aleksandr Hell. You can call me Sasha. [He doesn't offer any sort of body language to go with his greeting, content to stay in his casual posture.

Other additions make themselves known when he speaks--fur-covered pedipalps on the sides of his head that move as if they were a counterbalance to his jaw. It's subtle--but certainly there.]

You use that word quite liberally for the kind of place this is.

[Kind of place. Full of natives who refuse to cough up any information, weather patterns that bring with them miserable changes to people who are stuck here against their will. And the part he detests the most--the hunger.]

[Moonlight slips across his sunglasses, making for a more sinister silver-lining. He's watching Sasha with growing interest; taking in how those eight eyes of his seem to move in unison, as if they know exactly where to go and how to function. He silently notes the protrusions near the jaw. Barely there, but still amassing themselves - they're like the slightest tip of valued metal sticking up from the ground.]

[And the more one digs, the more one is bound to find. Yet here, there is not digging. Time does it for them - unearthing the changes with each hour that passes, with each day that sets and starts anew.]

Sasha, huh. [Greed's other hand wraps snugly around his torso. Lodging across the cliff of his hip as he bends forward. Personal spaces aren't his forte and he has no inclination towards the idea. Instead, he eats it whole. Pushing his head first as he hangs dangerously head-over-heel. He looks like a buzzard that's just waiting for the last heart beats to stop. His shoulders rise when he flicks his wrist back out and two claws push at the remaining hair to get a better look-see. Sure enough, those furry add-on(s) are exactly what he suspects.]

[Animal, but alien. Strange, yet fitting. Of something that dwells in the dark and preys kindly on a primal sort of fear. A different sort of monster than him, but a monster none the less.]

[Not that it matters. Here, everyone not-native has been set on the same path. Heading directly into the unknown. If he were any other sort of creature, there may have been some sympathy.]

[But his face drops when Sasha speaks again and the thought's wiped completely. The soft part of his claws touch the bristly fur, then retract. With an erratic sort of demeanor, Greed swings away and howls. His head snaps back, his body goes straight. And the laughter that comes from him billows out. Loudly to the eerie night and it's enough to spook something out in that wilderness.]

Ha - ! Didn't really think that was a problem. It's not like we've been given much of a choice, right? [The Sin snaps his tongue against the roof of his mouth, then shrugs. The white fur at his collar bends to make a fan across the back of his skull.] But suit yourself.

[Greed rocks and bends at the middle of spine. It makes his torso twist one way and his hips the other. Another jolting snap knocks hollow under his skin as his lips purse together. Despite the cold greeting, it doesn't look like he's taking it to heart. The same smarmy attitude is locked in his expression: a confidence that's hard to break despite having his very existence snatched. Rewritten to someone else's plan, yet the former homunculus seems not to care in the slightest.]

[Least, not at the moment.] Don't get me wrong - s'good to know you still got it left in ya. That attitude of yours - kids should be more energetic, hmn? [His eyebrows press together and the threatening-tide of black at his hairline shifts with it.] Though I gotta admit, it's a little rude.

[Eh - Greed turns away, throwing his skull in the direction of the sky. Fires are starting to swell in the homes nearby. The most ancient practice of far more mortal kinds.]

[When the light fades, it's only natural to seek another source. A glow that burns at the coming dark, that promises to keep the monsters away.]

[Unfortunately this time, it won't do much good.]

[Greed finds his slouch again and his stride is dramatically slow. As if the waltz is practiced and poised. He moves with the demeanor of molasses, with the idea that the world before him is all his own.]

[Which, to some degree, it is.] You gunna stay there all night kid? Seems like a bit of a waste.

Ghh.

[For the first time, he becomes visibly unsettled by the proximity, his posture becoming stiff and uncomfortable as he leans away at the offending, analytical fingers. The closest eyes close defensively, while the farthest keep very close track of where they are...what they're touching.

His pedipalp twitches in recoil, even at the ginger touch. They're "young", you might say, still sore from growing pains, and even the reflexive movement is enough to cause him to cringe. As Greed revels in his own inside joke, Sasha brings a hand up to his face as if he were to replace anything that had been disturbed by Greed's investigation.]

That's funny, coming from someone who touches others without warning.

[At the question, Sasha gives considerate pause. He turns his head and many pairs of eyes direct themselves at the light cast by the burning hearths in the distance and, for all of his nonchalance at Greed's predatory aura and his own coldness, gives what could be considered a broken-hearted sigh.]

