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)
maskormenacelogs2014-02-27 07:01 pm
nestingdevil) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-02-27 07:01 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
WHO: Greed (nestingdevil) and Danger (heartlessglitch)
WHERE: Residence #22; Heropa, Florida
WHEN: Back-dated to February 26th, Evening
WHAT: Two artificially created beings have a nice chat.
WARNINGS: PG-13? Probs?
Before she arrived, Greed had ventured back out onto the street. When the warm-wash of the mid-afternoon sun had sunk beyond the horizon, diving into crystal-clear waters at the line of a beach and changed the set for the moon's center stage. It's twilight when he comes back, ten minutes to spare at a store around the corner. He had swindled his way through, marveled at the sights and sounds, and when he approached the counter with not a coin to spare, Greed was surprised at the outcome.
"On the house," the teller had said beyond the rope-line of a counter. "-it's always great to see a new hero in town."
Greed had shot him an equally perplexed look, but quickly swiped it away. Bowed his head with a smile and nodded, "Thanks pal.". And that's how he came in possession of a cheap bottle of Gold Label: Scotch Whiskey and a pack of cigarettes. He didn't know the maker - how could he? - but, if he were being honest, he really only chose it for the name alone.
All that glittered was, after all.
He figures it's a good enough ice breaker, if any. And if they're going to have a lengthy conversation, he plans to indulge. It's been a bit too long and there's some reason to celebrate. Some meaning being alive and the other having the privilege of his own skin again.
Greed spins the aluminum top, letting it whirl when his thumb sends it going. Yeah, sure, there's plenty to celebrate, but there are things to be concerned about too. For one, that glowing half-printed mark in his skin, and around door number two? Part of his would-be family is lurking around town.
But he'll deal with that later. Right now, he's got other things on his mind.
The lights inside are dull, most turned off or cranked down low: just the way he prefers. There's a haze at the ceiling, the dull-left overs of a cigarette or two half-beaten into a tray. Where he got it, he's not telling.
A glass goes half-full with scotch before he lifts it into his palm. And to himself, Greed grins. Feverish, needy, and it's been far too long since it's just been him and his avarice alone.
Seems a right time as any to strike a deal or two.
nestingdevil) and Danger (heartlessglitch)WHERE: Residence #22; Heropa, Florida
WHEN: Back-dated to February 26th, Evening
WHAT: Two artificially created beings have a nice chat.
WARNINGS: PG-13? Probs?
Before she arrived, Greed had ventured back out onto the street. When the warm-wash of the mid-afternoon sun had sunk beyond the horizon, diving into crystal-clear waters at the line of a beach and changed the set for the moon's center stage. It's twilight when he comes back, ten minutes to spare at a store around the corner. He had swindled his way through, marveled at the sights and sounds, and when he approached the counter with not a coin to spare, Greed was surprised at the outcome.
"On the house," the teller had said beyond the rope-line of a counter. "-it's always great to see a new hero in town."
Greed had shot him an equally perplexed look, but quickly swiped it away. Bowed his head with a smile and nodded, "Thanks pal.". And that's how he came in possession of a cheap bottle of Gold Label: Scotch Whiskey and a pack of cigarettes. He didn't know the maker - how could he? - but, if he were being honest, he really only chose it for the name alone.
All that glittered was, after all.
He figures it's a good enough ice breaker, if any. And if they're going to have a lengthy conversation, he plans to indulge. It's been a bit too long and there's some reason to celebrate. Some meaning being alive and the other having the privilege of his own skin again.
Greed spins the aluminum top, letting it whirl when his thumb sends it going. Yeah, sure, there's plenty to celebrate, but there are things to be concerned about too. For one, that glowing half-printed mark in his skin, and around door number two? Part of his would-be family is lurking around town.
But he'll deal with that later. Right now, he's got other things on his mind.
The lights inside are dull, most turned off or cranked down low: just the way he prefers. There's a haze at the ceiling, the dull-left overs of a cigarette or two half-beaten into a tray. Where he got it, he's not telling.
A glass goes half-full with scotch before he lifts it into his palm. And to himself, Greed grins. Feverish, needy, and it's been far too long since it's just been him and his avarice alone.
Seems a right time as any to strike a deal or two.