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Yeah, but see, you do.

[he grins, all confidence, like Ling hadn't just echoed him incredulously.]

You at least know me enough to come down here and find me. Which I'm betting means you at least know my name, and a little of what I've done.

[Which, beyond Ling's clubs, isn't much yet. Little things, protecting neighborhoods and hitting up rich assholes for easy money, nothing like he wants.]

And what makes me so special is that maybe I'm not the only one around trying to get your attention, but I am the one who got it. I know this place better than you ever will unless you have somebody to advise you, and I'm good at what I do.

And so is my crew. You're never gonna find people more loyal.

[He's more well-spoken than Ling expected, and that's probably the bulk of why he's still bothering to listen. And alright, Ling can't exactly deny that his attention has been thoroughly gotten when he's sitting right in front of him, but still - such attitude. He's toying with being almost impressed; it doesn't show on his face, but while he's still looking at Greed with the same half-bored, half-arrogant grin, he's stopped fiddling with the pen for now.]

I know what you call yourself, [he says, amused. Greed isn't a real name, sweetheart.] And I know where your crew took my liquor after I was kind enough not to hurt you, so now you're costing me more than time and business, and nobody would complain if I hurt you after all.

[He gives Greed a look that's almost pitying, and wiggles the pen at him.]

Your friends are loyal to you, not to me. So you're the one I have to wonder about.

You really think I'm going to all this trouble just to betray you?

[He ignores that quiet jab to his name. No, it isn't his real name, but what does it matter? He's sure plenty of gangsters have changed their names.]

That'd be stupid. If you hire me, you're not going to put me up high so quick, so what's the point? It'd be easier to just send an assassin after you than do a whole scheme that'd last for years that might not even work.

[He tugs off those awful sunglasses, revealing eyes so blue they might well be purple.]

So yeah, mine are loyal to me. But I'd be loyal to you. And maybe they're not the biggest or the flashiest, but they are the best.

[Sunglasses out of the way, Ling is inspired to hire Greed on the spot. No, but he does notice his very blue eyes. They're pretty; maybe he should keep the glasses on after all.

Anyway, he hums, waving his hand back and forth to indicate that he hasn't decided yet what he thinks Greed is really going to do. He doesn't trust Amestrians as far as he can throw them, and maybe part of their culture is pissing him off until he agrees to a playdate like this, but that doesn't inspire much confidence, either.

He's almost entirely certain Greed doesn't have assassins, but he won't say it.]

How do you know I won't throw the baby out with the bathwater? [The baby. Haha. He shifts to put his feet on the floor and pats the corner of the desk.] Come here and take a seat.

[Whether or not he actually comes, Ling goes on,]

So why me? If you think my family is easy to manipulate just because we're foreigners, I'm going to be insulted.

[Part of working for Ling will be, ostensibly, following orders. And yet Greed hesitates for a moment before coming here, perching up on the corner of the desk, one leg a little higher than the other as he rests his foot against the armrest, his pretty blue eyes blatant in the way they run over him.]

Even if I did, I'm not stupid enough to admit it.

[Just saying. But no, he doesn't.]

You, because you're a lot different than anyone else here. Definitely from any Amestrian, but different from any other Xingese people I've met. And I think part of that difference is that you don't think shit oughta be done the same way it's been done in the past, just because it used to be done that way.

[Hm. Probably could have said that more eloquently.]

[He's bigger up close, but not by much. Ling looks back at him with the same half-grin as before, pointedly not shoving his foot off the armrest to posture wildly about showing some respect. Maybe Greed will like that— after all, he's apparently after Ling for his politics, and that's more than slightly unexpected.

He wonders where Greed got his thirst for change from; boys don't just wake up one day and decide to become gangsters and chase after powerful and dangerous people. It must be a very sad, sympathetic story.

One day he might ask.]

And you have big ideas, huh? Well, you're a pesky thief and I don't trust you.

[Just killing him and his crew is still on the table. Hmm.]

Do you trust anyone before you hire them? I gotta start somewhere. I'm not asking to be given a key to your personal suite--

[Although, he thinks, he wouldn't mind one, boy,]

--I'm asking you to give us a chance.

A little trust would help...

[He isn't looking for sycophants, but Greed and his crew haven't been the most amicable people to deal with, so far. For a moment he considers Greed, the things he could use him for (and how, but not that kind of thing—), whether or not this little venture will actually benefit him in the end.

