fic: "Seven Years of Famine: First Flush," Greed/Envy
Title: First Flush
Character(s): Greed/Envy
Rating: ...R? for Envy's general unpleasantness
Prompt: the wage of honesty
Word Count: ~1100
Summary: Greed and Envy, in Central, in a plague year. Greed doesn't know any better.
Author's Notes: I'm doing my best to put these into an actual series -- "Seven Years of Famine" -- following an anime-verse pastfic arc for these two. It's kind of on hiatus right now b/c of NaNo, but I got this one done before NaNo started, and I'll be trying to get back to them in December. ^^;
Seven Years of Famine:
First Flush
Central City is gray and dismal, filthy, not at all what Greed was expecting from the capital. The people they pass in the streets are thin and wretched, as pale as they are -- well, as pale as he is, rather; Envy has decided to take advantage of this opportunity to make himself as robust and healthy as he could possibly appear.
"Enjoying yourself?" Greed asks under his breath, as they pass by yet another hungry family whose eyes follow them jealously.
"Immensely," Envy murmurs. He twines his arm into Greed's, smirking. "Don't tell me you don't appreciate your fine new clothes, little brother."
Greed tugs at the sleeve of his new brocade greatcoat. "I'm disappointed," he says. "This wasn't just your way of welcoming me to the family?"
Envy leans in a little closer. "Don't flatter yourself." He smiles, the nasty too-wide smile that he takes with him no matter what face he wears. "As if that would be a good reason to give you anything."
"You're so charming," Greed says, smiling back. "I can't imagine why our lady wasn't satisfied with just you."
"Filth," Envy says affectionately. There's something in the backs of his eyes that makes Greed's hackles raise, something seething and vicious and completely inhuman. Greed wonders how old he is. "Don't think that just because she's enamored with you now, you'll satisfy her. Your name is proof enough of that."
They're interrupted, before Greed can find an answer for that, by a girl stumbling into their path -- she runs into Envy and he pushes her away, roughly, so that she trips right into Greed's arms. "You gents looking for a good time?" she asks, her voice a little too thin, too breathy, as she looks up into Greed's face. Her eyes are faded blue, her cheeks too bright when the rest of her face is so pale, and she's thin, famished, melting away.
"We don't want anything you have to offer," Envy says dismissively.
Greed catches the girl's chin in his hand. "Speak for yourself," he says. The girl isn't pretty anymore, not with the fever eating her alive, bone lying close under papery skin -- but he can see how she used to be, and there's something about her desperation that calls to him. "I want to bring her along."
"You have no class," Envy tells him. "If you want a whore that badly, I'm sure we can find you one that isn't plague-ridden."
"I want this one," Greed says stubbornly.
Envy rolls his eyes, but he doesn't say no, which is often the same as anyone else saying yes. He turns away, stalking off down the cobbled street as if he doesn't want to be seen in such company.
Greed tucks the girl's hand into the crook of his arm, and smiles at her. "Don't mind my brother," he says. "He's just jealous -- it's a terrible vice, but he can't seem to help himself."
The girl smiles awkwardly, clutching at him as if he might save her, letting him lead her down the street. It's an entertaining role, Greed thinks, the handsome benefactor -- what would she think if she knew what they were? Would she accept the aid of a monster?
Yes, he decides, feeling the chill in the skeletal fingers clutching at his arm. She'd take anything he offered, no matter the price, no matter the source, if it would get her out of this plague-ridden city alive. There's something...not beautiful, really, but striking, something compelling about humans stripped to that kind of honesty. And now it's his to savor.
He still doesn't know Central all that well -- nowhere near as well as Envy does -- so it takes a few minutes before Greed is certain that they're going the wrong way to get back to the house where they've been staying. "Brother?" he calls, as Envy starts across one of the long, low bridges over the river. "Where are you taking us?"
Envy stops, not turning back. "Don't you like the view?" he calls.
