the name's greed (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nestingdevil) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2014-08-13 11:06 pm
nestingdevil) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-08-13 11:06 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
WHO: Greed [ nestingdevil ], Knock Out [ paintjobs ] | OPEN
WHERE: The Devil's Nest, Maurtia Falls, Various Locations in the 'Falls, Wild Card
WHEN: Catch-All for August.
WHAT: Re-Opened Bar, some scheduled visitations, a stabbing in the alleyway, etc
WARNINGS: PG-13, R. C'MON NOW ..
➥ Option A | The Devil's Nest, Maurtia Falls | Afternoon
When all the lights go out and the town goes dim, that's when the 'Falls is the most active. The semi-dry pavement huffs up thickening bands of fog and bar signs flick on to flood the streets in a sickly glow. It's when the noise really starts, too. The roar of engines, the shouting of both pleasurable company and some not-so-much.
The 'Nest is no exception to the rule. Rather unassuming during the day with the cancerous glow gone and the windows leave nothing save a silent shell behind the glass. A few move here and there in preparation for the night to come, but for the most part it's quiet.
The afternoon sun bleeds blearily through the rolling haze. Promising a storm and plenty of rain to slip in and out of. Greed pries the entrance open. Letting it swing wide to the stone steps opening to a mouth of alleyway. Bottles of left over booze and cigarette butts dot the way, making for a trail leading to one place and one place only.
Tonight'll be busy - that he's pretty sure of.
But for now, it's prep work. The side business behind his usual and the homunculus shifts a rather large crate off the crook of his shoulder. It's shoved aside - placed on the ground and kicked off the edge of the stairs with the help of his boot. Like the rest of the garbage, it merely lies in wait. For whatever scavenger or would-be hustler to pick at once night settles in.
Chances are? It won't be around once the night is through.
➥ Option B | The Devil's Nest, Maurtia Falls | After Dark
Instincts don't disappoint.
They come in waves. Starting as soon as the red light shudders on and a terrible wash sets the alleyway ablaze. Faces he knew, faces he didn't. They spill right in, bringing with them a variety of commodities. Some look haggard - withered and frail with scowls and smiles that piece together as gnarled expressions of teeth. Others are fresh; clean, prepped. As if they wanted to make some sort of impression.
It doesn't last.
The tables are packed, the bar half-spilling out into the backrooms. It's the kind of payout to make the bad luck of yester-months disappear completely. Greed's got two beer bottles wedged in his knuckles. He shoves the lips under the wood surface of the counter and lifts them up only when he feels the caps buckle and twist.
He passes them off to two hands, of which reach through the crowded wave like ghouls through a boarded up entrance. They're exchanged for cash; small bills wadded up due to the night's fever.
And, as per custom, the Sin merely pockets them with a charming smile.
"Oh?" He hums over the battling territory of bar-chat and the drum of music. "-is that what they're saying now?"
No - the night's not a disappointment at all.
➥ Option C | Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania | Early Morning
"Now - that wasn't very nice."
It's late enough that most places have closed up by now. The early hours of the morning where there's someone with something to prove. Which is very much the case in point: someone needing to prove something to get what he wants.
A bad choice in any circumstance.
An electric buzz strikes off the brick alleyway, causing still images of graffiti to pulse out in the dark. Similar to the beating of a strobe light laced with a crimson flare. The dark bucks, comes in, and bucks again. Greed can feel his nails skip off the side of the brick wall, scraping it to a spark.
And the cheap knife lodged in his hip is pulled, yanked, and dropped. "Ngh," he groans, almost with a playful sort of demeanor that teeters on sarcasm. He finds his footing again as the last electric-jumps reform and attach. Finding one another in the dark and plunging the alleyway back to it. At the opening behind him, a street light catches the attentions of drawn-in bugs.
Greed throws his foot out, pressing the tip of his boot into blade of the knife. "That was pretty stupid," he chides. All the while grinning, his lip pulling up and back. "-c'mon. Let's not make this any messier than it has to be."
Between him and the assailant, a distinct form of a motorcycle waits on the ground. The engine now cut, the exhaust is still hot enough to sizzle the shallow puddle. The homunculus rolls his shoulder back, popping it into place and finding his pocket all in the same breath.
➥ Option D | Wild Card | Want to set something up? Go right ahead! Everything's green.
OOC |
♠ Warnings | Mild Violence
♠ Replies will be made ASAP - slow because of work and stuff.
nestingdevil ], Knock Out [ paintjobs ] | OPENWHERE: The Devil's Nest, Maurtia Falls, Various Locations in the 'Falls, Wild Card
WHEN: Catch-All for August.
WHAT: Re-Opened Bar, some scheduled visitations, a stabbing in the alleyway, etc
WARNINGS: PG-13, R. C'MON NOW ..
➥ Option A | The Devil's Nest, Maurtia Falls | Afternoon
When all the lights go out and the town goes dim, that's when the 'Falls is the most active. The semi-dry pavement huffs up thickening bands of fog and bar signs flick on to flood the streets in a sickly glow. It's when the noise really starts, too. The roar of engines, the shouting of both pleasurable company and some not-so-much.
The 'Nest is no exception to the rule. Rather unassuming during the day with the cancerous glow gone and the windows leave nothing save a silent shell behind the glass. A few move here and there in preparation for the night to come, but for the most part it's quiet.
The afternoon sun bleeds blearily through the rolling haze. Promising a storm and plenty of rain to slip in and out of. Greed pries the entrance open. Letting it swing wide to the stone steps opening to a mouth of alleyway. Bottles of left over booze and cigarette butts dot the way, making for a trail leading to one place and one place only.