...I slept all day. [Without meaning to, even though the daylight burns his eyes something fierce.] I'm in search of something to do.

[His eyes direct themselves at Greed once again.]

Something that will keep me out of trouble.

[Yet his tone implies a different sentence: he wishes to keep others out of trouble, especially with himself.]

[It's pretty clear that whatever they are, they're new. And tender. Greed retracts his hand as soon as the other grimaces. Whether or not it's from the touching or the sheer uncomfortable position of the new add-on(s) is unclear. The Sin settles his hands back into his pockets and moves back in the direction he's almost programmed to go towards.]

[Lights and sounds, promises of more just in the reach. He can practically feel his own core swirling back, though it's different now. A stone just the same, but it doesn't have that same type of energy as before. Not as warm, but a cool sort of clutching. Greed makes a comical frown as he turns over his shoulder to take a look at Sasha.] Oi, oi, oi - don't get any wild ideas.

[To the touching, he means. It's more curious than anything else and Greed, if anything, is always interested. In the new, in the impossible: this whole place is just full of it. The can't-be(s) and could-not(s). It's like a dinner bell chiming to that too-rotten center of his.] Slept all day? Ha - ! Well, I guess you and I have something in common.

[Sort of. A forcible sleep he had to grow getting used to. Which, to be honest, wouldn't be an easy task. But when the sun came up, he didn't have a choice. With his back to Sasha again, the Sin grits his teeth: choice. It's the one thing he's always sought out.]

[Yet, once again, that's been taken from him too.]

[He shrugs it off, though. Cooling to a simmer as he starts off towards town. The notion of keeping out of trouble isn't his forte, so he says nothing of it.] There's a whole world out there for the taking - [His voice is charming and smooth; slippery when wet and sultry with its sound. He practically rolls his R(s) in the back of his tongue.]

- I'm sure there's something we could find. That is, if you're still interested.

[What that something is, however, remains a mystery.]

[He stands stock-still for a long, long moment. He's frozen, almost like he's the one who is a gargoyle. A hiss escapes his lips and he takes a step back, on edge, every nerve in his body telling him to run, to get the hell out of there and fast, but Kimbley isn't an amateur. He's learned to ignore that particular instinct.

Some might call it rash, stupid, crazy, but he calls it being a soldier.

If nothing else, he's a good soldier.

Still, this is Greed-- and if he sees him, he's going to be pissed. This isn't good. He should walk away before he's heard, before he notices him, because even now, Kimbley doesn't think he's going to be able to take on the homunculus--]

Greed?

Eh-?

[One eye peels open lazily, letting the other fall under the weight of his brow. It's a confused sort of look. The kind that doesn't really fit the sharper angles that provide even sharper promises. Greed lifts his head ever-so-slowly. As if each motion takes some effort. For the most part, it's all just his own demeanor showing through. That carefree kind of attitude to the play the devil for his best fiddle.]

[He doesn't recognize the face, but with two-hundred years under his belt, he's bound to forgot one. Normally, they leave some sort of impression. But it could have been anyone - a passerby that wandered too far into Dublith's rather shit-side of town. Or a soldier who had been called to arms when the curtain call came and went. But considering he had been wearing another face, that seems highly unlikely.]

[Which left another choice. One that he cared not to tread too far down.] I'm surprised you knew that - gotta say, that's pretty impressive. [Greed's tone is a sultry purr. Gurgling in his throat, it seems to rise from his own deep-pit rather than the vocal chords that bind him. He turns towards the visitor with a toothy grin. Daggers to set, enough to keep 'em guessing.]

[And with his hand out, the one distinctly tattooed red, he flings his arm to the wind. Gesturing with flippant abandon despite any sort of predicament he may be waltzing into.] Sorry. I don't think you and I met, friend.

[But that doesn't stop him from coming in closer and the moonlight hits obsidian stone just so. Washing in, licking those distinctive shapes with a silvery tongue. The Sin dips himself low as he approaches; a making of his original design and the creature in favor, it's nothing less than predatory.] Since you already know mine, it seems to me I'm at least owed the favor.

[The behavior is off, somehow. It's subtle. Maybe it's this place, or maybe... he doesn't know. He's off just slightly, enough to make Kimbley tense up even more. The tone is the same, but it's off just enough that he flexes his hands without being aware of the motion.]

