maskormenacelogs | Gonna burst into flame, go ahead

Entry tags:

Gonna burst into flame, go ahead

WHO: Anyone assisting in the Civil War Museum rescue thanks Lucifer
WHERE: the Civil War Museum, I hope
WHEN: 3/10, afternoon? correct me if I'm wrong
WHAT: BIG DAMN HEROES and/or screwups
WARNINGS: arson, civilians trapped in a burning building, will edit further warnings if necessary

Emma was more of a natural second-in-command, but she didn't see a leader emerging anywhere--civilian fire fighters or police officers hardly counted--and lord knew she had experience with getting a crowd of independent sorts to work together...by fair means or foul. Standing in front of the building, very visible in her impractical X-Men uniform, Emma reached out to the imPort minds she could feel nearby, the exertion of using her telepathic talent to do so many things at once starting cause the pink-white aura that was the visible signature of her power to dance in and around her eyes.

I'm Emma Frost. I'll be coordinating rescue efforts. Her telepathic voice came through strong and assured, along with a mental image of herself, tall, blond, and dressed in revealing white, with the encircled X of her team logo located rather questionably directly over her cleavage. For those of you who don't know me, I'm a telepath, and the joint leader of the X-Men, a superhero team in my home universe. For the moment you've been deputized, and given that I have high standards, congratulations are in order.

The speed of thought was fast enough for Emma's brand of dry wit not to use up too much time, but she switched to practical matters without more than a passing delay for banter. Our priorities are lives and keeping the fire from spreading, but after that we can let the local talent feel useful and put it out. Apprehending our arsonist can wait. If you need to talk to someone else on the team, just think it and I'll pass it on. This is functionally a mental conference call.

...All right, darlings, let's get started.

OOC: Right, so, this is a group log, and the threads don't have to include Emma. She's going to be a Useful Plot Device the way telepaths always are and make sure everyone has an excuse to thread with whoever they want and know things they might not otherwise not be able to find out. If your character is immune to psi or you otherwise don't want Emma in their heads, that's fine, too. Just specify so that no one assumes. And now I have to go cook dinner so I won't even be the first thread in my own log. ;___;

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

option 1. [during rescue]

[ It's surprising to her, to sense someone reaching into her mind, but it's not the first time it's happened, and despite the flurry of activity in the vicinity, she's fairly calm. She's aware of her physical limits, and lets other heroes take point on physically evacuating civilians and securing exits. Instead, she focuses on those who've already been evacuated, moving from one group of shaken civilians to the next to calm them down as best as she can and direct them to help as they need it. Despite the harried expressions most of them have, they listen to her, something in her earnestness catching their attention. It's like she knows just the right thing to say.

In some cases, the help is more than just emotional. From time to time, she'll touch a hand, or an arm, and someone who was looking exhausted or dead on their feet will suddenly straighten, like they've suddenly regained their strength.

Across the mental channel, all she says is If you start to feel tired or your powers are getting weaker, I can help. ]

option 2. [post-rescue]

[ Despite not being in the conflagration herself, Yako's been in the area long enough that the smell of smoke has thoroughly gotten into her clothes, and her hair's even more of a mess than usual. She's also looking visibly tired from the strength she's been lending other people all afternoon, and once everyone's out and things are calmer, she can finally have a moment to herself, rubbing a hand against her grimy face as her stomach rumbles. ]

So much for my birthday dinner...

[ ooc; yako's power allows her to temporarily enhance/boost someone else's powers (or, if inapplicable to a specific power, she can revitalize their physical endurance). ]

Edited 2014-03-11 11:48 (UTC)

[He's been following her all day and, truth be told, this isn't what he expected. The game plan had been to tail her; see what she knew and cut out before anyone noticed. But as soon as the network's lit up, it's all hands-on-deck.]

[Unfortunately, hers were included.]

[Greed had lost her sometime between the first wave and the second drag-out of survivors. A few didn't make it past the outer-edge of the building that was still burning bright by the time they arrived. Charred and mangled, gasping with lungs that had been pushed past the expiration point. It wasn't something he had missed. Certainly not.]

[And it had been a bit too easy to get caught up in it all.]

