A.N. Hm… I don't know what Envy's name would be. I suspect he'd probably give a different one in each form, probably not sticking to one in particular, seeing as there's no real need for him to do so. Also, I don't know if Greed's fear-torture would be seeing his friends die. That would probably piss him off, but I don't think that would scare him. Hehe, I can wait to find an excuse for Greed to inhale some of the Scarecrow's toxin…. (evil leer). Talking about Scarecrow… I'm still not quite sure what to do with him.
Although Talon's address hadn't been listed on any company records or whatnot, Crane still had contacts in high places, and his survival mechanism (he was well aware that he was now just as much a target as Talon was) had motivated him to utilize them as opposed to saving their assistance for a later date. He had followed Talon for some time, not to kill her, he knew killing her, at this point, would not bring him in his employer's good graces, but to request her help. He suspected they both wanted the same thing- his former employer dead. If not out of any noble desire, but rather the drive to survive at any cost. And also… he really wanted to discover her secret- the one that allowed her to extend her fingers into razor-sharp killing devices. And her friend, who somehow managed to control his (or her) body to such an extent that her (or his) every feature could very well be a clever lie. Crane was intrigued.
Greed was furious. He had called the number Lust had given him thirteen times yesterday, twenty times the day before, and now, today was at an even twenty-eight. And counting. He punched in the buttons again then slammed his finger down on 'send' as if it had done him a great wrong. Feeling the need to tear the stupid (ingenious) contraption to shreds with his bare teeth, he instead lifted it to his ear with unnecessary jerking of his limbs and listened to hear the rings from Wayne's unanswerable phone mock him six times. Wait. Greed paused, his body tense with suppressed hope. Six times?
"What do you want?" a tightly controlled voice from the other line greeted, and Greed felt himself flood with pathetic ecstasy. He felt like crying streams of rainbows and laughing sunlight and unicorns before he mentally berated himself, replacing those weak, sunlit visions with the thought of strangling Wayne to death for not answering him the first sixty-one times he had called.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne," he replied tensely.
"If you don't tell me why you've been calling me nonstop for three day, I'm going to hang up, then file a restraining order."
"If you say so. The last thing I want right now is to be in a mile radius of you." Greed continued quickly, before Wayne could hang up, "Unfortunately, me and my sister have agreed-"
"Your sister? Did I date her?" Wayne's tone became slightly more wary, "If you're related to that Blake woman, you might as well-"
"Talon is my sister!" Greed snapped, interrupting Wayne in much the same fashion Wayne had interrupted him, and retribution was very sweet. "Jayd Talon, lunatic, Jayd Talon." Greed didn't know what had gotten into him. He was usually incredibly laid-back, to the point of it being a fault. Of course, this was the first time in his life that he had spent three days straight doing nothing but constantly calling an unresponsive source. He missed his chimera's very much.
Wayne was silent for a minute, and when he spoke, his tone was guarded, but slightly less harsh. "Talon?" he asked. "What did she want?"
"Be more respectful," Greed said, attempting lightness, then added in a voice that bordered on grudging, "She dropped your case. I don't think the Batman will have to worry about any more problems from the legal department."
"Well…" Wayne seemed at a loss for words, "Tell her I appreciate it. She sacrificed a lot in making that decision."
"You don't understand her, do you? Lu- Jayd doesn't do anything out of the kindness of her heart. She's calculating and cold. If she made her boss drop your case, then there's a purpose behind it."
"Probably."
Greed was unwilling to drop the subject, but he forced himself to remain on track. "She's being targeted by the Scarecrow. Actually, Scarecrow was only the tool. Someone bigger wants her dead."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. I thought the Batman would help. Can you?"
A slight pause, "I'll see what I can do." The phone went dead. Greed rolled his eyes, irritated inexplicably by the Batman. He shoved the phone in his pocket, and glanced around himself at his settings. A silver-hued café and a myriad of brightly colored, assorted shops. The table he was sitting at was decorated with a collage of scratches, and underneath his chair, multi-colored gum formed a mural of inspired stickiness. Around the ground were the shadows of the looming apartment buildings and skyscrapers. Surrounding his chosen spot was a road thick with traffic, and sleek cars, modeled aerodynamically honked at each other while their drivers occasionally threatened physical violence on one another, all contributing to the bizarre scene. In Dublith, there had been fighting, both public and not, but nothing quite like this. Even in Central, the bystanders and car drivers had been more considerate then this. And Greed knew that this was only scratching the surface. He gave a slight smile, amazed, but indifferent.
"Um, hello?" A sweetly familiar, though hesitant voice from above drew Greed's attention away from the street. Stacy was standing beside his table, one hand clutching a coffee, and the other was resting stiffly at her side. She looked uncertain, and nervous.
"Stacy!" Greed grinned up at her, and stole an empty seat from a nearby table. "Wanna sit down?" he asked.
She paused, blushed, and then smiled. "Sure." She eased herself into the chair, and then began to slurp her drink. Greed found himself admiring the curve of her lips, and the rich color in her eyes.
"Still working for my sister?" he asked.
"Uh-huh. I'm on break."
"How did you get that job so young, anyway?"
Stacy took another sip, and then placed the cup against the table, never fully removing her hand. "I got really good grades my first year of college. I, uh, couldn't really go back next year, and the D.A.'s office here is so starved for help…." She let her words trail off.
"You got lucky, then."
"I guess I did. Miss Talon really helped me out though. She requested I be given a full time job. I really owe her."
"Hm."
Stacy looked up suddenly. "You know, you have really pretty eyes."
"You think so?" Greed teased.
Stacy nodded grimly. "Uh-huh. You've got purple irises," she broke off, seemingly embarrassed, but continued, "Real purple. You're sister does, too, so I guess it must be a family trait or something, but," she squinted, and Greed felt his flesh heat up slightly under her gaze. "I don't know. Yours are a little lighter. I think maybe-" a soft beeping came from her watch, and she stopped. "I'm sorry," she said, standing up, "My break is over. Got to run!" She tossed her coffee in a nearby trash can, and then sprinted off.
Greed sat back. "I guess she was really serious about running," he murmured to himself, wondering if she was quite sane, but secretly disappointed that she had left so quickly.
Lust's new case had given her little trouble, and she was done early. She left her office, telling Stacy to remember to lock the door, and then began walking home. Her apartment was dark, though unlocked. When she entered, she switched on the lights, coming face to face with none other than the Scarecrow. Her heart soared and pounded with both fear and delight. Now she wouldn't have to hunt him down. He had come himself, and she could kill him now. Well… not kill him per say. At least not right away. She dropped her briefcase, and snapped her spears outwards, one touching his neck, the other his wrist where she knew his hated fear toxin was stored, ready to terrify. "Don't move," she breathed, then added, as she had done before, "Take off your mask." If she was going to get the toxin in her lungs, then he certainly would too. Once again he complied.
"What do you want?" Lust asked, for certainly he wouldn't have come here, unaided save for his toxin, without a cause.
His answer surprised her. "I come in peace, Miss Talon," he said, an edge of taunt in his voice, but added more seriously, "I'm here to help."
"I don't remember asking."
"Hm. My mistake. I assumed we wanted the same thing."
"Which is?" Lust asked.
"I already told you." He smiled. "Can you remember?"
'I don't know much about my current employer, I'm afraid. If, perhaps, you're trying to find out his identity, we want the same thing.'
"The… identity… of your employer?" Lust asked cautiously.
"My former employer, actually. When I failed twice in my objective, my life is just as much at stake as yours."
"So?"
A frustrated note entered the Scarecrow's voice, "We both want him dead, Miss Talon. Why don't we work together to accomplish that?"