What's impressive about it? You were practically bragging when we met.

[And despite himself, despite the casual tone he's had about everything else, despite the fact that the last time he saw Greed, it had been standing side-by-side with Archer, Archer holding Greed's skull in a bag, and Kimbley flashing that vicious animal grin of his that made it clear to Greed in a moment that Kimbley had known what he was doing, despite all of that, he is now uncomfortably aware of just what he's up against.

He doesn't have anything to really take on Greed, not know. There's nothing but his own wits and hoping that just maybe he's fast enough he can get away before Greed can land a blow.]

I worked for you after you broke me out of the Fifth. The name's Zolf Kimbley.

[There had been a point when he maybe, maybe just slightly, considered Greed a friend. It's that fact alone that keeps the fear out of his voice.]

[Greed's claws hook around his chin. He presses his thumb into the dip and his lower lip purses. For a second, he's almost trying to recall - his had been a well-sized bunch, but they were distinct, abnormal. Different in their making and they had all been just that: his. And while at one point those memories had been snatched away, he knew them. Remembered them.]

[This one? He doesn't recognize. Even if his words hold some truth: "You were practically bragging when we met." The Sin's talons lift from his chin and click together, drawing another spark. He flips his hand to the wind, juts out his hip.] Fifth, huh?

[He's about to say something more. A step closer has his heel rolling first and the bend of his boot goes up. Slicing the air as he eases it back to the ground. It's then that he stops. The slight surprise is followed too-soon by an erratic snap. Greed's head lulls back and another bark escapes him. Mouth open wide and all of those teeth exposed.] Ha - ! [Another drop forward and his spine pops, his bones click.]

[Greed hooks his finger out to Kimbley. Curved with that claw of his as he gestures.] Kimbley? The Alchemist? Sorry pal - you and I haven't even met.

[In an instant, his tone takes on a sinister appeal. Nothing entirely threatening, not yet. Just a slight hiss. "I worked for you -"] Y'know, it's not very nice - lying to me. I've only been honest to you from the start. [Greed lifts his head and tilts it, allowing a glimpse at his throat. The stone is hitching there, rising with elongated precision. Like a fissure under pressure, it stays in suspended motion. Every so often, a thin length spider-webs out. But that's it.]

[For now, it looks like the transformation has taken a bit of a backseat.] So why don't we try that again, hmn? C'mon - I'm not interested in making this any messier than it has to be. [Greed raises his arms above his head as he speaks, a mock surrender. Really, he's not interested in the trouble.]

[But lying? Oh, that's just not on his list. There's just some rules and that happens to be one of them. Anyone who worked for him would have known that.]

[Which case: point.]

[Greed shoves his hands into his pockets and the loops to his slacks are easy to find. A motion practiced, known. His thumbs sag and gently scratch a line or two in their passing. It's hard to make out in the dark, but the noise is enough to paint a picture: carbon on leather sounds off with a terrible screech. Not unlike nails skating off the blank-face of a chalkboard.]

That's right. This wasn't that long ago.

[But that's when things get strange. The smug expression that he's had plastered on his face falters, watching Greed with wariness he can't hide now.

Greed doesn't lie.]

I've been nothing but honest with you. How else would I know your name? I was in that place for ten years before they tried to kill me to make the Philosopher's Stone.

[But he steps back again, tensing, and it's obvious that he's tensing because Greed is getting to him, making him nervous. He doesn't understand what's going on, doesn't know how to fix it, but he's worried now, watching those teeth, those eyes, like he's trying to stare down a threat he knows he can't face.]

You broke me out with the rest of them.

And then-- then we went to Dublith. You never entirely told me why, but that's where we went.

I'm not lying to you. What the hell would I get out of it?

Oi, oi, oi - [His voice drones out. The change in demeanor is far too easy to pinpoint. Like a flipped switch and Greed stills his movement for a second. Ten years - sure, Lab 5's design had been just for that. A place to further good ol'Pop's plan. He'd been there only twice in his long time living - the first had been when he still ran with the rest of them. But by that point, his avarice had already been pulling him in a different direction. Leading him elsewhere, far away. He hadn't been too focused on what was inside, only that it held somethings worth stealing in the future.]

[The second time, he had done just that.] You've got it all wrong, friend. You weren't there. [Another prison, sure. The story of The Crimson Alchemist hadn't gone on deaf ears - Greed knew him, saw the papers, and didn't pay it much mind. The military was a show within a show. It didn't really matter what they said.]