[But when he finds her again, she looks just as run-down as she probably feels. Greed's soaked in ash and soot as he slips up behind her. Once the flames have calmed and it's only smoke hanging where a burnt-out section remains as a husky reminder.]

Oi, oi, oi - [His hand goes to her shoulder first. Nudging her.] - you still with me? [The touch doesn't last and Greed's just not the sort. He pries his fingers away, gently shaking the spikes of his hair clean of the gray-white smear.]

[He stops next to her, just watching. Again, this isn't his problem. It shouldn't be.]

C'mon - no use staying here. [The frown on his face is quick, brief. Before he offers his hand mindlessly, holding it out.]

[He supposes he owes her the favor, at least.]

[ The touch startles her, making her sway a little -- and that, more than anything, is what tells her that she's pushed herself too much, when the edges of her perception close in like that. She can hold herself up just fine for now, while the adrenaline's still running through her, but she suspects the minute she allows herself to relax, she might not be getting up again for a little while.

Yako blinks, looking around, and it doesn't seem like there's anything else they can do right now -- he has a point there. Though she's more inclined to stay and see it through, objectively she also recognizes there's nothing more left for her to do, and if she stays she's likelier to need a stretcher herself than be the one helping someone onto it. And thanks to heroes doing the bulk of the work, it seems like the local emergency services have it well in hand.

As she reaches for Greed's hand to haul herself up, she checks the time; it's well past the hour she would have normally clocked off work and he would have been free to go, and her brow furrows a little. ]

I'm sorry -- I've kept you out later than I thought I would. [ She takes a proper look at him once she's on her feet, feeling the scrape of his fingers against hers, the contrast enough to shake her back a little into wakefulness.

She hadn't expected him to stay. ]

Are you all right?

[Greed presses an open palm to his neck and sways his head. A bit of dust comes off his fingers, smudging a line where his skin ends and his shirt begins. His closes his eyes, letting out a lofty sort of groan.] I told you before - I'm built a bit stronger than the rest.

[A crunch has him breathing. Through gently-smiling jaws as he jerks his head back, then forward. He's caked solid with the aftermath and it's not the kind of smoke-smell he's used to. Like wood burning, the pungent stink of burnt-plastic soaking him from head to toe.]

[Ah, well.] I should be asking you that. [Greed peels his eyes open and his expression is a bit sour. Even with the brief encounters under the belt, Yako's always been quick. Always been smiling, curious. She looks worn now. Taking on the expression of a solider at the end of the battlefield and they're just waiting for the opposing to side to drag them off in chains.]

[But when she takes his hand, Greed helps her to her feet and releases.] Let's go - I'm sure that appetite of yours won't wait. [It comes out a little snide and part of his lip rises a bit.]

Unless you actually want to stay here.

[ Before she can open her mouth, her stomach beats her to the punch, rumbling with a discontent that's clearly audible even over the background noise. She rests a hand over it, like she wishes she could tell it to settle down as easily as other people, but most of the time the thing feels like it's really got a life of its own... ]

I'm all right. [ Physically, at least, and she's doesn't seem visibly shaken up. But she's never liked seeing people in pain, and what makes it rankle worse is the knowledge she can't do anything else about it. At least, not yet. Revenge has never been her style, but she has a name and a face to put to this crime, and she knows who to look for to ask her questions of -- later. Much later. ]

I've been through worse. [ Now that, at least, she can say with complete honestly. ] I don't want to stay, but -- [ She's patting herself down as she speaks. ] I left my wallet back in the office. We're going to have to stop by and get it.

[ There's another reason she's frowning slightly, half her mind drifting from the conversation at hand -- she hadn't had the time to do more than skim the network when she responded to Edgeworth, but she could have sworn she saw a familiar name among those who replied to Lucifer's post. She'll have to look into it again later, but it's another worry to nag at her, now that the action's died down. ]

Eh - you won't really need it.

[Greed runs his fingers through the fur dotting his collar. A few rustles knuckle-deep clean it; like a dog shaking after a not-so-thought-out jump in the pond. He finds his sunglasses then, peeling them out of a pocket in his vest. A quick examination tells him they're fine and he shoves them onto the bridge of his nose.] Besides, equivalent exchange, remember? I owe you, for last time.