Tonight'll be busy - that he's pretty sure of.
But for now, it's prep work. The side business behind his usual and the homunculus shifts a rather large crate off the crook of his shoulder. It's shoved aside - placed on the ground and kicked off the edge of the stairs with the help of his boot. Like the rest of the garbage, it merely lies in wait. For whatever scavenger or would-be hustler to pick at once night settles in.
Chances are? It won't be around once the night is through.
➥ Option B | The Devil's Nest, Maurtia Falls | After Dark
Instincts don't disappoint.
They come in waves. Starting as soon as the red light shudders on and a terrible wash sets the alleyway ablaze. Faces he knew, faces he didn't. They spill right in, bringing with them a variety of commodities. Some look haggard - withered and frail with scowls and smiles that piece together as gnarled expressions of teeth. Others are fresh; clean, prepped. As if they wanted to make some sort of impression.
It doesn't last.
The tables are packed, the bar half-spilling out into the backrooms. It's the kind of payout to make the bad luck of yester-months disappear completely. Greed's got two beer bottles wedged in his knuckles. He shoves the lips under the wood surface of the counter and lifts them up only when he feels the caps buckle and twist.
He passes them off to two hands, of which reach through the crowded wave like ghouls through a boarded up entrance. They're exchanged for cash; small bills wadded up due to the night's fever.
And, as per custom, the Sin merely pockets them with a charming smile.
"Oh?" He hums over the battling territory of bar-chat and the drum of music. "-is that what they're saying now?"
No - the night's not a disappointment at all.
➥ Option C | Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania | Early Morning
"Now - that wasn't very nice."
It's late enough that most places have closed up by now. The early hours of the morning where there's someone with something to prove. Which is very much the case in point: someone needing to prove something to get what he wants.
A bad choice in any circumstance.
An electric buzz strikes off the brick alleyway, causing still images of graffiti to pulse out in the dark. Similar to the beating of a strobe light laced with a crimson flare. The dark bucks, comes in, and bucks again. Greed can feel his nails skip off the side of the brick wall, scraping it to a spark.
And the cheap knife lodged in his hip is pulled, yanked, and dropped. "Ngh," he groans, almost with a playful sort of demeanor that teeters on sarcasm. He finds his footing again as the last electric-jumps reform and attach. Finding one another in the dark and plunging the alleyway back to it. At the opening behind him, a street light catches the attentions of drawn-in bugs.
Greed throws his foot out, pressing the tip of his boot into blade of the knife. "That was pretty stupid," he chides. All the while grinning, his lip pulling up and back. "-c'mon. Let's not make this any messier than it has to be."
Between him and the assailant, a distinct form of a motorcycle waits on the ground. The engine now cut, the exhaust is still hot enough to sizzle the shallow puddle. The homunculus rolls his shoulder back, popping it into place and finding his pocket all in the same breath.
➥ Option D | Wild Card | Want to set something up? Go right ahead! Everything's green.
OOC |
♠ Warnings | Mild Violence
♠ Replies will be made ASAP - slow because of work and stuff.
B-ish, very late night/early morning
He washes glasses. He pours drinks. He cleans up after patrons until things slow down. Then he sits in a booth near a window and lounges back, gazing out the glass at the streetlights outside. He's slumped back, looking far more relaxed and loose than anyone should naturally be.
Granted, he is a corpse, so that's kind of easy for him to pull off.
"How do you feel about cats, boss?" he asks out of nowhere in a quiet moment.
no subject
And like usual, he's with female company. A red head this time - her eyes painted a smokey haze that mimics the drafts of stale tobacco still circling in the bar. The Sin stretches out his legs, slowly riding one heel over the opposite ankle. But he's perked when Yomiel comes around. Slumping out and sagging loosely as if he's tired.
As if either of them really could be.
"Hmn-?" Greed rocks his head back, letting the shelf of his chin almost point skyward. It's off by a few clicks. "-don't see why not. Though, that's kind of a weird question." His shoulder comes up, pushing fur to touch the side of his jaw. The homunculus leans forward then, careful not to disturb the fast-fading company beside him. His wrist follows in the momentum. Twisting and turning to open his palm wide.
"Why do you want one so suddenly?"
no subject
He shrugs, putting his arms behind his head casually. "I had one back home. They say dogs are loyal, but I've never liked them that much. Cats can be perfectly nice little friends."
A scoff. "I was just curious. I'm not really in the market for one. But it's probably good to know company policy on that kind of thing."
no subject
"Knew a guy once that would have something to say about that," the Sin reaches for a cigarette butt in the tray. Barely a whisper of what it used to be and clumps of forgotten ash grow in waiting. He pinches it by the remnant butt, takes a drag, then shoves it back down. Finally extinguishing it. "-eh."
He shelves the thought. Old ghosts aren't a good topic of conversation. Instead, the gears switch back and the laugh that comes out of him boils from the gut. Shivering to life through dregs of smoke leaving the sharps of his teeth. "If you think we actually have a policy here Yomiel, you really haven't been paying attention. I don't care what you do. As long as you work for me - "
The rest falls on shrugging shoulders. There's no need for a reminder. "Gunna guess you've already figured it out. Seems the Porter's already taken one of ours." The bitterness in his tone is slight, but present. Greed unfurls himself the woman next to him. But not before pressing a forehead to hers. "Go on - I'll be up in a second."
With that, she blearily unfolds herself from the booth. Tired eyes and staggering steps send her towards the stairs heading upward. When she's gone, Greed turns a look back to Yomiel.
"Rumor has it Violet's been sent. Don't know more than that."