It is pretty, Greed supposes, the gray of the city less dreary and more romantic when it's fog and stone and slowly drifting water. "Well enough," he says, as he and his girl catch up to the spot where Envy has stopped, at the apex of the bridge. The water sloshes against the stone pilings. The whore's breath fogs in the chill air. "Though I wouldn't have thought you'd be so considerate as to bring us here just to admire the city. Have I had you wrong, all this time?"
He expects Envy to say something biting about what a short span 'all this time' has been, something to remind him that Envy is by far the elder of the two -- but instead Envy just smirks. "You want an honest answer, Greed?" His voice is slipping, out of the baritone that goes with this form and back into the mercurial tenor he prefers.
"I want everything," Greed says flippantly.
"Of course," Envy says. "Silly of me to forget." There's a brief moment of stillness, just long enough for the girl to start to lean into Greed's side, not quite long enough for her to draw breath to speak --
And by the time Greed sees Envy moving it's too late -- Envy is the fastest of the five of them, faster even than Wrath, and his hand snarls in the girl's hair, his arms wrapping tight around her, and there's a wrenching, sick snapping sound, and the girl goes limp against him like a marionette with cut strings.
"Bastard!" Greed snarls, his claws out before he's even thought about it, swiping at Envy as the little shit throws the body toward him. It's just so much dead weight now, flesh tearing against his claws, and Greed tosses it aside to hit the water below with a splash.
Envy is changing, shifting as he springs backward, laughing. "So angry about a diseased whore, little brother? You won't last long, like that."
Greed gives chase, aching to bury his claws in Envy's vicious too-wide smile. "She was mine," he says.
For a second Envy's mask slips, becomes pure cold fury instead of delight. "You don't need her," he snarls, as if need has anything to do with this. "Or any of them." Greed swipes at him, and he dodges, springs for a rooftop. "Come fight me at home, brother, if you can."
A moment later he's gone -- and Greed is alone, in a city full of hunger and plague, nothing to show for the afternoon's excursion but the whore's blood on his claws.
Character(s): Greed/Envy
Rating: ...R? for Envy's general unpleasantness
Prompt: the wage of honesty
Word Count: ~1100
Summary: Greed and Envy, in Central, in a plague year. Greed doesn't know any better.
Author's Notes: I'm doing my best to put these into an actual series -- "Seven Years of Famine" -- following an anime-verse pastfic arc for these two. It's kind of on hiatus right now b/c of NaNo, but I got this one done before NaNo started, and I'll be trying to get back to them in December. ^^;
Seven Years of Famine:
First Flush
Central City is gray and dismal, filthy, not at all what Greed was expecting from the capital. The people they pass in the streets are thin and wretched, as pale as they are -- well, as pale as he is, rather; Envy has decided to take advantage of this opportunity to make himself as robust and healthy as he could possibly appear.
"Enjoying yourself?" Greed asks under his breath, as they pass by yet another hungry family whose eyes follow them jealously.
"Immensely," Envy murmurs. He twines his arm into Greed's, smirking. "Don't tell me you don't appreciate your fine new clothes, little brother."
Greed tugs at the sleeve of his new brocade greatcoat. "I'm disappointed," he says. "This wasn't just your way of welcoming me to the family?"
Envy leans in a little closer. "Don't flatter yourself." He smiles, the nasty too-wide smile that he takes with him no matter what face he wears. "As if that would be a good reason to give you anything."
"You're so charming," Greed says, smiling back. "I can't imagine why our lady wasn't satisfied with just you."
"Filth," Envy says affectionately. There's something in the backs of his eyes that makes Greed's hackles raise, something seething and vicious and completely inhuman. Greed wonders how old he is. "Don't think that just because she's enamored with you now, you'll satisfy her. Your name is proof enough of that."