Lan Fan's going to be furious with him, but she isn't the boss—]

How about a test run? There's someone I want kept off my back while I move a few important shipments.

[Despite his earlier assertions, there was a part of him (young, foolish, stupid) that had rather hoped Ling would give him something huge to start with. He'd look at him and instantly give him a chance based on . . . whatever. His pluck, maybe. His spirit. The innate knowledge that this guy was a cut above everyone else.

But! It's not to be, and so he ignores his momentary disappointment and leans in.]

Yeah? Gimmie a name and a time.

[Aw, he's enthusiastic. That's cute. It almost makes Ling feel bad about what he's about to propose, very casually:]

You know Kimblee, right? [Of course he does, he's a local, there's no way he couldn't know just who that is.] He's going to try and get in my way again, and I don't have time to play around with him for this one. All you have to do is keep him busy.

So, what do you say?

[He stares at him for just a moment too long, his eyes narrowing as his smile drops off his face. He knows damn well what Ling's doing: a trial by fire in the worst way possible, sending them after a psychopath like that. Keep him busy, yeah, Greed can think of a bunch of ways to keep him busy, but he generally frowns upon the mutilation and torture of one of his own . . .

They'll figure it out. In the next instant he's got a wide grin on his face.]

Easy. You don't give a shit what kind of distraction, right?

Not really, no.

[At least Greed thinks about it before agreeing; Kimblee is a goddamn monster, and Ling wouldn't have much more to say to Greed about hiring him if he was exceedingly eager to walk his crew into that much danger for his own gain.

He leans forward, fishing around in a pocket until he produces a what appears to be a receipt that he lays face down on the desk. He's going to draw a crude map on the back of it, several city blocks without names on the streets but with stars and other symbols drawn in key places. This particular delivery is big enough that the likes of Kimblee already know about it, so even if Greed did take this information and turn on him, he's hardly the worst possible threat.]

I'll send someone with you for extra hands. [It's isn't a suggestion; endure his people hovering around critically, until a certain amount of trust is earned. He scribbles a blob in one of the building squares on his receipt map.] This is Zhou's restaurant.

[His favorite... shh. And that's all the location context Greed gets before Ling slides the rest over; along with the various symbols there are three different paths traced out along the streets.]

Those are the possible routes, but just in case, I'm not picking which one until tomorrow night.

[And there are at least two more he isn't sharing with anybody, just in case.]

Someone will come to accompany you, and I'll even let you decide which one you think Kimblee is going to turn up on.

[His eyes flit over the map, and give him this: he's clearly taking it seriously. There's a frown on his face, his hand rubbing absently at his mouth as he plans. There's a couple ways they could do this, but maybe the best would be to have them pair off . . . set up a signal so the others could come running, make it into a big scene. Not a fight with Kimblee, but something that will block him off, delay him. Some fake fight between-- well, maybe between one of his guys and one of Ling's, just so it'll look more authentic. Lots of explosions, lots of guns, it's too risky to keep going for a few minutes, or a lot of minutes, yeah, let Kimblee think they're nothing more than idiots who like explosions--

--yeah. Yeah, okay. He glances up at him.]

How long do you need? Don't-- don't say as long as you can give me, because that's shitty. Give me a length. Five minutes? Ten? An hour?

[Funny, Kimblee is also an idiot who likes explosions— Ling doesn't press to see what Greed's already thinking, satisfied enough that he is. How well he does at this is up to him and his people, and Ling's agent will be there to help as needed and save asses as needed, too, if it comes to that. Hopefully, it won't.

He makes a face, because he might have been about to make a stupid quip just like that, but alright! He'll contain himself!]

Half an hour, give or take a few. We move out at ten— if you do good, someone will tell you where to find me when it's over.

[And that's about it, he supposes, standing and moving to get his coat back from the nail on the wall. Ten tomorrow night, move in, keep Kimblee busy and get it done, move out. He'll wind up at Zhou's if all goes according to plan for a celebratory midnight egg roll bigger than his head and it will be lots of fun for everybody.

So, unless Greed has any more questions...] Oh- burn that when you're done looking at it, okay? And don't be early, don't be late.

[He pulls a face-- no shit, he's not that green-- but doesn't say anything. Instead he shoves it in his pocket, nodding sharply, his eyes trained on Ling as he oh-so-casually walks out.