[In the end, it was all just one big lie meant to cover up the truth. There hadn't been a need to dig further.]

[Yet here they are. Greed's eyes narrow behind his sunglasses and a simmer of red briefly flicks between the glass.] I was in Dublith for a long time, pal. Anyone who went there would have heard the story eventually.

I'm not interested in hurting you and besides you're right - [This time, the Sin straightens. His shoulders roll back, the fur at his collar caresses at the angle of his jaw. He's staring Kimbley down and as the dark takes his face, that red glow pierces through his shades again. Humming for a second and fading when he waltzes right under the pale moonlight.] - there's no benefit in lying to me. I make it a point not to lie. Call it one of my rules.

[Now, though, he's close. A foot of breathing room between himself and the Alchemist. Greed slouches a bit to get on his level, to stare at those unfamiliar eyes. No - it isn't one of his. Couldn't be. They didn't keep anything from before, no scrap of their former lives to bring on home. There had been no love lost between his rag-tag gang and those high up on Central hill. But this one - he claimed he was a State Alchemist, a pretty infamous one at that. And that blue - ]

[Greed's claws skate across the epaulets on Kimbley's shoulder, bouncing when he lets them and catching when he forgets.] I've got nothing against you and yours, friend. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time one of your wandered a little too south. I'm not about to hold it against ya.

I was there.

[He's aware his expression is much too insolent. It makes him look younger than he is, but he can't help it.]

That- that--

[And he catches himself before he can insult the chimera.]

Martel went after the soldiers who had me cornered. I assume under your orders.

I know you don't lie; that's why I don't--

[What the hell is going on? He doesn't jerk away from Greed's touch, and that might be the only sign that he actually does know the homunculus, because while his nerves are jangling and his heart is in his throat, the fear is coming from not understanding how Greed doesn't recognize him. It's almost like they're talking about two separate events, but that can't be possible.]

You wanted to grab the kid in the suit of armor. Alphonse. The one who's a soul attachment.

[But Kimbley is wearing the uniform Archer got him. If only he still had that suit...]

So we grabbed him. At the old lady's house.

[And he leaves it at that, because if Greed responds to that with confusion, with another command not to lie, Kimbley isn't going to know how to respond. He has only the faintest notion on what went down between them, but Kimbley is an alchemist; he can hazard a guess.]

[Greed tips his hand in the opposite direction and mindless plucks the blue strings that have stuck to the sharps of his claws. He listens to the story at first, as if that'll somehow clear things up. Unfortunately, it does just the opposite.] - Martel? You've got that all wrong.

[Martel took orders, sure. She wouldn't say no to him - none of them would. They were his possessions, but even now he knows that's not entirely it. Something more, something deeper. He hadn't realized that until it was too late. None of that matters now, though.]

[Greed's suddenly too still. As if he's gone straight back to stone, but the twitch of movement behind his sunglasses, the position of his talons - ]

[ - they say otherwise.] That's true. I had been interested. After all, immortality's the top of the list. [Or it was. It may still be. Greed jerks his hand away and one of the metal pieces on the epaulet comes with him. As easy as a knife to butter.]

[And while he's still got a grin, there's a grimness to his tone. Threatening now, rumbling from his own deep pit despite the carefree nature. Only a select few would know Martel and considering Kimbley's position, he's instantly placed in the second category. The boot-stomps that brought his whole kingdom crashing down with his first demise quick to follow.] Old lady - ? Sorry - that's not how it went.

[Greed pulls away, mimicking a serpent in his retreat. His body dips, his torso hitches inward. He's face on with Kimbley now and the frown that's there stays. The former homunculus lowers his hand to his side and the metal piece in his claws clinks as it rolls from one finger to the next. Back and forth.] Is that what they told you? [It's the only inkling he can think of - a soldier taking the name of an infamous Alchemist to somehow strike a chord. A nameless face in a sea of them, storming the 'Nest and raining bullets to wring it dry. Greed's teeth settle and his lips split.]

[But the grin he's wearing? It's forced.] Now, that really isn't very nice. You should know a bit better. [Finally, his sunglasses slip and there they are. Ghostly eyes, akin to a chilled viper staring back. The crystals on the side have started to form, but the process is slow even now.]

