➥ I. Week 1

[nestingdevil]

[The tension from the Murmur is so intense, it's almost physical. The strain, the tightness of it, like barbed wire, stretching beyond its limits. It's vicious, in a way. In a way that it almost chokes; the feeling more similar to a heat, sucking everything dry, dry, dry.]

[And all the while, there's the noise. Not words, not a language, but a howling of sorts. As if a group of something (people, the ghosts of them) are sighing behind a thick, lead door that's been locked and sealed shut.]

[Greed clicks his teeth, and the roar dulls. But it never goes away, not entirely. More, it's muffled. Drowned out by a drumming that scritches, that scratches, for the more of it all.]

Nothing's free in this world or the next, is it? [The Sin slurs, tasting something on his tongue.] Fine, then. An equivalent exchange.

[He flicks out a finger, and the Murmur shudders. The pluck of it, turning from a sensation of cold steel to a humming, vibrant gold.]

Lookin' for anyone familiar with alchemy. Call it a favor. [A glimpse bleeds through. Of a stone, red and jagged. But if anyone's looking closely, they might be able to see something else on the surface: a bubbling of vacant faces and bodies, reaching out, reaching forward, as if they're trying to reclaim something that's already lost.]

[The Sin's joints crack, and the moment fades away. A snippet, shutting as fast as a quick-snapped fan.]

And in return? Well, I guess that depends on what you really want.

OOC Note | If hunger's the game, avarice is the name. Got a tether with Greed? Feel free to assume that they're getting some (or all, we don't judge here) of that want of his, trickling in. Think of it like a fever, or whatever you want it to feel like. The world's your oyster!

CW for the Image Link: Disobeyed souls, general body horror. You can fit so many dead people in this former homunculus

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[nestingdevil]

[At that though, the Sin lets out a wheezy laugh. Smog, ash, the faint flutter of brimstone - they ease from his jaws in a thin trail. Like a ribbon, tying itself between his teeth.]

[Greed prods a door open with his elbow.] Wouldn't say that. After all, I don't have a soul of my own. Not really. [The chill of her brushes past him, and he answers: not with his voice, but with a trill. The sound of it as soft as a windchime, tinkling in a breeze.] Getting ahead of myself again, though. Sorry about that.

[The bottle he finds isn't much. A little bit of whiskey, left when the world, this world, ended. He sinks his finger into the open-glass neck.]

Do you know what a homunculus is?

[deathstealer]

A small version of a humanoid;
a body born not in the usual way,
but of seed grown in an animal's womb,
quickened by alchemy and blood.

[ Well, that is only her understanding of it. For all she knows, the word homunculus could have a totally different meaning in a different universe.

Frankly, she has no idea how that applies to the current conversation, unless... Greed means to make one himself? Or could he himself be a homunculus? He certainly does not have the energy of a regular humanoid. ]

What seekest thou?

[nestingdevil]

[The feeling on his side dips a bit; a calm as relaxing as smoke, hazing in the slow of an early morning.]

[Greed shrugs and the weight of his newfound wing tentatively shrinks back as he pulls it closed.] That's what I am. Though, there's nothing small about me. [A subtle hunger teases in his tone. It plays on the forks of his tongue like a game of spit-fire hopscotch - each flutter, as scathing as the last.]

[Dryly, the Sin swallows and whatever sensation he's sending through the Murmur hushes for moment. That is, until she asks the question. One, simple, short question and soon, what had merely been a flicker ignites again. The roar of it, so bright, so consuming, that he doesn't realize how far his claws have sunk into door's rotten-wood frame.]

[A second later, and the light goes out.] Now, that's a pretty bold question, huh? [Carefully, he pries his fingers loose, shaking a few, jagged splinters out from between his knuckles.] Everything. But that's not really what you're asking, is it?

I'm not saying this new body doesn't have some perks, but it would be a whole lot easier if I still had a few things. Need to know what I'm working with and what our good friend here decided take.

[deathstealer]

[ Ranni's intrigue manifests as a beam of moonlight on a snowlit field. She would not have guessed that Greed was himself a homunculus, but it does make a certain amount of sense. ]

Ah, thee wish to know thy missing pieces.
Is it so difficult for thee to know?

[ For Ranni, it was fairly easy to figure out what she was missing: her magic, and all facets of it. The magic in her connection to the moon, the magic embedded in her doll's form. All had been obvious enough. ]

Do thee suspect that Sleep has changed the nature of thy form?
Art thou no longer a homunculus?

[nestingdevil]

[With a wry smile, he watches the dust and flecks of paint shoo out from the doorframe. No, part of him already knew. At the end of the day, there's always some sort of cost. Some sort of price tag and, ah. Isn't it a hefty, hefty secret.]

[Because he isn't supposed to be here. He isn't supposed to be anywhere.]

[Greed slides his thumb into the lip of his pants, thumbing out the hem's curve.] No, figured out that much at least. But there's only one way to make a homunculus where I'm from, and it kinda needs something specific. [And while nothing, no nothing, is impossible, existing with out it? It's unheard of.]

[A flash strikes through the Murmur (red and electric) before dying down to a shudder, and the Sin exhales through his teeth.] Couldn't tell ya. Was hoping someone here might know a thing or two. But even if they did, I can't promise it won't get a little messy.