dumbshow | the critically acclaimed open post

[Tuesday doesn't happen, and there's no point dwelling on why not - it wasn't interesting, just paperwork - although Ling can't help but wonder if Greed thought about him at all when he didn't turn up. Not that he said it would be Tuesday, or it usually is, just—he dwells on that, okay? Whether or not Greed thought at all about him while he wasn't there.

But that's Tuesday, and Thursday is as far from a quiet night as he's ever seen in this place. He hasn't come in with anyone, so he almost doesn't stay, but somehow he's swept in and, honestly, he's made lifelong friends with three different groups of steadily drinking students before he finally deposits himself at the bar. So it's fun—someone has spilled their drink on him between the door and this seat, but he doesn't care.

And then there's Greed coming over, and Ling finds himself just as guilty of leaning on the bar and ignoring the throngs of people behind him to stop and chat. It's like any other time he's here, he just has to raise his voice.]

Drunk people love me, [he says cheerfully by way of greeting. These are his people.] They laugh at my jokes and everything.

Sorry to break it to you, kid, but they'll laugh at anyone's jokes.

[He reaches for him, tugging lightly at his damp shirt, raising an eyebrow. Beer stains and expensive threads: not a good combination.]

Poor you. Stick around for a little while, yeah? I'll be off soon.

They laugh harder at mine.

[He's sure of it. They love him. And he leans closer when he's tugged, glancing down at his shirt himself - he can replace this shirt, but he's not going to say that and make Greed give him that judgmental look he gives - and, ah? Stick around?

It's a surprise; he blinks a few times, then grins.]

Sure, I just got here.

[Not true in the slightest, but whatever.]

Liar.

[He says, not because he knows but because he guesses. Pushing up from the bar, he flashes him one more grin before focusing on the paying customers who actually drink. There's a fair few, and he flirts with most of them, men and women both, teasing statements and low tone, baiting them into buying something more. Easy, easy, and there's a part of him that revels in it, delights in it, in everyone watching at him, adoring and sycophantic and flirtatious, desiring him and only him. He drinks up the attention, and it takes Martel's pointed tap at his elbow to get him to realize twenty minutes have flown by.

He glances over just once, seeking out Ling so he can jerk his head. Follow me, towards one of those little doors in back marked employees only. He doesn't wait for Ling; just walks up the rickety set of stairs, up and up til he hits the rooftop.]

[Ling still doesn't drink anything while he waits; it takes more than a few shots over a week ago to make him want to drink without Greed paying attention to him - and at least he isn't doing the opposite, drinking more in an effort to get attention, so this habit of not drinking is only bad for his wallet. A few times some of his new drunk friends try to push their drinks into his face, to get him to try, but he doesn't have anything in hand until Bido, bless his little heart, hands him a soda.

Bido should get a raise. Ling tells him this and Bido sputters sheepishly away, leaving him to nurse his soda until Greed catches his eye again. He doesn't even pause before getting up, his seat immediately taken by someone else, leaving him with no choice but to weave through the crowd to follow where Greed has gone. Not that he wouldn't have wandered into the back of a bar just because, anyway, but already he's been surprised by Greed's attention tonight, so he's too curious not to see it through.

Nobody bats an eye at him slipping through the marked door, which is nice, and one staircase later he pushes the door to the roof open and pokes his head out. It's quieter up here despite the noise from the street not far below and Ling wanders toward the railing at the roof's edge before he thinks to look around and see where exactly Greed has gone.]

[Just a little ways away, behind a water tower so he can light his cigarette. A sharp inhale, and he comes forward, sprawling down on the roof, leaning his back against the brick wall behind him.]

C'mere.

[He beckons lazily, though his eyes are sharp as he watches the kid. Ling, he thinks, not the kid. His teeth flash as he notes that soda, and he grins up at the sky.]

Who gave you that? Ah, never mind, I think I know. He should've made you pay for it, but I bet he didn't.

[Ling watches the scene below for another moment before he turns, unable to help the way his expression lights up a little to see Greed again. It's a nice night with a cool breeze, much more his taste than being packed with dozens of people downstairs, and- this one, the best part, that he's still not sure how it happened or why- Greed wants to see him. Specifically, him, here on the roof.

Very interesting. He wiggles the soda bottle as he comes over to sit next to him.]

I slipped him some cash but I don't think he noticed. [So far Ling's only vaguely criminal skills are climbing on everything and putting money in people's pockets, go figure.] He's just being nice.

Nice doesn't pay the rent on this place.

[He's not upset. He might be if Bido did this to everyone, but spoiling their mascot isn't so bad. He sets the cigarette to his lips and inhales sharply, enjoying the heated sting and the contrast of the cool breeze.]

Hmm?

[He tugs it out of his mouth, holding it between two fingers in silent question.]

Neither does buying a new crate of sodas, I'd think.

[And yet the soda in his hand is not ancient and possibly spoiled like the one he had last week, so thank you, he will assume this is entirely for his sake. That makes him smile, and the cigarette makes him pause. Uh!]

I don't smoke.

You didn't drink til last week either. You might as well expand your horizons while you're here.

[He holds it out. He doesn't actually care if the kid takes it or not, he's not one of those weird fuckers from a 1970's anti-drug campaign, but still. It'd be fun to see him try.]

Besides: what's the point of coming down here all the time if you don't indulge in a little sin, hm?