A little rude, but I can't say I blame you. I'm gunna guess that's what Bradley told you, right? [Which should have been cleared up by now. Bradley had turned from hailed Fuhrer to villain for any of those who made it to the Promised Day. Greed felt the piece of metal splinter in his fingers and he let the bits dribble from his hand.] Eh-

[He shrugs back. It's no use killing him; it's Bradley he's really after. Top of the list of his would-be kin and oh, did Wrath get the easy way out. Pleasant smiles and a death he didn't deserve. The Sin's snarling before he realizes it, but a quick fling of his hands makes it disappear.] - doesn't matter. But you're still not being honest with me. That's a little rude.

[It's no use, it seems. Eventually, a lie can be told so long that many think it to be the truth. The Sin slips his fingers into the back of his leathers and his knuckles bounce and scratch against the stone fingering up his spine. He rolls his foot away, making to take off towards town.] He didn't survive, y'know.

[With that said, Greed raises an arm. Signalling off with a cock-snap of the wrist, he turns back to his prior destination.]

[What's going on?

He saw the way Greed looked at her, had made the connections quickly in his mind.

Greed kept a skull in a safe. the skull had turned to dust in the bag because it had been Greed's skull and he had been dead. And Greed deliberately sought out the old woman who lived isolated in a house, an old woman who just so happened to be an alchemist.

He wants to argue, wants to press the point, but he doesn't care to.]

Who's 'they?'

[The comment about Bradley is confusing. That's not a name Greed ever used. Didn't he always call him "Pride"? But that's not important, because he feels like he's missing something key here, something he needs to know the answer to. Somehow, they're discussing two different events.

Kimbley lies all the time, though never directly and not without purpose. Besides that, he had no reason to lie to Greed in this place.

Maybe, though, maybe there's a way to confirm what happened.]

I don't care what happens to Bradley.

[That's honest enough.]

Say I am lying. What would you say happened? Enlighten me to correct the misinformation I've heard.

[Maybe he'll get Greed to turn around again. Though more likely he's about to pick a fight he's going to regret.]

[Greed stops again in mid-stride. His heel's up, allowing his body to hunch over like the very gargoyle he's become. And slowly, his smile parts again.] If you worked for me, you should already know: that's not how it works.

[But Kimbley's good at setting a hook and oh, he just can't help but bite. The Sin gestures with his hand again. Wild yet cool in his expression. His index goes skyward and draws a circle. One, two, three times - until it stops still.] Equivalent exchange - you remember that one, right?

[All Alchemists did. Nothing's free in this world or the next. It's a statement that the Sin can live by. Everything has a price, everything has value.]

[That hasn't changed. Not here, not before.] You tell me what I want to know and in exchange - [He turns then to face the other and the pieces of metal from before crunch under foot. He applies the pressure, pushing the tip of his boot down to flatten what dregs of grass are left.] - I'll tell you what I know.

First thing's first though. [Greed places his hand to his face, showing off that signature tattoo of his. With the black of his skin, it almost hums there like a beacon. A sign of his making, at least his original one.:]

[The serpent. Constantly consuming its own tail to swallow itself whole.]

[He finds the silver piece at his nose and gingerly grasps it. As if the item is almost a treasure and he peels them off slowly. One roll of the thumb flips an earpiece closed and he shoves the other into the cuff of his vest. With his pair gone, those eyes really open and the slits thin out, then expand. In the end, he's a predator even with his status stripped from him.]

[He flicks a glance back to Kimbley.] Sounds fair, no?

[No, it's not how it works. He knew that the moment he opened up his mouth. He watches Greed, wary, but he's not afraid, not really. Now now. Something is going on here, something he isn't entirely certain that he's going to ever understand.]

Equivalent Exchange, huh? [But he's smiling (almost smiling) a dangerous smile. These are rules he's familiar with, rules he doesn't mind continuing to follow, not really. He's always been a believer in the principle.]

Then what do you want to know?

[If the same story he's been telling isn't working, he'll think of something else. He's not going to lie, not to Greed, not now. Not when he's pretty sure that Greed could do serious damage to him. The silver is enough to make him wary. He's not entirely certain he wants it touching his bare skin.

But he stares back at Greed like he's used to being watched, and for a moment he once again feels like Zolf Kimbley, the mad bomber, the military's dirty little secret.]

I'll tell you whatever you want.

Edited 2014-10-01 02:05 (UTC)

It's a fair deal. [Greed watches back with a coiling lip. Whoever it is, they seem to know exactly how the game is played. Information for information - it's almost as if he had been working for him, but that's impossible. He never had an Alchemist in the 'Nest.]