[Normally, he'd just forget. Brush the idea under the carpet and move on. In the end, he's selfish. But here they are and a charcoal length of wood groans as it falls into an unseen pile with a whoosh. He makes his decision then, slightly 'tsking' to himself. As if it's some sort of bother.]

[But the least he can do is get her home.]

[Greed doesn't wait for her response. Instead, he shuffles forward; with the ember-glow at his back still radiating a bit of heat. Both hands go to his pockets and he tips to the side. How he walks is strange; like a bad combination of someone both spineless and a bit tipsy.]

[However, he's entirely in control and the relaxed composure is something learned, not entirely purposeful.] There's a guy nearby my place. Sells something on the street. It isn't much, but it'll should be enough to get you going.

[His heel finds a clean sidewalk and Greed flicks his fingers up to his face. To right his shades over his eyes.] Sound fair? [It really doesn't matter how she answers. A few sirens drown out of the dull crackling of fire behind them and Greed all but shoves the experience to the back-burner.]

[He isn't lying, though. Just a few blocks down and after a couple of quick-jerk darts across a street or two, there is a vendor. Still parked outside despite the commotion. The name across the banner simply reads: "Un hogar cálido." Fresh food sizzles on skillets and rice boils in a pot nearby.]

Feel free - [Greed says with a flip of one hand. The other goes to his hip and he presses the toe of his boot to the ground.] - we still have an arraignment after all. And I always count myself as fair.

[It goes unsaid, but he has no plans to actually pay for the meal in question.]

[ She follows him on autopilot, for lack of any better ideas. It concerns her a little, how easily she lost track of things, but that's what she gets for being hands-on -- having powers is as much of a disadvantage as a blessing. Perhaps she should have tried eating some of the debris at the scene, it wouldn't have hurt... and it's not like its necessary for evidence, when the Network has damning proof.

In any case, it's not an unfamiliar feeling, trailing after broad shoulders and an indifferent back. She could even say there's something curiously nostalgic about it, and the situation in general... though in the past, that back was more likely to lead her into more trouble than sustenance. Like this, she can believe Greed really is as human as he says he is in part.

Maybe more than he realizes.

They reach their destination and Yako slides into a seat, glancing around for what's available. Freeloading isn't anything knew for her, but it's still a bit embarrassing. ]

Is this really okay? [ Her body's betraying her, though. Eyes wide and bright, lungs already heaving like if she does it enough, inhes deeply enough, she'll be able to drag that delicious taste in with her lungs alone. She's already searching for spoon and fork, a plate to help herself with, body moving with practiced ease as she peruses what's available. Already, the prospect of food has left her looking vitalized, and she'll likely need to eat twice as more than usual. In fact, she'll quite easily clean the stall out if he lets her. For a times the only sound is her enthusiastic mastication, and it's a long ment before she speaks up. ]

I didn't see the man who did this there. [ She frowns, thoughtfully. ] Seems he just stared the fire and ... left.

[ A crime without proper motive or mystery. Neuro would have never given this case the time of day. ]

I wouldn't have asked if it was.

[Greed keeps behind her. A friendly shadow with a dangerous smile. His sunglasses flash before he ducks under the flimsy, multicolored umbrella hanging overhead. It does smell good - enough that'd probably satisfy a bit of her need. But he doesn't plan on staying here too long. Just grab the goods and get out.]

Some of that - [Greed says as he reaches over her shoulder. He points out a dish that's colorful enough to grab his eye.] - two of them to go.

[She's practically gone glazed-eyed at the prospect. It could be the afternoon's activities or just her insatiable hunger doing the talking for her. Or both. Greed's not sure and he doesn't really care either way. He slips up next to her, bent over with a slouch. The warm sun on his back heats his leather, leaking into his back. It's a pleasant sort of feeling, a normal sort of exchange.]

[Just two people grabbing a bite to eat. With the massacre of the hour.]

Bit of a pissant, that one. [Greed's teeth slice together. The guy had an attitude - holier-than-thou with his spiel. It had a bitter taste and one the Sin in question didn't much appreciate. Sure, humans were humans. But for avarice incarnate, everything had value: everything had a price tag.]

