Heather Mason (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
foolishwren) wrote2014-07-26 12:18 pm
foolishwren) wrote2014-07-26 12:18 pm
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RYSLIG IC Contact Post
WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, ROADKILL ROOSTER. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 007.14.007.17 *** ROADKILL ROOSTER has joined 007.14.007.17 <ASSMUNCH45> wat up gurl!!!!!!!!!!! <BANNED USER> SCREENED MESSAGE. UNSCREEN? Y/N -- B& MOTHAFUCKA <CREATURECOMFORTS> Are YOU interested in not having to worry about basic needs? Have we got the job for YOU. Click to read more... <SHOVEL_GUY> hey heather are you getting weird ads for going to live with rich people too?? | ||||
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[It's the very reason he's here, after all.]
[While it may not be visible with the distance, the former homunculus lazily lulls his head back. His actions are all a'flare: a drama unfolding with enough over-exaggeration and theatrics to put the best to shame. A single, elongated groan wheezes up his throat and as his sunglasses dip their toes between shadow and sunshine, Greed shuffles his heels. His walk, slow and purposeful.]
If I knew you were going to be a pissant about it, I wouldn't have bothered. You do remember who you work for, right? [Dust mattes the black of his boots. It's true that most of their business tends to be a more shady affair. Be it Li's exchanges, a trip to Bavan, something else. However, the bazaar - it's alight. Odd trinkets lace over carts and stalls alike; the appearance of them, a parody of treasures, strung in plastic. The former homunculus slinks by an open-face grill. He tests his tail against one of his wheels and soon after, an exhaust of fire springs up from the coils - forcing the meat in the skillet, hissing to a roast. Thankfully, the vendor's well-versed in the town's notoriety and whatever he's cooking is saved by some practiced, quick-paced motions.]
[Out of the pan, into the fire, and isn't that just their norm.]
[Greed saddles up a heel. He pauses by one, particular table. A strange, mismatched assortment fans atop its surface. Rings, necklaces, plastic beads in a variety of colors. The Sin leers on over and as his hand hovers, he gently starts to shuffle through the mess; the look of him, like that of a magpie, picking out its favorites.] Hey Mason - what about this? [He questions. The object in his hand is thin and gold - its handle, modestly decorated. The former homunculus gives his wrist a quick flick and as his bones jerk to a still, the blade inside immediately snaps out.] Oh - ? Not bad, not bad. [A charmed whistle tickles his lip - those eyes of his, wild and focused.] How much, friend?
[The shopkeeper behind the table rubs his chin. Djävulenstad may have its roots in the devil, but even so? Nothing ever, ever, comes free.] Ah, you have a keen eye, Mr. Greed. Of course, that should go without saying. [The man squints his mouth - as if, somehow, he trying to read the price from a sheer look alone.] I'm sure you can take it off my hands for, lets say - fifty pieces. More than a bargain.
[Greed's grin glints and all-too-obviously, the seller changes his tune.] Ahaha - ! I mean, why, what am I thinking. Thirty and its yours.
Consider it a deal. [The Sin shuffles through his pockets. He drops a bag onto the table not a second later; its heavy payload, chiming an extra.] Keep the rest. I'm sure it goes without saying - if any of mine need something, you'll give them the same treatment, won't you?
[The man waves his hand - his cheeks, a flustered red.] Yes, yes, yes. Just have them show their credentials. [As if to clarify, the keeper pulls back his collar. The tattoo on the side of his neck stands out against his skin; its calling card, as black as a note, shuffled through back-alley hands. The Sin tilts his head in response. His sneer, keen and slit.] I'll make sure to let them know.
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[But the second he says her name, out she pops again, several aisles down from the one she vanished down.]
[She's got the ugliest fur scarf around her neck-- someone, somehow, tie-dyed it. Possibly after bleaching the original color out of it.]
[She'd been going to see if she could manage to drape it around Greed's shoulders without him noticing, but glinting golden object in his claws catches her attention instantly.]
Oooooh shit...
[Uh, YEAH, she wants that.]
[Can't take her larger blade everywhere, after all... it pays to have smaller ones. And she does. But none as nice as that one.]
[She lets Greed do his brief haggle, but holds up the horrifying scarf afterwards, making her golden eyes as LUMINOUS AND ENDEARING AS POSSIBLE.]
Can we get this too? It needs to go on Rosie the Riveter.
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[The knife clips closed and the Sin turns back to Mason.] Hmn - ? Don't see why not. [He shrugs. The curls of his fingers spin the blade's handle idly, twice. It grazes his knuckles like a breeze's sharp lick; each pass, causing a thin flit of fire to ash away at his scales. Finally, though, his claws snatch out and with a single crck, he still it.] Is that the only thing you had in mind? I'm sure our friend might appreciate it better.
[Stocke, he means. And if there's a glint of a sneer on his mouth, if there's a bit of snark in his tone, well. They already know, don't they.]
[How they have a friend in the devil.]
[Greed raises his arm, sending the clap-closed knife a'hurtling.] See if you can get it on him without him noticing. That's your next job. [A tease of amusement bakes in the bob of his throat. Of course, Stocke's no easy catch. He can easily disappear through walls. He can float away and dart. Ah, but Mason - she's clever, isn't she? More than some, more than most. No, she's the perfect one for the job and as the Sin pockets his hands, the tip of his tail gives off an excitable rattle; the look of it more similar to a cat, vibrating its pleasure.]
