[Like a cold breeze blowing, the Sin looks up at his counterpart. Avarice and jealousy are so close, yet so far apart that it's easy for that loathing to build up in him like bile. Maybe once, they could have reconciled. But that was before. Before Wrath had stripped him of everything, before they all looked on at the marvel of his undoing. That's the thing about sins of the past - they come back to haunt, don't they?]
[And now, here they are. Here he is. That snide smile of his tainted with the absolute cruelty of distance and disregard.]
Yeah, I'm sure you'd be all too quick to do that, wouldn't you? Just to save your own ass.
[But then Envy says truce, treaty, sign, and Greed's eyes go incredibly wide. However, it isn't surprise that has him looking that way. Oh, no. It's something far more sinister. Far more wicked. The former homunculus sinks into the other side of the bar and his body practically coils into the mold of the countertop; like he's the final puzzle piece putting the whole picture together.]
[He grabs Envy's drink by the brim, digging tiny holes into the edge like pock marks.] Would you? Do anything? Be careful what you ask for, Little Envy. [A twitch of static snaps on his tongue, making the inside of his cheek light up like bones on an X-Ray.] Tell me, can you still change? Can you still do everything you could before all this?
[He asks like he almost knows. He doesn't, of course not. But a terrible kind of hope begins to fester in his chest. It bubbles there as sure as hot tar and expands, growing, growing, growing until it pops sizzling in the back of his throat.]
[Because oh, oh if Envy doesn't. If he's facing the same kind of slowness he's been facing or worse: wouldn't that be the cherry on the fucking cake? The gold-plated topper to finish it all off.]
[And with that thought, his whole demeanor changes. The ice melts away, replaced with a burn that craves satisfaction. That craves payment. Greed's face contorts with the blaze; his craze subtle, yet no less deadly. He takes what he's poured and throws it back completely: all its bitterness, its vile taste, coating his throat.]
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[And now, here they are. Here he is. That snide smile of his tainted with the absolute cruelty of distance and disregard.]
Yeah, I'm sure you'd be all too quick to do that, wouldn't you? Just to save your own ass.
[But then Envy says truce, treaty, sign, and Greed's eyes go incredibly wide. However, it isn't surprise that has him looking that way. Oh, no. It's something far more sinister. Far more wicked. The former homunculus sinks into the other side of the bar and his body practically coils into the mold of the countertop; like he's the final puzzle piece putting the whole picture together.]
[He grabs Envy's drink by the brim, digging tiny holes into the edge like pock marks.] Would you? Do anything? Be careful what you ask for, Little Envy. [A twitch of static snaps on his tongue, making the inside of his cheek light up like bones on an X-Ray.] Tell me, can you still change? Can you still do everything you could before all this?
[He asks like he almost knows. He doesn't, of course not. But a terrible kind of hope begins to fester in his chest. It bubbles there as sure as hot tar and expands, growing, growing, growing until it pops sizzling in the back of his throat.]
[Because oh, oh if Envy doesn't. If he's facing the same kind of slowness he's been facing or worse: wouldn't that be the cherry on the fucking cake? The gold-plated topper to finish it all off.]
[And with that thought, his whole demeanor changes. The ice melts away, replaced with a burn that craves satisfaction. That craves payment. Greed's face contorts with the blaze; his craze subtle, yet no less deadly. He takes what he's poured and throws it back completely: all its bitterness, its vile taste, coating his throat.]