[And that one? Had just blown the whole thing up in his face.]

[The snarl at his upper lip is short-lived. Erased as soon as the vendor wraps two things up in a flutter of tinfoil. Without thinking about it too much, Greed flicks a coin to the dash and snatches the bag with one of his terrible grins.] Thanks.

[His hand finds her shoulder again.] Not something someone like you should be seeing anyway. Let's go. [The bag falls to his side when he lets his arm hang slack.]

[ Not sitting down to eat, then -- she is disappointed, but she gives the man behind the counter a warm, sincerely grateful smile as if it could possibly make up for her companion. As they push off, her fingers itch to reach for the bag, but even she's aware that eating while walking is a bit too much.

So she occupies her mouth with words instead for now, craning her neck to get a look at him. He's harder for her to comprehend when she can't see him, but he's angry, she can tell. Not the anger of someone who's seen injustice committed and wants to right it -- more like the anger of a beast finding another invading its territory. How many more of them can one city hold? ]

He wasn't very happy being brought here. [ That's putting it lightly. ] Do you think he's who he says he is?

[ The name on the network wasn't much to go by, but as far as she knows there's only one being with that name. Unless the multiplicity of universes has found a way to surprise her again. ]

A-- demon. [ There's that word again. ] The king of hell. [ Or just delusional? She hasn't spoken to him or watched him enough to know. ]

[Greed hoists the bag over his shoulder, letting it hang from a knuckle-grip at his back. If she wants it, she can gladly take it.] There's no such thing as no such thing. Remember?

[But while his grin is deadly and his tone simmers, the Sin's eyes are narrowed. Slightly with curiosity and more with a snide sort of irritation. No, it isn't his issue. None of it really is. But there's his avarice, doing the talking for him.] King of hell, huh.

[He stops in his tracks; up ahead is Number 22. It doesn't look any different from the others; the same cookie-cutter living space dished out by government hands. Greed watches it for a moment as he taps his foot against the sidewalk.] Wouldn't know either way. [He tips his head to give her a side glance and his sunglasses fall just slightly down his nose. He's not sure whether or not she can take the hike.]

Which one is yours anyway?

Edited 2014-03-17 01:27 (UTC)

[ The repetition makes Yako tip her head a little. She wonders how often he's had reason to say it -- it has the cadence of a well-worn turn of phrase. In any case, at her question, she lifts a hand and points away down the street -- though her house is nowhere in sight, at this distance. ]

Number One. [ Or, a long way away. Not too bad a distance, and she's arguably pushed herself through worse before, but that was with a demon snapping at her heels to maek her go faster -- and on a full stomach. Reminded of the fact, she holds her hand out expectantly for her share of the food. ]

Thank you for coming today. [ Whatever his reasons, and despite the way the day's events took a turn for the distinctly stressful -- she's glad of his company. ]

[Greed frowns. It's more of a mock than an actual look; as if he's suddenly been put upon somehow.] Oi, oi, oi - you really are a lot of trouble, aren't you.

[The bag falls from his hands into her open one. He doesn't really care - doesn't have to. His place is closer and while it isn't what he wants, beggars couldn't really be choosers. He thumbs over his shoulder.] You coming or not?

[Because he's already heading for Number 22. It looks the same as the rest, though the curtains have been drawn in. The windows are open on the second floor, letting the white-wash fabric flutter in the breeze.]

[Greed doesn't take out his keys this time. Instead, he slips a nail in as soon as it goes black. A few wiggles make the door click open.]

[ There's only a flicker of hesitation, and most of it really has to do with not being sure if Greed's housemates would welcome a stranger smelling of smoke and flame coming in, but the truth is Yako is only human and without a purpose to keep her going forward, all the energy seems to drain out of her. The fact that she kept assisting someone with regenerative abilities might have had something to do with that too, making the distance between here and her own bed that much more infinite.

She should have gotten her ride home with Kanaya.