[Hmm... see, it's probably going to be embarrassing, is the thing. But alright, he reaches out to take it.]

Just once.

Just once.

[One knee draws up, his arm sprawling over it, watching with interest. There's no real trick to it, just inhale and exhale, but it's something that somebody has to get used to. Cigarettes burn (in a different way than whiskey; whiskey is wet and this is a dry heat, sparking down your throat, lighting up your lungs and stomach, and then that blissful moment where you exhale and the smoke streams out, oh, he does so love smoking).]

[Well, here goes nothing. He puts the cigarette to his lips and inhales and then just sits there, not proceeding to step two. His eyes water. Another second and then there comes the coughing, smoke coming (and he's pretty sure it's coming out of his nose, too, holy shit), and even though it burns and he holds the cigarette back out to Greed instantly, he's laughing as soon as his throat calms down.]

That's- [ack] That's that! Here you go.

[He laughs, taking it back from him, setting it between his teeth so he can shove his fingers through Ling's hair again.]

Not bad for your first! I'm proud of you, kiddo, I really am-- drink some soda, it'll get rid of the burn quick.

[He slumps back, inhaling sharply, aware that they're touching, aware that something is building and he isn't sure if he wants it to continue or not.]

Your first drink, your first smoke . . . it's almost like you're a man.

[Ling coughs behind his hand once more, a weak little thing expelling the last of the smoke, then wipes at his eyes. Greed's hand in his hair is getting more familiar, a fact that is both exciting and a little intimidating, leaving Ling to hum around a sip of soda as he leans ever so slightly towards Greed.

The special treatment he's getting tonight is off the charts. He's warm despite the cooling evening air, and this time it has absolutely nothing to do with alcohol.]

I'll take that as congratulations and say thanks, I think. No card?

It's not that impressive.

[Let's not get carried away, here.]

You were better at drinking. Sure you don't wanna go down there and keep your record going?

[Hmm, no, he kind of thinks he deserves a card. Anyway, he doesn't want to go back downstairs so soon; sure, his legion of drunk friends are probably still there, but this is—nice.]

Hmm, nah. I ate a lot today and I don't want to throw up.

[True and true, actually.]

I like it up here.

You always eat a lot.

[True as well. But there's a little pause, and then:]

That's why you keep coming back here? Because you like it? I thought you were looking for a way to elevate your family.

[In a shitty little bar that, admittedly, has some pretty dark underground connections, not that Ling should know about that.]

[Maybe he ate extra. And hey - not a fair time to call him out.]

I can multitask.

[He's certain he can, frankly, but he's equally certain Ling isn't really multitasking when he's at Devil's Nest. Oh, he talks to all kinds of people, chatting them up and feeling them out, but that's not really why he comes back here. He ought to have moved on a month in if that was all he was there for.]

Why do you keep coming back here, Ling?

[It's not upset. It's not angry or accusing or leering. He's just asking, because sometimes he can be startlingly direct too.]

[It's long form multitasking, where he does one thing at the bar and other things somewhere else, at other times—anyway, whatever, it's a fair question. He already said that embarrassing thing last time about getting hot and bothered, soooo.]

To see you, mostly. And because someone has to be nice to Bido.

[Nobody has to be nice to Bido, because Greed is plenty nice to him already. But that first part is good to hear, and he nods, pleased to hear Ling admit it.]

And what is it you're hoping is going to happen?

[Bido is a gentle soul... Anyway, this is taking a weird turn, maybe? Greed rattled off a list of all the dumb shit Ling does last time, so that's still somewhat on the brain.]

Hey now, what's with the interrogation? Can't I just want to see you sometimes?

[His expression is unreadable for a few seconds, then he lifts a shoulder in a shrug.]

Sure.

[There's a reason he likes Ling coming around, frankly. There's a reason he brought him up here tonight; that he dragged him behind the bar last time. Yeah, the kid's good looking, but it's a little more than that. It's . . . what? His tenacity, maybe. His blatant greed. He's made it clear to everyone paying him any mind that he's here to elevate himself, and that kind of honesty is refreshing. There's no bullshitting, no desperate attempts at charm or lies.

The fact he's just a little younger, that he's so very inexperienced in certain ways (and very experienced in others, frankly) is just bonus.

With a sudden laugh he shoves his fingers through the kid's hair again, pushing his head forward and breaking his solemn little moment.]

So how far up do you have to go, huh? The Yao gotta be somewhere near the top, you spend money like it's nothing to you.

[Pushing his head like that does nothing to clear up just what that was about for Ling, but it makes him smile and nudge Greed's offending hand to quit it, anyway. This is fine; he has even less of a plan for this than he does for holding his family up, but it feels better that way.

He lifts Greed's whole arm away from his hair and drops it around his own shoulders. That's where he can put that if he's feeling especially like putting his hands on Ling today, frankly.]

I do have a lot of money.

[That's just the truth, and Ling has a knack for money not in the way that he has a head for numbers, but he was born with a silver spoon not in his mouth so much as gripped in hand, ready for more. So yeah, he spends money like it's growing on trees, but he's not a total dumbass about it.

And frankly, drinks he always leaves behind are less than pocket change, in the grand scheme of things.]

Somewhere near the top isn't the top, is it? I'm not satisfied with a lot of money. Someone always has their thumb over us and I'm not going to let it continue forever.

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