And at ten the next night, there's an explosion. Turns out Roa's real good at shit like that, you wouldn't think it but there it is. Roa and Dolcetto, setting off firebombs and Molotov cocktails, until there's debris everywhere. It neatly cuts off the man trying to drive his way forward, and from a distance, Greed can see his expression twist in blatant irritation. He moves to step out of his car, and-- now, and Greed jerks a hand, signalling one of Ling's men-- gunshots ring out, bullets zinging every which way, and suddenly there's even more people coming from the back, preventing Kimblee from going another route.

Suddenly Martel's in the midst of it all, screaming her head off (oh, she's so annoyed by this role, he's never gonna hear the end of it), playing the terrified civilian. She clings to Kimblee, grabbing him, trying to drag him off to an alley, half for his sake and half for her own. Fear grips Greed's heart, but she's a clever girl. Kimblee's a monster, but they won't let him take her away.

Besides: from what Greed can see, the guy doesn't suspect this is deliberate.

It works for about twenty minutes. Then there's a flash of movement, white flashing, and shit-- turns out Kimblee isn't that stupid after all, because suddenly Martel is moving very differently, her dress torn as she springs her way up a pipe, ducking and weaving until she reaches the safety of the rooftops. Kimblee is leveling a gun, and--

Shit, and there's such accuracy in the way he points and aims. He doesn't fire off at random, but rather moves deliberately, intent in getting as many victims as he can. A bullet grazes one of Ling's men, leaving a bloody cut; Roa just misses having a bullet through his skull.

Which means it's time for Greed to step in.

The thing about Kimblee is that he's a monster, yes. He's a psychopath, he's savage beyond belief, he's intensely clever--

--but he's also a man. And he has his flaws, just like anyone.

Greed is green at all of this. Ling's right to put him through his paces. But he's also not entirely useless-- the instant he lands to the ground and comes forward, it's a fight for the ages. Both men move fluidly, easily, dancing around one another as they fight and defend, fight and defend, over and over. They're pretty evenly matched, though that gap in experience widens the longer they go at it. Greed's just not good enough, not yet, he's got the form but not the experience, and how long has it been? Five minutes? Ten? Almost, almost, and he's sure it looks as though the others have fled, but he also knows at least one or two are hanging around. And--

There's a shout. A call for Kimblee, telling him they've made their way through. In an instant the fight is off; the other man flees, intent on his job, leaving Greed gasping for breath.

Still. They're over time; by the time Kimblee gets there, Ling will be long gone.

And apparently he did pretty okay, because soon he's being told of a restaurant, and yeah, he gets some disapproving looks as he wanders in at midnight all ashy and with blood on his body, but the smug grin he has is all for Ling.]

[When the first explosion sounds in the not-so-distance, Ling's people pause momentarily to look around, concerned. He's told only the essential people that they're giving a new crew a shot at proving themselves, but it's only an extra moment to hastily move the transport group along with a quick explanation of what the hell is going on over there. It sounds like fireworks too close to the ground, all heat and shouting, and Ling will be a little impressed if Greed manages to distract the police, as well.

But the operation goes smoothly, away from the fight; a few of Kimblee's men run across their path by genuine accident, frozen for just a few startled seconds that are enough for Ling's people to dispose of them quickly. The cargo hits the checkpoint, they unload with efficiency but not with clumsy haste, and the next group takes the shipment; they're all gone by the time Kimblee smashes his way in, and Ling doesn't worry about being bothered at the restaurant.

Stern talking-tos in public just aren't Kimblee's style, and besides, there's no actual paper trail proving Ling had anything to do with the fight that broke out at precisely the right time. It's late, it's well past sundown; he'd only sent one extra hand to help Greed, and even Kimblee isn't good enough to identify his foot soldiers in the dark.

So it's egg roll time, for Ling and a handful of his closest people, although they aren't all seated together when Greed comes into the restaurant. Ling is by himself, actually, alone except for a mountain of food and Lan Fan, her face covered from the nose down by a thick scarf, leaning against the wall a few feet behind him. Hers is the fiercest glare Greed earns when he comes in like he does, very obviously not caring for his lack of subtlety, but Ling ignores absolutely all of the uncomfortable shuffling about the newcomer in the restaurant and perks up, waving his chopsticks at Greed to get him to come here.]

You look terrible! Hungry?

[Take a seat, babe.]

[Lan Fan gets an extra look and then, with a grin, a little wink, so now she hates him for life. Fantastic.

It's really only Ling he has eyes for, though. He takes a seat immediately, acting as though they're equals, as though it's his right to sit just like the boss is. Which, yes, Ling had invited him to do so, but it's also good manners to act a little more deferential about it.