Her steps turn to follow his, because sometimes the only way you can keep going is when you've got a monster to keep up with. Something that laughs at the laws of physics everyone takes for granted. She waits for the door to open before she steps in and instinctively looks for the kitchen counter so she can lay the food out, breaking disposable chopsticks apart so she can stuff her face. She's ravenous. Even the smell of smoke clinging to her clothes does little to curb her appetite. ]

[Thankfully, there's no one around.]

[Greed slides in behind her, shoving the door shut with the back-kick of a heel. He flicks on a light with the throw of a knuckle - the place has probably seen better days. There's a few crusted holes in the wall closest to the kitchen and a faint brown-red smear dots up the wall. It looks as if someone's tried scrubbing it off, but gave up half-way through.]

Doesn't take you long, does it. [The vest comes slipping from his shoulders, caught in sprung-open clutches. He brushes her as he passes, a small sort of sneer twitching on his lip. She had been silent since they came up to the door and he knows the look. The weary sort of gaze of those on the front lines. And she reeks of it - sulfur and ash. Sweat and smoke. It isn't the type of scene a gal like her should be mixed up in, but that was her choice.]

[Though, it's not something he entirely likes.]

[Greed opens a cabinet, fetching a bottle with glass-accompany. They clink together when he pinches it by the rim.] Gunna guess it's only going to be food for you again this time, right? [He says over his shoulder. As he places the glass and spins the top off the bottle.] Tsk - you really could give that dim-whit a run for his money.

[The tin-top of the bottle peels off and he palms it. There's about half a cache left and he intends to have his fill. At least, for now.] Still sure about this whole thing? [The bottle glugs and burps when he pours.] Working for the government, I mean. [When the glass is half full, Greed tips it away and swipes his index across the neck.] Doesn't seem like your type of work, hmn?

[But whatever. He's already made his stance damn clear and it doesn't warrant a repeat. Greed flips around, tossing his hand with a flamboyant gesture. Always moving; animated with a sway of his hips and wide-smiling jaws.] That's the problem with you and yours. You know, there's always another alternative. But this is comfortable for you - it's safe. Guess I can't really blame you, can I?

[His sunglasses make his eyes seem hollow when steps into shadow. Sucking the light in and spitting her image. Like ghoulish skull, constantly grinning right back.] Maybe you'll change your mind one day, maybe not. Just remember what I told you.

[ Through a mouthful of food, Yako manages, a little reproachfully: ] I only turned twenty today. It's illegal to offer alcohol to minors. [ ITS fairly clear that she doesn't expect that to make a bit of difference to the homunculus. She chews, swallows, then frowns thoughtfully. ] Though, I guess here I'm not underage, but--

[ She's rambling, and she stuffs another gob of food in her mouth to stem the tide. ] Anyway, I'll leave the drinking to you.

[ Conveniently, it also gives her a little more time to consider how exactly she's going to respond to what else he says. It's not the first time he's brought up. He has a clear disdain for authority -- something that makes even more sense now, given what little he's told her about her history -- and there's an itch to prove she's not to be written off as someone who sticks to what is known for something as paltry as comfort.

Maybe it's the tiredness or maybe it's the invisible devil she's still got riding her shoulder, the same one that's been goading her forward all these years. ]

You remind me of someone too. He never saw the point in being held back by rules, or listening to what anyone else had to say. [ But he listened to her, once in a while. ] He knew what he wanted, and he usually found a way to get it, but -- he also played along, when it suited him. Even if he wasn't afraid of anything.

[ She smiles at him, but not at him, really -- her gaze is far away, equal parts wistful and musing. ] He could have taken care of that fire without a second thought.

Edited 2014-03-24 02:09 (UTC)

Twenty, huh? [It doesn't seem to phase him - it isn't something he really understands. Twenty years isn't a long time. Not to him, not to his, and with two-centuries already under his belt, it's hardly even a blink of the eye. But how she phrases it is strange. Turning twenty. Greed closes his eyes and offers just a bit of a shrug as his brows dip under his shades.] Kids like you should have a little more energy in them. And I doubt anyone is really going to care.

[Because a little liquor compared to the fire-storm down the street doesn't seem like it would warrant a calling of arms. He sets the glass down and pushes it towards her with an outstretched pointer.] May as well live a little, don't you think?

