[He's halfway through peeling a board off the window of his new bar when he hears the question. The wood cracks under the pressure of his claws and as he yanks at it with one, final pull, it gives way, leaving splintering bits and cocked-crooked nails to meet the rest of the garbage on the street.]

Hmn? [Greed drops the wooden plank and shakes his wrist to remove any stubborn bits stuck to his nails. Truth be told, he's a little surprised by what he sees when he tips his head over his shoulder. Not that the High and Righteous types aren't allowed down below, but this one's all wild gestures, odd movements, and nothing that he's saying makes a lick of sense.]

[Still, he looks a little desperate, doesn't he?]

[The Sin flattens one of his four hands along the dip of his shoulder to knead at a stiff spot.] Oi, oi. Slow down for a second, would ya? [He's trying to catch up on everything Fizz is saying: big guy, purple, rooster tail, one (no three) faces. The former homunculus finds the spot, presses it, and a deep, pleased rumble teases in his chest.] Ah - sorry, friend. Haven't run into someone like that. [Slipping two of his claws into his pocket, Greed goes to pinch the lip of half-bent cigarette pack.]

[He pulls out two smokes in between his knuckles.] Let's start with a name, huh? Who's this person you're looking for?