♠ first || ➥ accidental video
[Snap, crackle, pop. It sounds like a spine's being readjusted, the grinding of bones falling back into place. Then a sigh - long winded and exaggerated. Two foot falls follow and they're crisp, cut -]
[ - sharp. ] Well, that wasn't very nice.
[Feed picks up a curved boot heel - one that seems to rocket right up and cut the dark. It rises and falls, picks up a slow beat and the owner? Hums low in his throat.] Eh-
[From crooked boots to a crooked smile, the recording catches more of the newly-arrived guest. Hair that spikes at points, eyes hidden under a pair of dark-round shades. Fur-cuffed leather vest that fans out and spirals around a thick throat.]
[And teeth. Horribly and terribly sharp; sliced-cut that could be akin to a shark's. They snap together, line in a nice row that pulls at a pair of lips.] Should I even know where this is on a map?
[But there's no one to answer in the dark. Wherever the man - creature - is, he's in a place with little light. Maybe a flicker here or there of some faulty wiring from above. But that doesn't seem to bother him the slightest. Instead, he moves to stand - pushes a butt of a heel into the back of his skull and cricks it to the left, then the right.]
Ha-! Well, I'll say this much - I'm certainly surprised.
[But now, he's staring down at the feed. Least, it seems so. Hard to gauge with those black panes of glass making sockets out of his eyes. He quirks a brow right up - a gesture that could have been innocent had his smile had less of a Cheshire's flavor to it.] - oh? Now, what's all this about?
[Lift of the recording and the man places a hand to his chest. Let's his fingers crawl up, hook into a collar bone. And a sliver of lighting catches in his shades; sends them stark silver.]
A recording huh? Well - if you just tuned in, the name's Greed. [He dips low - incredibly low. Bends over the curve of his hips and brings his shoulders up as he mock-bows and gestures with a swing of his other arm.]
- And I'd like to be your friend.
[ - sharp. ] Well, that wasn't very nice.
[Feed picks up a curved boot heel - one that seems to rocket right up and cut the dark. It rises and falls, picks up a slow beat and the owner? Hums low in his throat.] Eh-
[From crooked boots to a crooked smile, the recording catches more of the newly-arrived guest. Hair that spikes at points, eyes hidden under a pair of dark-round shades. Fur-cuffed leather vest that fans out and spirals around a thick throat.]
[And teeth. Horribly and terribly sharp; sliced-cut that could be akin to a shark's. They snap together, line in a nice row that pulls at a pair of lips.] Should I even know where this is on a map?
[But there's no one to answer in the dark. Wherever the man - creature - is, he's in a place with little light. Maybe a flicker here or there of some faulty wiring from above. But that doesn't seem to bother him the slightest. Instead, he moves to stand - pushes a butt of a heel into the back of his skull and cricks it to the left, then the right.]
Ha-! Well, I'll say this much - I'm certainly surprised.
[But now, he's staring down at the feed. Least, it seems so. Hard to gauge with those black panes of glass making sockets out of his eyes. He quirks a brow right up - a gesture that could have been innocent had his smile had less of a Cheshire's flavor to it.] - oh? Now, what's all this about?
[Lift of the recording and the man places a hand to his chest. Let's his fingers crawl up, hook into a collar bone. And a sliver of lighting catches in his shades; sends them stark silver.]
A recording huh? Well - if you just tuned in, the name's Greed. [He dips low - incredibly low. Bends over the curve of his hips and brings his shoulders up as he mock-bows and gestures with a swing of his other arm.]
- And I'd like to be your friend.