[But she's smiling - it's a start. Greed takes the rest of the bottle himself, wrapping finger after finger around the neck as if rehearsed.] Oh-? There aren't many like me.

[He leans in a bit closer. From behind his shades, he's watching - that smile that's reserved for someone else entirely.] Sounds like an interesting guy. [His spine straightens and him with it. As he takes to the lip of the bottle. There's a thirst there and he swallows at it. A different sort of hunger than hers; one that beats between one pulse and the next. He comes up for air and swipes his chin to clean the bit that ran past his lips.]

[ Makinga big deal out of one day doesn't really make sense to her when none of the people she would have celebrated it with are here, so she focuses on the food in her hands -- honestly, that's doing the most to lift her spirits. As food tends to do. She seemed more animated, something lighter in her voice and her expression, coming back to life like a grayed-out drawing splashed with color. ]

Interesting is one word for him. You could say he's the reason I became a detective in the first place. [ Pressganged into it, more like, but omitting that and other unsavory details, like getting dragged around bodily and having to deal with a constant stream of cheerful verbals abuse, it makes a nice sort of story. But in the end, maybe the details don't matter all that much in the grand scheme. ]

Something tells me you wouldn't get along. [ Not enough world for a pair of beasts with an appetite that big. Too big to occupy the same space, too much territory overlapping. Though they share one odd trait that makes her look up at him suddenly, curious. ]

You like humans, don't you? Why is that?

[The reason she became one. It's a human concept; following in line for a mentor. Stepping into shoes that are too big at first, but eventually fit over time. He doesn't grasp the notion - not in its entirety. Setting aside a life to one purpose alone seems useless to him. It just isn't his style.]

[But he listens. Because he can. Years running a bar has taught him there is value in words. In stories. Here, he doubts there's much to grasp. But that smile of his thins to a line and his eyelids sink behind his shades. Like that devil on her shoulder, promising everything with a heavy sort of gaze.]

[But then she asks it: "You like humans, don't you? Why is that?" It's a question that doesn't have an answer. Bad blood, something else. Fingers vice-grip his hip and his jaw opens with an airy hiss of a laugh.] Why not? There's value in everything and since it's all mine for the taking -

[Though he turns away. Showing off the line of his throat and it's the same sort of gaze she had been sporting earlier. As if a memory had gone on replay with the back-wall as its screen. He flicks it away when he turns back.] Don't mistake my avarice for something it isn't, Yako. But unlike the rest of them? I've never seen an issue with you and yours.

[To punctuate his point, Greed raps his nails across the side of the offered glass.] People - those who can't live your life? They always come to me. And they're mine. Possessions - [He says rather easily.] - besides, we're not all that different.

Because you're almost human. [ But not quite. That's what he told her before and she's inclined to believe it to be true. His goals, his motivations, they're more human. And she's wondered in the past just how far that goes. He's so clear to draw the line and then blur it again: you and yours and possessions, but also not that different. She wonders what memory he's fallen into to put that look on his face.

But poking at potential vulnerabilities when she's already here as a guest -- that's just a stupid thing to do, isn't it? ]

I can see why. [ She lays the chopsticks sideways across the box, licking her lips to catch the last drops of oil. ] Every life has value, but not everyone sees it that way. They come to you because you give them something they need.

[ To be wanted for who and what they are, without prejudice. Even if it was by something that wasn't human, it must have seemed like a better option than nothing. He's right, in a way: her life never allowed for that kind of experience. She can't say she's ever felt the kind of loyalty created by that sort of connection. But she's seen what it looks like, and even without ever meeting them, she's certain Greed's 'possessions' would die for him. Kill for him.

The question is, does he care if they do, or is that fanatical loyalty something that only goes one way? She thinks about the look on his face. ]

Does it make you happy, doing that?

Almost - [His elbow leans into the counter and him with it. As he flicks out an index and points to another wall. This isn't really the conversation he had thought about having. The nature of him, the way he works. But he's hardly bothered and instead, Greed reaches to plug the bottle knuckle-high.] - but like I said. Don't mistake it for something it just isn't.