Unless, of course, you don't think you're up for the job -
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Are you kidding me?
I was born for this job.
[She snatches the knife out of the air with both hands, not bothering to disguise how pleased she is with the gift-- it's a looker, that's for sure. And generous though he may be, Greed giving things out for free is a rare occasion.]
[Then she flicks the blade out to emphasize her salute.]
I will have this hideous thing on him before you can say 'flower power'.
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Want a little suggestion? Have someone else distract him first. I'm sure Rosch would be more than happy to lend a hand, if you asked. [Teasing. The former homunculus stretches his legs. The way he walks, the lift of his voice; there's a kind of skip in his step. A bounce both light and clipped, as sure as bird, proudly parading itself.]
C'mon. There's more up there that we haven't checked out yet. [Greed swings his heel and a small lift of heat cooks the cobblestone below a blushing, puckered pink. No, their lulls? They're certain far and in-between. But perhaps, perhaps.]
[That's what makes it all, all, worth it.]
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[HE'S A VERY EFFECTIVE DISTRACTION.]
[
ESPECIALLY FOR STOCKE.][She hops along after Greed, pace even jauntier than before. Whether there's actual business or just more window-shopping, today is a Good Day already.]
[SHE JUST HAS ONE QUESTION:]
Hey-- are tacos still on the table? I feel like they should be.
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[The results are more than enough to satisfy.]
[Greed tosses his chin skyward.] Ha - ! I'm sure you could. Doesn't take much convincing, does it? Him and Stocke - [The bulk of his tongue winds behind his teeth. It smacks once at the back of them - the flickering forks, all but forcing a flurry of sparks to play on his lip.] - they go pretty far back. If anyone can distract him, I think our friend there's the best for the job.
[As for that other business - the former homunculus shrugs his shoulders.] Don't see why not. Just make sure you don't get any near me, hmn? Salt tends to be a bit of a problem. [Not that she can't indulge. There are plenty of food stalls to choose from. She can find one she likes, take from it. And in the meantime? Well.]
[It's not like Sin doesn't have an itch for more.]
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I keep forgetting about that.
[She's honestly not sure she could deal with life as a demon. A life without seasoning sounds like a freaking nightmare. So she takes a moment to just kind of feel really sad about the fact that Greed literally can't even eat a potato chip.]
[... unless they can find FRESH potato chips with no salt on them yet.]
BOSS.
I'm gonna find a saltless snack!
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[Still, Mason. He can practically feel the pity, rolling off her. A note, a hint, and ah, ah.]
[Isn't it just sympathy for the devil.]
[Greed shoulders hunch together and the fur around his collar rises behind his neck; the expression of it, more similar to that of groggy bird, stretching out its feathers.] Really caught up on that, aren't you? [He loosens one his elbows, allowing his fingers to splay open on the swing of his wrist.] It isn't that big of a deal, y'know. But if you're really set on it, well - [Again, the roll of his tongue finds his teeth. Truth is, the more he thinks on it; he's missing out, isn't he? On the small little things, on the tiny details lost by his insatiable tide. Eventually? Eventually.]
[Even the slimmest slivers begin to tally up.]
[The former homunculus idly pats the pads of his fingers; his look, now, as sharp as prick of sunlight, fastening itself to the rear-end of a bumper.] I guess you have a point. All right, brat. [The Sin glides his ankle and as his wings shrink at his back, he opens a space by his side. A wordless suggestion, sly and cool.]
Lead the way.
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[With a confident flick of the tail, she takes the offered space, and off they go.]
[Unfortunately, and to be honest unsurprisingly, there's little success to be found at first. This is Djavulenstad, the Devil's City. The street food is second to none. Tempting, indulgent, dripping in grease... and enough salt to kill Satan.]
[Mason goes from stand to stand, squinting HARD at the offerings and occasionally glancing back up to Greed for input. But salt is hard to avoid.]
[EVENTUALLY... there is a health food stand.]
[With plain rice cakes and a skinny little man who looks both excited and nervous to have not just a Nester but the Devil himself before him.]
[Mason, on the other hand...]
Rice cakes?
Seriously??
Oh my god.
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[Greed's eyebrow quips and with a bent-over twist, he lulling(ly) catches up with her again. At first, he doesn't notice the man nor does he notice his excitement. It's her disdain that catches him first and as Mason's tone bristles disgust, the Sin's lower lip rolls out; his expression, as blank and confused as an animal, skittering in front of a car.]
Ah - ? A rice cake, huh? Never had one before. [One by one, his fingers sink in his hips; allowing him to leer over like a scavenging bird, sizing up a scrap. He's heard of them before - somewhere in Ryslig, before. Yet, trying one? That's a different story. And while Heather may be less inclined, the former homunculus lets out a curious hum; his spread out knees clocking, just clocking, with interest.]
[Appetizing as it may not be, it's a new opportunity, isn't it?]
[Greed pats his boot.] Get two. Couldn't be that bad, right?
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What? Really?
Are you s--...
Okay.
[Not gonna argue with the bossman.]
[She holds up two talons.]
Two.
... And if you have any seasoning that doesn't have salt in it, throw it on.
[After a "YES RIGHT AWAY" and some hasty sprinkling of spices, Heather and Greed are now in the possession of two (2) rice cakes! Insert Legend of Zelda item obtaining tune here.]