(Untitled)

[nestingdevil]

Who: Greed | OPEN
What: Greed get his hole of a bar open. It's not much and the selection is small, but any and all are welcome.
Where: The Devil's Nest | South Side of Town
When: Late Afternoon/Evening | June 11th
Rating: R for now - probably language,.

Comments

[chose_death]

Javert, as the woman's male companion called himself, paused in the middle of taking his seat. Greed had just called him 'prim-and-proper,' and he could not help but fix a droll but no less ferocious stare on the bartender. Where Greed was the shark, Javert was like a wolf, two foreign predators sizing each other up.

Like Naomi, he felt something ominous in this man. He smelled it and sensed it rather than saw it, the same kind of animal instinct a guard dog would feel with an intruder. He swept his large, unblinking stare around Greed's smug, grinning face, and deliberately chose to settle on his hidden eyes. Perhaps if he looked long and hard enough, he would be able to read what is laid bare in that obscured little brain

[chose_death]

"Not avarice," Javert corrected lightly, a cold and grim smile stretching his wide mouth. He lowered his chin to meet his collar. "Nothing that thrilling. Avarice implies power-hungry. That is not one of my faults. You will find that I'm just a nosy fellow. And I need eyes and ears to see and hear Aliunde's theater for me."

He took a third modest sip of his fireball whiskey and laid the glass to rest on the lip of the table. In a shocking demonstration of verve and energy, he hopped -- bounced -- to his booted feet. He rocked on his heels

[scientize]

It shouldn't be too terribly surprising for either of the bristling men to hear that Naomi, sitting so very far away from the pool table in the crowded and extremely noisy bar, has absolutely no idea just what Greed has raised the stakes to or how this new bet so intimately involves herself. The doctor only saw the physical exchange that took place in front of her, managing to catch a few very important snippets of the conversation. Javert's proposition of 'owning' Greed came as quite the shock to the pretty woman, but she knew her husband well enough to not question the strange demands he so often made. If the inspector wanted to possess some hold over the grinning bartender, he obviously had a good reason for betting against him, even if the 'why' absolutely escaped her

[chose_death]

Javert shrugged his lean shoulders noncommittally. He drummed his fingers against the shaft of the cue and leant an elbow against the bar.

"A fair chance," he said at last, glancing over to the hovering and waiting Greed. "Fifty-fifty. Sixty-forty, possibly." He grimaced crookedly and thrust his large fists in his pockets; he was fishing around for something he wanted. As he searched, he added under his breath, "Yes, I'm bound to be in luck today. I have to be, for this miserable gamble."

Ah!Javert drew out from his right side a shiny, nearly untouched pack of cigarettes. They were a good brand, his singular luxury he allowed himself throughout the breadth of his life. To people like Naomi, who knew him intimately, the tobacco use indicated indulgence. Whatever it was he felt, he was, at the very least, recklessly sure of himself, no matter what his actual chances were. He stared at Naomi hawkishly from beneath a hooded brow and fished around in his pockets yet again for his matchbook

[scientize]

It wasn't precisely as detailed a description of Greed's demands as Naomi would have preferred in this tricky scenario, but considering it was coming from her reliable husband, it was enough.

More or less.

Naturally, the doctor had her own reservations about this little game between Javert and Greed. A fifty percent chance of winning may have seemed like a great deal on family game night, when there was nothing more at stake on the table than a handful of cash or a get-out-of-trouble-free card. But in a game where testosterone-fueled men were attempting to fling around their supposed power to gain control over the other and their 'possessions'? A fifty-fifty chance really wasn't something to brag about.

It may have been her idea originally for her husband to get out and have a bit of fun for the evening with another man, to socialize and act normally for once in his long life, but Naomi had never envisioned it turning into something so goddamn dangerous

[chose_death]

((OOC: Sorry for that string there. I HOPE THIS WASN'T TOO MUCH TO REPLY TO! Please let us know if there's anything we should backtrack to, anything that would make it easier to give you a space to respond. If this is okay, just pick up from here. :-) ))Javert balanced a fresh cigarette in his mouth, dropping the rest of the pack away. He struck a match, a grim and opaque sidelong stare cast her way

[nestingdevil]

OOC | It's all good! I was just chillin' with some buds, so sorry about the delay. As always, you guys bring it.While the two of them chatted, Greed sprawled lazily. He tipped the cue stick forward, balancing it on the pointed toe of his boot. Whistled a tune and then when he got tired of that, he just plain watched them. It was interesting, really. The hushed tones, the glances he got from Naomi. And Javert was a smoker, look at that. The homunculus was entranced, even with the airs of someone who seemed bored. He was far from it in reality - the gears in his head spun behind apathetic eyes and he tilted his head, admiring the lights. It was dim in the bar and the darkness from outside just made it that more shadowy. The faint light caught dust and smoke, swirling it to the top

[chose_death]