They're my possessions and they work for me. [The warm-smile fades. With a tight-pull of his face, with the exposure of his rather wicked dentistry. As if he's got hell-fire laced into each tooth and he coils in. Shoving his hips against the back-face of the counter. He's close again; swallowing the spaces in between.] They give me what I want; what I need. [Which, in itself, is a taller order to fill than most.]

[Greed snatches his sunglasses by the silver-piece at the center. Drags them down a tad to get a better look at her. To let her really see; that thirst, that desire that vibrates with every flick of the eye. He can't stop himself. Couldn't, really. To deny it all and leave him with what?]

[He's never thought about it and he certainly isn't about to now.] Happy? I guess. But you should know by now that I'm never truly satisfied. [Placated? Sure. Enjoying himself? Of course. But the need is endless; a bottomless pit churning in his rotten core. Always twitching at his fingertips silently begging: "More. Give me more, more, more."]

[Greed slides away casually and his lips press together. Smarmy, as if he's got all the answers.] Question is, are you? Doing what you're doing, I mean.

[ Yako smiles wryly when the question gets turned around on her, rubbing absently at her cheek and streaking a dab of ash across it. She'll need a shower when she gets home; she's not sure the smell of smoke will ever wash its way out of her clothes. ]

Being able to help people makes me happy, so yes, it does. But if you're asking me if I wish I could do more... [ She trails off, straightening slightly, and looks him in the eye when he slips closer, watching the play of light off the sharp lines of his teeth, and thinks about other monsters she's known. Those who swept up other people without a second thought as they chased after their own selfish hungers.

In a way, that single minded determination is almost something to envy. There is no room for second thoughts, no 'what-ifs.' ]

... Then of course, the answer is yes. [ There's always someone else's problem to solve, somebody else to save. She leans her elbows against the edge of the counter, arms folded together like she's hugging herself, or needs the brace to hold herself up. ]

I can't just stand by and watch when something's happening.

So - you don't really care what happens to you as long as you save someone else? You're really willing to risk that much?

[Without hesitation, without even an inclination towards it, Greed reaches a thumb out to press against her cheek. A swipe snatches the ash right off her face as he retracts a beat later.] That's always the problem with you - letting your emotions gain control. But I can't say that I blame you. It's your nature, right?

[Of course, he's been there. Done that. Not entirely to that same definition of the human-lot; he doesn't understand it, not to its full extent. A little glimpse here and there thanks to his would-be host. A taste, but not the whole flavor. Greed settles his hand against the crook of his elbow and lets his fingers hover just above the surface of the counter.] Eh - can't really change that, can I.

[A knock of his boot sends him straight. Standing to a hunched-over height as he gestures with his skull towards the staircase.] Go ahead - [He starts, an offer without much explanation. He rubs his finger and thumb together, cleaning the ash off with a few twists.] - looks like you could use it more than me.

[He'll shower later and really, the conversation isn't one he's entirely interested in having. The constant tug of war - between what's human and what decidedly isn't. Two halves of the mirror staring back and him and her couldn't be any more different.] It isn't much, but feel free. Looks to me like you've got other things you should be going to.

[Like that date of hers. Not with someone, but the celebration of something. Greed slinks away, passing her by to head back into the living room.] I'll be down here when you're ready to go.

[ I've risked it before, Yako wants to say, but her response is cut short by the hand reaching forward to swipe the smudged ash of her face. It catches her off-guard, that much is evident, and the flush on her cheeks is more out of reflex at being unprepared than any real embarrassment as her mouth twists wryly. The offer's generous, but it's also one with an ulterior motive, and she can tell a brush-off when she hears one. ]

... All right. I won't take long. [ She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and shakes her head, even as she heads towards the stairs, accepting the dismissal gracefully as her heels click on the steps. She doesn't have a change of clothes, so a quick wash-up in the bathroom sink is the best she can do, soaping up to her elbows and washing her face. She dries her face off with the tissues she finds in the cabinet, and when she comes back, she's pink-cheeked and the fragrance of soap layers itself over the smell of ash and water, a few wet strands of hair remaining plastered against her face.

In the dimmed hallway, where she hasn't bothered to turn the lights on, the tattoo on her wrist shines more brightly than ever, though it flashes in and out of sight as she rubs her hand over it absently. Some hero she is, really. What does that word mean, in a place like this, and what should she do next?

