[At least he didn't cough? That's . . . something, he supposes. Better than nothing. Ling's meticulously swept back hair (tied in a bun, god, he looks good like that) is once more mussed with, though not enough that it'll actually fall out of that style.
Greed's apartment is, perhaps surprisingly, not in the direction where things get really dicey. It's still not great, butt the Lexus probably won't get jacked overnight, so. Progress! The building itself is tall and, sadly, has no elevators, so it's a long five flights they climb, but . . . it's kind of worth the view.
It's a loft apartment, located at the very top. All one room, there's a bed and a shitty stove and a lot of neon signs and movie posters, and, oddly enough, a few cat toys. There's also a really beat up looking cat wandering around, or at least presumably there is, although right now it doesn't seem to be in sight.
Lights hang from the ceiling; he finds a remote somewhere and changes them from white to a warm, darker orange, dim and comfortable. The smell of cigarettes is dispelled by a fresh breeze from an open window; clothing, sweatpants and t-shirts and boxers, are gathered vaguely by a laundry basket.]
Home sweet home. You like it?
[Obviously he does. It's Greed's apartment. Women have flung themselves at him to see it.]
no subject
[At least he didn't cough? That's . . . something, he supposes. Better than nothing. Ling's meticulously swept back hair (tied in a bun, god, he looks good like that) is once more mussed with, though not enough that it'll actually fall out of that style.
Greed's apartment is, perhaps surprisingly, not in the direction where things get really dicey. It's still not great, butt the Lexus probably won't get jacked overnight, so. Progress! The building itself is tall and, sadly, has no elevators, so it's a long five flights they climb, but . . . it's kind of worth the view.
It's a loft apartment, located at the very top. All one room, there's a bed and a shitty stove and a lot of neon signs and movie posters, and, oddly enough, a few cat toys. There's also a really beat up looking cat wandering around, or at least presumably there is, although right now it doesn't seem to be in sight.
Lights hang from the ceiling; he finds a remote somewhere and changes them from white to a warm, darker orange, dim and comfortable. The smell of cigarettes is dispelled by a fresh breeze from an open window; clothing, sweatpants and t-shirts and boxers, are gathered vaguely by a laundry basket.]
Home sweet home. You like it?
[Obviously he does. It's Greed's apartment. Women have flung themselves at him to see it.]