Oh, well. There's food to be eaten, and he's starved. Thank god he can use chopsticks; that'd be just the thing, fucking up like that at the last step.]

I told you I was good. Go on, say it.

[More than a few hands drift toward concealed weapons when Greed takes a seat like he's allowed to; everyone in the room heard Ling invite him over, and all of them agree he could be a touch more respectful about it. Ling looks at Lan Fan over his shoulder, the expression he gives her turned away from Greed, but she nods minutely and pushes off the wall a moment later, moving to bend a few ears at the other occupied tables.

So now they're alone, for as much as they can be alone in a room full of people watching Greed very intently while talking about their plans for the weekend. Ling lifts a plate of dumplings and plunks it down in front of Greed, taking one for himself as he sits back and looks at him.

He's so... smug. And maybe he's earned that, especially given the difficulty scale of making it away from Kimblee in one piece, but one step at a time, baby face.]

I heard you got in a fight.

[The fight, as it happens; the report from his subordinate with the bullet graze has already reached him, and Ling's people aren't wont to exaggerate when they talk about a good fight.]

Buuut... I'm starting to think you do have something I want.

[He grins. He's pretty proud of that fight, frankly; it's rare enough to go against a monster like Kimblee without anyone dying. He's got no illusions part of it was that Kimblee simply didn't care about killing him, but still. He put up a damn good fight.

But oh, the rest of that is interesting. Greed helps himself to a dumpling (no soy sauce; he's still Amestrian, he eats like a heathen) and tries to quell his excitement.]

Yeah? What's that?

[This white boy is a goddamn mess, and maybe it's the adrenaline rush of a job well done, but Ling is feeling more generous than he had the previous night. It'd be more impressive if Greed could deliver him Kimblee's head in a basket, but since he hadn't asked for that, it's still a task completed with flying colors. Lan Fan doesn't like him (and her opposition has been noted, but), a few of the others who'd heard about Greed and friends earlier today have already written them off as acceptable due to being expendable, and Ling won't share that, but--

Well, he's gotten a more or less positive-on-average reception to the idea of letting some messy Amestrians join in on their business, at least for now. He hasn't shared with anyone else what Greed said to him about learning the culture or blending in; that would be met with more opposition than he needs to smooth over if he's going to do this thing.

And he is going to do this thing. Greed and his crew made it out alive from a challenge some of his own people wouldn't have gotten through as neatly, and that counts for something. So.]

You. [He shoves a whole dumpling in his mouth next, so hold on while he holds a hand up to wait while he chews this. This is his most professional.] So how about it? Still want to join up with me and run my errands?

[There's a lot of ways to interpret that statement. You, and does he expect him to act like a cross between a bodyguard and a butler, or it is not so grand as that? Is it just running around causing distractions? Or--]

Yeah.

[He agrees easily. The truth is, whatever else it is, it's an opening. So he'll take it.]

What kinda stuff you got in mind?

Depends! You do do more than make a mess, don't you?

[He could run around and cause a few more distractions; Ling will probably ask him to more than once after this. It's not quite instant right hand man and not quite low-ranking grunt he'll never see again, but it's a place to start.]

Your friends can handle some patrols, I hope.

Sure they can.

[He helps himself to another dumpling. He'd have eaten regardless, but it's definitely a little easier to do so now that he's hired.]

I can guard real well too, if you want somebody who isn't a girl.

[He figures Ling will forgive the joke. He knows girls can do stuff! Look at Martel! He clearly is an equal-opportunity employer. And honestly, it's more because he wants to flirt with his boss than anything against Lan Fan.]

[Elsewhere, Lan Fan glares at the back of Greed's head. Civilizations crumble. Flames engulf the earth.

Ling gives him a look, quietly disapproving; don't be like that. And he is angling for a key to the private suite? Unbelievable.]

Let's take it easy for a little while, tiger. We'll talk more about that later, if you keep doing a good job.

[He is unrepentant. There's something lovely about pushing the envelope, even if it results in a quiet disapproval. It's part of getting to know him, seeing where the limits lie.]

Greed.

[He knows it's a nickname, but still. There's only so many he can take.]

So . . . how's it work? You guys have a headquarters or something, or do I just wait for a note in the mail?

[ah, he really is inexperienced in a lot of ways.]

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ipad really wanted "gangsters" to correct to "gagsters" so ig that's a goal

they just do zany jokes, it's really pathetic

the two stooges

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