Javert was indeed a smoker. In his own time, in his own element, Javert possessed something of a snuff habit on days when he felt particularly proud of himself for a spectacular arrest. Snuff was not the most popular or easy-to-attain method of tobacco use in this modern millenium; it had translated to a smoking habit. Perhaps there was much more to this strange, 'prim' and 'proper' old man than meets the eye, if Greed found himself surprised by such a small detail. At the very least, it was undeniable that beneath that well-groomed and tidy service lurked something savage and uncouth. This man was not born a proper gentleman, but he may have once fashioned himself to blend in as one for society’s sake

[nestingdevil]

It ended up being a straight-up shooter. Javert had left himself open a few times, much to Greed's undying delight. The homunculus had trotted like a prized horse out of the gate, tipping back drink after drink. Of course, his body being mortal and all, it had showed. Flush on the cheeks and eager to put on a good show, he cracked a ball here, missed another one there. It wasn't until the two of them were neck to neck, stallions in a race of whit and tenacity, that Greed was feeling the heat under his collar. But he laughed, oh did he laugh. Because really, it was about indulgence and he had made himself a betting man upon his arrival. Not his usually style, not with his abilities locked away and only his charms getting a good run through the ringer, but it was fun nonetheless

[chose_death]

Javert's stared, glazed and distant, at the hole where the cue ball disappeared. A an ironic pinch tugged the corner of his lip into a telling crimp. His head bobbed in an almost imperceptible nod.

That was that. Greed missed his final chance. It was exactly what Javert was counting on

[nestingdevil]

It was the sound of a solid defeat. The game fell like dominoes and it was all orchestrated by Javert. Greed had to laugh - no, he barked. Filled his bar with his sound, drowned out the rest of the patrons, and smothered the music crackling from the jukebox. He doubled over, released his cue stick. Mirth was all over his face despite the loss because really, the outcome wasn't what mattered to him in the end. He hollered for a while, body convulsing at the shoulders. "That's it! Game set! You're surprising - I was just about to tell you to retire. Then you pull that shit and look, I've lost." But he had lost nothing important. He still had his possessions, still had his bar, still had his freedom. There was just a catch.

But that would be dealt with in time. Greed wasn't of the fire and brimstone cut like his siblings. He kept a deal if he made it and he knew he had stuck his neck out there. He just wasn't exactly prepared for Javert to bring the guillotine down so swiftly. Cut, slice, done.The homunculus rounded the table and pushed

[scientize]

While the former police inspector and the bartender homunculus were concentrating so intently on their friendly little wager at the billiards table, Naomi had taken it upon herself to play a game of her own and find some much needed entertainment until her husband was finished. Not only would it just be fun, but it might help to take the woman's mind off of just what Javert had agreed to as a bet in the first place

[chose_death]

That drunken fellow quickly regret laying his sticky hand on Javert. The older man wheeled around and thrust upon him a hot poker of a gaze, of the kind that you use to baste a fire. It did the trick. Even through his drunken haze, the lug scrambled and tottered away with a Holy Shit, man! slurred under his breath. The foul-mouthed drunkard dispatched, Javert applied two fingers to Naomi's breastbone with a flourish and gave her a gentle press, stepping back just outside of her feminine clutches and holding her propped just a pace or two away. The glance he flicked at her slanted posture and her trembling legs was not dissimilar to a disappointed parent's scolding frown.

"Everything isn't something you need to know," said Javert swiftly while he examined his wife at arm's length. She sagged like a sack of bricks against his meager support. "Don't let's go so far to call you an honest man. Straightforward does not imply honest. I shall see if you are as good as your word

[nestingdevil]

He had seen the song and dance before. At the old 'Nest, there were couples that came in. Sometimes, only one of the pair decided to bounce at his joint, drink his or her fill, and take in all the sights and sounds like the covetous creature that owned the joint. And usually, Greed kept tally sometimes, the other half of the lovers would come storming in, dragging their sloshed partner out with a few choice words and scolding. So Greed shrugged as Javert yanked his wife away, shooting daggers at the pack of hungry wolves that would be her suitors. Laughed even as Naomi slumped against her husband, tipping on those heels with the influence of alcohol. It was absolutely fascinating how the two worked.

Greed liked them.

"Out of the ordinary? What, do you want a ten page essay on that, Chief?" The homunculus rounded the two of them, making sure to put some room between the pair and the gathering men. He shot his own glance, a smile so devilish that Lucifer'd probably get a little jealous. But he knew what he wanted - his things need not

[chose_death]

"Granted," agreed Javert like the crack of a whip. His brow arched in a haughty tilt that dared to ask, Is that all? "Keep your dive. Chat with your people. That's better for me!"

The mystery and the shadows were Javert's safeguard; he was a man that operated by the light of the moon as well as he could improvise in daylight. In this case, he had the distinct impression he was making a bargain with the Devil himself, and he intended to combat shadows with shadows. If he kept his reasons and his aims close to the breast, then it would be one less thing for this Greedy monster to anticipate.

"Now!" Javert exhaled, the last plume of smoke slipping through his pursed lips. He bent around Greed and crushed the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray he left on the table lip. He grasped Naomi by the back of her blouse and took several long, lazy steps backwards. He pulled her gently toward the bar with him, right where she had left his lonely, forgotten hat on the counter. "Madame Naomi is spent. I don't wish to spend my morning holding her