mandalus :: the city of fates.

[There's a pulse of static, a whip-lash of movement that's hard to make out. As if the feed itself is caught in some sort of whirlwind before landing with an audible clack. And a shiver cuts the recording, the fingers of a crack forming up the side as the device finally stills.]

[But the voices don't stop; some are muffled, gargled and spit back on the recording. But there's a catch of a ceiling light. Cased in steel, swinging on the threads of an old chain. Rocking back and forth to cast shadows in rolling directions. Like the rocking of a ship on bad waters.]

"This one's just a pain in the ass, boss."

[The voice that comes through is thick; heavy with the accent of the slum and punctuated by a rolling glob of spit. A wet sort of sound that comes paired with a set of boots. Heels caught in the feed, old military spec. From where or what time period is questionable at best.]

"Ain't like he's being cooperative."

[A tolling of chains on the line; a rattling like old bones before a resounding thud makes for eerie silence. And there's a man; fully dawned in the Serpent's banners with metal clinks binding him still. Head cast down, breathing hollowly with both legs cast out in either direction. When he speaks, it's as if the words are caught in his throat. Dragged through like heavy anchors.]

"I'm not telling you anything."

[And it's as if the statement is a calling card; a Siren's pull and there's the signature clacking of heels. A slow gait, toe over toe. The kind made for creatures like him. And as the feed buzzes out briefly, the catch of a curved-toe boot slides into the recording. Slices up to saunter against the side.]

Oh-? See, I didn't want to have to do that, friend. [Greed lowers himself to a crouch; thighs cast out ten and two to let a pair of hands sink between them. And for a second, there's a lick of black against his fingertips. A shivering of a pulse, though that could be a trick of the feed.]

I'm not interested in hurting you, but it wasn't like you gave me much choice. I don't let anyone take what's mine.

[A rolling of the shoulder, shades pitches of black. Empty sockets that stare back - that seem locked on target without a quiver of movement.]

[But all too soon, he's exposing a wrist. Fanning out his fingers, wristbands slipping down to the thick part of his arm.] After all, the name is Greed.

[There's a tapping of a foot; the military-issued boots shifting. One heel sliding up to grace an ankle.]

"I really don't think he's worth the time, Boss - "

( ... )

WARNINGS|
➥ TL;DR
➥ Implied violence

[The feed opens up and there's a flickering light-bulb; one that shudders and sparks under some bad wiring only to hum out to a low simmer. For the briefest of seconds, it ignites that room in question: there's a nightstand, a few other odds and ends, but plenty of darkness to coat the feed back to black.]

[It's only when a match is ignited that the newly-familiar smile lights up. Illuminated in all of the flavors hell has to offer; reds and oranges spark at the tip and the Sin grips the end of a cigarette in his jaws. Threatens to grind the butt to dust, but doesn't.]

Well - [He speaks, voice the usually hum of a purr - the every-present dripping of blatant desire.] - that was interesting.

[He waves the thought away with the smoothness of a criminal, with the casual air that speaks of his core. That rotten sort of pit that's already pushing and pulling deep below the surface.] Never was very interested in that sort of thing.

[As Greed speaks, he lurches forward. Bends with a snap-jerk of his spine as both feet grind into the floor. The cigarette is plucked from the corner of his mouth and shoved into a tray nearby. Ground out so the last of the embers sputter off into the small collection.] So now that there's a pause - [Shades sink into that impenetrable black, but the Sin's smile grows. Expands and shows off a jagged set of razors. Like an angler fish beckoning in the watery depths: "Come and see."]

[But while the man in question moves with that devilish flow, he lightly taps the side of his skull in a playful sort of gesture. Two-fingers seared together to knock against his temple.] Didn't expect it when I got here, but The Devil's Nest is available to any of you that could use a drink. [Eyes back to the feed and there's the briefest cut of red light behind those round shades; could be a trick from the faulty wiring, could be something else entirely.]

[But the Sin speaks nothing about it. Instead, he shoots those two fingers off from his skull, snaps in the direction of the recording.] Considering the week we've had, I may be inclined to do you the favor. [Because no - nothing in this world or the next is free.]

Tell me your story and if it's good enough, I'll see what I can do. [Another pair of hands reaches out from behind; painted, delicate. Ivory in color with a brandished wash of make-up. Nails sharpened and painted in a red used for a particular trade. An age-old tradition.]

[Greed's lips screw shut, curve at the corners to make arrows of the skin. The woman behind him is a petite blonde; hair forced into heavy curls and she gently slides one of her hands into the feed to pass along a healthy portion of scotch on the rocks.] Ah - right. Almost forgot -

[Scotch in one hand, the homunculus reaches for his collarbone. Sinks in his fingers there and hums:] - the name's Greed. Consider this a one time offer.

[Video opens with a snap-click and the feed's recording sideways; ground below's a little dusty and the horizontal up-flip doesn't catch too much at first.]

[But there's a bit of a commotion.]

[A gathered group - the whole cloak and dagger kind - and it seems they've already struck. Recoil and put on the breaks though and that little gathering? Is quickly taking a few back-steps.]

[A heel catches, tosses the recording again and a full picture buzzes on a crackling line. While it's bright - a little brighter than should be expected - the sunlight catches in pools of blood. Splatters arched and sketched on the brick-face of a building like a crude painting.]

( ... )

OOC | WARNINGS, ETC
♠ VIOLENCE