[On the 1st of November, Shelly arrives. While he, of course, tries to keep his poker face, the odd folks he sees in passing, with their decidedly non-human looks, ARE ever-so-slightly startling to him.
Still, he wonders if he will be able to study their anatomy in more detail. Such knowledge is never too much.
His entrance is silent, but Oliver, his cat, greets him immediately, running up to him and nuzzling against his legs. Shelly kneels down to pet him.]
[Shelly earns enough looks that he might suspect he's the unusual looking one in this world.
The problem with losing a battle to enemies as flashy and prone to territorial damage such as alchemists and Homunculi is that it leaves your reputation as untouchable and dangerous in need of refurbishing as much as the setting. He's an unfamiliar face wandering onto their territory during a time when it seemed opportune to outsiders to move in.
He may sense some hostility in his direction, contrary to Oliver's affections, but as soon as Greed is notified, he finishes up his phone conversation and gives a huge wave and a loud, boisterous greeting that assures he's familiar and puts everyone at instant ease... or at least back to business and ignoring him.]
J.D.! Yo! What's up?!
[Greed is up, sauntering over, then stops, noticing the cat.] Hnnnnn. So this guy can be affectionate when he wants to be, huh?
[In any case, Shelly was never one to care much for what certain people think. In fact, surrounded by Homunculi or not, he would prefer his face to remain unfamiliar to everyone.]
He is fond of me. [And there's some barely-concealed fondness in his voice, too, as he picks up the cat with care.]
You and only you, eh? Well, that's probably how a good loyal pet oughtta be! [Greed reaches out to try to pet the cat now that it's held in one place by his owner.] Guess I can't fault him for that.
So, any other suitcases or anything we're gonna hafta move in for ya or should we just get to havin' a drink to celebrate.... [He's actually not sure if needing a place to hide is cause for celebration. Greed pauses, considers, then decides he must have done something big and he's still alive, so a job well done deserves a celebration.] ... something! Yeah, let's go with that drink idea! Whatever needs to be moved can be moved later!
Oi. I'm bein' hospitable here. M'gonna be offended if yer too good to have a welcome home drink with me. [It's anybody's guess as to whether he's making a dry joke or being serious.]
You think I'm gonna get you blitzed and take advantage of you? Shit, your suitcase's been here unguarded for a while, I had my chance if I wanted to pull anything shady... [Greed moves to the bar tended to by a perky, busty brunette girl whom he may notice in the future during his days at the Devil's Nest never changes out of that same skimpy but decently tasteful black cocktail dress, remembers an absurd amount of names, faces and exact tabs, and seems to be on duty 24/7.] Oi! Tiffany! This's J.D., he'll be in for a while. Not a made man, but start him up a tab. J.D., Tiff. She'll treat ya real good while you're here. So, no bein' paranoid in yer safehouse of choice. It's in bad taste.
[... Hmm, at least the dress is decently tasteful. Not that he's paying a great deal of attention to it, mind you; a gentleman should look a lady in the eyes. He bows his head politely.] A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tiffany.
[Taking that to mean Shelly's just worried about something else entirely, which will be dealt with when and if it ever comes up, Greed brights up instantly.
For her part, Tiffany smiles and chirps a friendly greeting, waiting for a drink order to fill.] Nice to meet'cha, Mr. J.D.!
[And Greed sets himself on a stool, nudging one next to it with his foot, which is as much a welcome to sit as anything.] Scotch, neat. And you?
Atta boy, J.D.! A man's drink! I bet you already hold your liquor pretty good, but now that you're livin' in a bar, you'll probably get a second stomach for alcohol!
Speakin' of stomachs, we'll have to be sure to build up your rep with the ladies before that second stomach starts showing and you got a beer gut...
[Greed does his best to play it straight, looking quite seriously worried for the state of his charisma.] That's easy to say when yer not around temptations all day long but I wouldn't drink the water here, and if all you're drinkin's the good stuff... well, it'll be a problem if you give in to so many temptations you stop bein' a temptation. So just like a dirty bar tender'd start 'em off on top shelf name booze and work 'em down to some watered down well water when they're too drunk to know the difference, we'll have to make it so just gettin' to be on John Doe's arm's a treat in itself for the ladies!
Still, he wonders if he will be able to study their anatomy in more detail. Such knowledge is never too much.
His entrance is silent, but Oliver, his cat, greets him immediately, running up to him and nuzzling against his legs. Shelly kneels down to pet him.]
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The problem with losing a battle to enemies as flashy and prone to territorial damage such as alchemists and Homunculi is that it leaves your reputation as untouchable and dangerous in need of refurbishing as much as the setting. He's an unfamiliar face wandering onto their territory during a time when it seemed opportune to outsiders to move in.
He may sense some hostility in his direction, contrary to Oliver's affections, but as soon as Greed is notified, he finishes up his phone conversation and gives a huge wave and a loud, boisterous greeting that assures he's familiar and puts everyone at instant ease... or at least back to business and ignoring him.]
J.D.! Yo! What's up?!
[Greed is up, sauntering over, then stops, noticing the cat.] Hnnnnn. So this guy can be affectionate when he wants to be, huh?
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He is fond of me. [And there's some barely-concealed fondness in his voice, too, as he picks up the cat with care.]
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So, any other suitcases or anything we're gonna hafta move in for ya or should we just get to havin' a drink to celebrate.... [He's actually not sure if needing a place to hide is cause for celebration. Greed pauses, considers, then decides he must have done something big and he's still alive, so a job well done deserves a celebration.] ... something! Yeah, let's go with that drink idea! Whatever needs to be moved can be moved later!
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... That drink idea, however? Shelly's not so sure about that.] Actually, Mr. Greed, I would rather not.
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... One drink, and only one.
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[... Hmm, at least the dress is decently tasteful. Not that he's paying a great deal of attention to it, mind you; a gentleman should look a lady in the eyes. He bows his head politely.] A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tiffany.
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For her part, Tiffany smiles and chirps a friendly greeting, waiting for a drink order to fill.] Nice to meet'cha, Mr. J.D.!
[And Greed sets himself on a stool, nudging one next to it with his foot, which is as much a welcome to sit as anything.] Scotch, neat. And you?
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Speakin' of stomachs, we'll have to be sure to build up your rep with the ladies before that second stomach starts showing and you got a beer gut...
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I keep myself in shape.
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... No, thank you.
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Hmmmm.
Ahhh. Nn, uh huh....
I see.
You're that type.
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