[After, well - that's an entirely different story.] You said you knew Martel - [A flash seems to go between his eyes and a brief narrowing follows. He hadn't seen how it ended, but he knows all-too-well of her fate. The Sin touches the roof of his mouth briefly.] And who else? Me and mine don't let that kind of information slip.

[Especially not to a State Alchemist, but he leaves that out. He didn't really care one way or the other, but they did. Any trust in their government vanished as soon as they brought their broken bodies down into the lab. A promise that had turned false and through their misery, they made it out.]

[Greed'd be lying if he said that wasn't something to admire.] You know what they were then, didn't you. But for someone out of Laboratory Five, you don't really look like a Chimera. [Nor did he smell much like one. Which again, points to option B. A promise is a promise though, and Greed's always stuck to his deals. Even if they were and are always pointed in his favor.]

So - they didn't use you for that. So, what? You escaped with the rest of them and I was the one who broke you out? [Not to his recollection. Rumor and first-hand intel was that Kimbley had been released under government order. And he had been wrestled into the rest of the seven-deadlies: to further the plan, to keep the ball rolling and rolling.]

[This one? Doesn't seem like the same guy.]

Edited 2014-10-01 02:11 (UTC)

[He thinks, briefly, of how to answer the question. There had been several, but the majority of them were people whose names he'd never bothered to learn. But he did know the names of a few.

He holds up one hand, ticking off the names on his fingers.]

There was Bido, Dorochet, and... Roa, I think his name was. There were a few others but we never spoke. Didn't catch their names.

[Making up names would go against the deal he made at any rate. He'd rather not risk having things get heated between them. Not when the fact that Kimbley is still in military uniform. There's an implication there that he's uncomfortably aware of.]

I'm not a chimera.

[It's a bit too defensive and he looks too on guard, but it has nothing to do with them, not really.]

Like I told you, I was supposed to be used to create the Philosopher's Stone. Some thing that looked like the man running the place had us all brought out into this holding cell made of red water. I didn't have any plans of trying to escape until some bastard accused me of lying.

I blew him up and escaped while the rest were distracted. Couldn't tell you what was going on in the floor below and honestly I don't care. I assume the rest of the prisoners were rounded up and killed, but I escaped.

That's when you showed up and offered me a job working for you.

[It's entirely truthful, but it's also the same story hes been telling, just with more details now.]

What you were doing there, I couldn't tell you. I never asked.

[The list checks out: Bido, Dolcetto, Roa, Martel. Four aces in Kimbley's set and Greed's eerily still and silent as he hears the story. But that's the only thing that rings true. The red water, the prison escape - the details are there, but there are pieces missing, situations changed. It hadn't been an all out show when he stole the group in question. An easy slip in and out before anyone caught wind of 'em.]

[And by then, it had been too little too late without even a piece of evidence to send them nipping at his heels.] That's not what I remember. [And he doesn't like that fact. With the purification in recent memory, the differences in stories strikes a chord that he doesn't like. Greed's lip momentarily threatens a snarl, but it doesn't quite get there.] Sounds like a pretty good story, but that isn't how it goes. I never had an alchemist. Least, not at first.

[Intel for intel - he knows the drill.] We were in Dublith for a while. A rumor from Central caught my attention - [A murderer and a suit of armor. It drifted in from whisper to whisper until it finally, as always, came back to him. Everything came back to him eventually. The underworld had been his turf, his kingdom.]

[And those in it had known that fact all too well.] Working for me, huh. I don't hire just anyone. [The Sin's nails pitter-pattered across the edge of his thighs. The more Kimbley explains, the more he's conflicted. Interested, but cautious. He hasn't seen anyone else around and it'd be stupid of them to try anything now.]

[Besides, they've always been a little more upfront.] So - you survived Dublith, then?[It's where one should tread a bit lightly. History's a bad maker and if anything, Greed's not too keen on traveling down that road.]

[But it seems there really isn't much of a choice there.]

Greed | Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood | OTA | late to this party

yo! this is senketsu-mun lol

LOL hey you!

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canon au headaches are always fun aren't they?

this is going to be a disaster

I regret nothing

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hit enter too soon

no sweat! just let me know if this works for ya

works for me!

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...I'm sorry for literally everything about this

it's all good!

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