You don't know the half of it, lovely.

[And he's watching her: the ease in which she shrugs out of her coat, how she tosses her hair over her shoulder like she's done this whole routine a thousand times. Greed pushes his drink to the side and as she offers her hand, he eases out of the barstool with a slip to his movements; his whole body stretching and settling as effortlessly as an uncoiling viper.]

[He carefully takes her hand, mindful of his claws.] Mn, now that all depends. Suppose I'll have to let you be the judge of that. [The Sin slowly shifts away from the bar - the teasing tap of his nail, a silent gesture to follow him.] Why don't you show me exactly what you want? And if I disappoint, I owe you part of your tab. [Even against the thud of a constant bass beat, his voice purrs deep. It sits in his chest as solid as a stone; one quaking, humming, to the proposition.]

[Because he'll never deny anyone. Least, not most people. And she's just full with all the confidence in the world to hook him in.]

[Greed sways backwards on his heels and as he begins the short walk to the dance floor, he leers in close.] The name's Greed. A pleasure -