They're interrupted, before Greed can find an answer for that, by a girl stumbling into their path -- she runs into Envy and he pushes her away, roughly, so that she trips right into Greed's arms. "You gents looking for a good time?" she asks, her voice a little too thin, too breathy, as she looks up into Greed's face. Her eyes are faded blue, her cheeks too bright when the rest of her face is so pale, and she's thin, famished, melting away.
"We don't want anything you have to offer," Envy says dismissively.
Greed catches the girl's chin in his hand. "Speak for yourself," he says. The girl isn't pretty anymore, not with the fever eating her alive, bone lying close under papery skin -- but he can see how she used to be, and there's something about her desperation that calls to him. "I want to bring her along."
"You have no class," Envy tells him. "If you want a whore that badly, I'm sure we can find you one that isn't plague-ridden."
"I want this one," Greed says stubbornly.
Envy rolls his eyes, but he doesn't say no, which is often the same as anyone else saying yes. He turns away, stalking off down the cobbled street as if he doesn't want to be seen in such company.
Greed tucks the girl's hand into the crook of his arm, and smiles at her. "Don't mind my brother," he says. "He's just jealous -- it's a terrible vice, but he can't seem to help himself."
The girl smiles awkwardly, clutching at him as if he might save her, letting him lead her down the street. It's an entertaining role, Greed thinks, the handsome benefactor -- what would she think if she knew what they were? Would she accept the aid of a monster?
Yes, he decides, feeling the chill in the skeletal fingers clutching at his arm. She'd take anything he offered, no matter the price, no matter the source, if it would get her out of this plague-ridden city alive. There's something...not beautiful, really, but striking, something compelling about humans stripped to that kind of honesty. And now it's his to savor.
He still doesn't know Central all that well -- nowhere near as well as Envy does -- so it takes a few minutes before Greed is certain that they're going the wrong way to get back to the house where they've been staying. "Brother?" he calls, as Envy starts across one of the long, low bridges over the river. "Where are you taking us?"
Envy stops, not turning back. "Don't you like the view?" he calls.
It is pretty, Greed supposes, the gray of the city less dreary and more romantic when it's fog and stone and slowly drifting water. "Well enough," he says, as he and his girl catch up to the spot where Envy has stopped, at the apex of the bridge. The water sloshes against the stone pilings. The whore's breath fogs in the chill air. "Though I wouldn't have thought you'd be so considerate as to bring us here just to admire the city. Have I had you wrong, all this time?"
He expects Envy to say something biting about what a short span 'all this time' has been, something to remind him that Envy is by far the elder of the two -- but instead Envy just smirks. "You want an honest answer, Greed?" His voice is slipping, out of the baritone that goes with this form and back into the mercurial tenor he prefers.
"I want everything," Greed says flippantly.
"Of course," Envy says. "Silly of me to forget." There's a brief moment of stillness, just long enough for the girl to start to lean into Greed's side, not quite long enough for her to draw breath to speak --
And by the time Greed sees Envy moving it's too late -- Envy is the fastest of the five of them, faster even than Wrath, and his hand snarls in the girl's hair, his arms wrapping tight around her, and there's a wrenching, sick snapping sound, and the girl goes limp against him like a marionette with cut strings.
"Bastard!" Greed snarls, his claws out before he's even thought about it, swiping at Envy as the little shit throws the body toward him. It's just so much dead weight now, flesh tearing against his claws, and Greed tosses it aside to hit the water below with a splash.
Envy is changing, shifting as he springs backward, laughing. "So angry about a diseased whore, little brother? You won't last long, like that."
Greed gives chase, aching to bury his claws in Envy's vicious too-wide smile. "She was mine," he says.
For a second Envy's mask slips, becomes pure cold fury instead of delight. "You don't need her," he snarls, as if need has anything to do with this. "Or any of them." Greed swipes at him, and he dodges, springs for a rooftop. "Come fight me at home, brother, if you can."
A moment later he's gone -- and Greed is alone, in a city full of hunger and plague, nothing to show for the afternoon's excursion but the whore's blood on his claws.