Not that her pensive thoughts last long, because when she catches sight of him, she gives him a mild smile. ]

The bathroom's free, if you need it. [ And as she shifts her weight onto one foot, cocking her hip in time with the tilt of her head, she can't help looking at him thoughtfully. ]

Everyone has something they're willing to risk themselves for, Mister Greed. [ She picks up the conversation like the pause never happened, tired enough to slip up and forget he'd asked her not to call him that. ] Don't you?

[When she comes back, he's still sprawled out. Both arms spread, following the back of the chair as it crawls to either end. A cigarette dangles on his lower lip, half-smoked down to the filter and there's a growing collection in a new ashtray from the time she went upstairs.]

[Greed catches the glow off her skin first. Turning his glance sideways as she trails down the stairs. Hero - the word doesn't even register, the concept even less so.]

[He wraps his knuckles around what's left of his cigarette, slowly pulling it from his mouth. Silvery-blue wisps tangle around his forearm, jolting and fleeing when he finally disturbs the stillness of it all.] Gunna guess you found everything all right. [He starts. As he pulls himself forward and shoves the butt into the collection of burn-black ash.]

["Everyone has something they're willing to risk themselves for, Mister Greed...don't you?" The question has his eyes closing. Beyond his signature pair of his sunglasses and his eyebrows dip. It's a look that's older than he appears and Greed retracts his fingers from the tray.] And everyone wants something, Yako. [He lets his elbow nestle into a thigh as both feet fall from the coffee table to the floor.] What's your point?

Don't mistake me for somebody else - [He starts, even if there is a little distance to his words. There's plenty he'd be willing to risk - for what. The sharpness of his smile fades again, turning slightly forced. A bit grim, as if what she has to say echos a ghost or two.] - but maybe you're right.

[His foot taps a few times. Knocking his heel back and his toe forward.] What's mine. [He finally makes out and the tone he takes seems to match his actual age. 200 years and still, it all comes down to this.]

[That all he ever wanted was - ] But it doesn't really matter, does it? Not here anyway. [Greed places his hands to his thighs, forcing him to stand. Whatever sort of quick-flash that may have passed is gone and that same hell-fire grin comes sparking back. Laced with each jagged tooth, with cut-arrows at the corners of his lips.]

You ready to go?

[ Yako blinks, slowly, watching the restless movement that's still somehow different from every other time she's seen him twitch with barely repressed energy before. She hadn't had a moment or energy to spare to do more than gauge whether Greed was in immediate physical danger or not; somehow, she hadn't considered the possibility that the days events have worn away at him in less obvious ways. Her mistake, of course. She'd assumed he was more like some of the other monsters she's known.

It's strange, that sudden vulnerability. If it's all an act, it's a very convincing one; if it's genuine, Yako wonders if he's even aware of it. Either way, it catches her off-guard, and the moment's passed before she can respond to it, buried under a devil-may-care smirk and enough cocky confidence that she almost doubts the evidence of her own eyes, that there was anything to see at all.

Almost.

Don't mistake me for something I'm not, he's told her more than once by now, or variations on the same refrain, but the more she hears it the less she's convinced it's the truth and more what he's convinced himself it should be. The way he finishes seems to acknowledge that, and though she'll respect the distance and ask for more, she won't press for details. Instead, impulsive, she reaches out. ]

... Yes. [ Quietly, without making a show of it, she steps up next to him to rest her fingers on the crook of his arm, light and easy. Almost patting it, though it's not quite that patronizing, offering him the momentary warmth of another living creature before she starts to draw back, returning his shark's smile with a significantly less wild one of her own. By his failure to take any steps in that direction, she assumes he has no intention of cleaning himself up while she's around, and she can think of few things better than dropping into her own bed fully clothed, even if she'll need to change the sheets when she wakes up. ]

Why? Are you offering to walk me home? [ From anyone else, the raise of her brow and the amusement in her expression could almost constitute flirting. But if there's any coyness to be found here, it's clearly unintentional. ]

Gonna burst into flame, go ahead

open!

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nine million years later...

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