dumbshow | the critically acclaimed open post

[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.]

[Aw, he's cute. Ling's disapproval melts away into a little smirk, amused. He's not in the business of repeating himself, so he won't harp on Greed trying to push his buttons until he actually crosses a line. For now, he's a cute moron with a stupid nickname and pretty eyes and a good hand in a fight.

It's a net gain! He rests his elbow on the table as he leans toward Greed just enough to make a few people in the room nervous for a whole variety of reasons.]

Are you trying to come home with me?

Depends. You gonna say yes?

[It'd be advantageous to bed the boss, yeah, sure, but that doesn't mean Greed doesn't have a very real attraction to the man across the table. He's strong and clever, and Greed constantly feels as though he has to be on his toes around him. Like if he looks away, he might miss a step and stumble.

It's intoxicating.]

Promise I won't just lay there.

[If they were outside in the middle of the fight Greed just thoroughly run, Ling wouldn't resist reaching out to pinch his cheeks. It's all the attention that's on them now that makes him control himself, if only because Greed being ostracized for being his new favorite after no time at all would really... suck.

But he is still adorable, which counts for something.]

Maybe next time! Eat your dumplings. [Which are actually Ling's, you're welcome, he is your sugar daddy now.]

[He pulls a face, disappointed but not truly irritated, and . . . goes to eat his dumplings, that he didn't pay for, that he's really hungry for, because turns out being a small-time gangster means the grocery budget is almost nonexistent. So he eats without shame, all but inhaling two, three, four of them.

Disgusting.]

Hey.

[Mercifully, he says that when his mouth isn't full. It's afterwards, when people are clearing out, when Lan Fan is at Ling's side, not prompting him into leaving so much as simply waiting for her master.]

You mean that, or you just shitting me? Cuz I'll ask again if you really want. Next time.

[God, he's lucky he's good-looking. Ling hypocritically does not find shoveling food into one's face super attractive, but hey, they're good dumplings... he understands. He, too, remembers what it was like to be a hungry nobody.

There's idle conversation to fill time, but most of the sounds in the restaurant are the sounds of dishes clinking and the idle murmur to a waitress about more food until at long last, it's time to get out of here. Ling is half-turned to motion for one more dessert to go when Greed addresses him, making him pause.

He does order his dessert before he looks back at Greed, of course. That's important. Lan Fan will be carrying his to-go baggies.]

If you keep impressing me, who knows! I like you so far.

Ahh, I've had girlfriends on less.

[He grins as he stands, looking far more enthused.]

See you next time, sir. Don't forget to save the real good shit for me and mine.

[Just saying: clearly they've proven their worth. Clearly they're the best.

He and his gang have a little party of their own afterwards. Nothing special, just some drinks (the alcohol they stole from Ling, actually) and a lot of self-congratulating. Roa makes them some kind of weird German food, which looks gross but tastes good, and there's vodka and scotch and everyone pointing out their best moments. All in all: morale is raised, spirits are high, and everyone goes to bed cheered.

After all: they're finally making it. They're finally somebody. Not just some petty gang, but on the fringes of something big. Something actually important.

Two weeks pass, and Greed grows impatient. He knows he's supposed to wait to be called, but shit, he's no dog. Two weeks, and he goes poking around, trying to find his . . . well. Not actually sugar daddy, not yet, but one can hope!]

[They're good, but they're not that good.

Or-- and this is the problem, actually-- they kind of are, and it's not just Ling's fondness for big, smug jerks that makes him think so. Greed and his people are that good, and Ling finds himself presented timidly with several concerns the next day all about what to do with the ragtag group. Some of his people feel shown up, others have already put in requests to claim a member or two of Greed's people for their own smaller squads. Ling knows Greed won't like that, but "the cute boy won't like it" isn't a good enough reason to say no, so he takes his time figuring out how to calm his people down on both sides.

It's a hassle, honestly. To think one group of ragtag punks could inconvenience him even more after he takes them into his operation. At the very least, it's only a few days, and after that-- well, he has things to do. He gets busy! There's the rest of his business with that night's shipment to take care of, and the myriad things Lan Fan brings to him every morning...

It's nothing personal; he can't drop everything to flirt with Greed, regrettably. It's an honest surprise when one of his lieutenants tells him Greed is here, he is on the premises at one of their warehouses. Ling is on the main floor himself, his sleeves rolled up and his hair pulled back, looking up from a ledger he's been scrutinizing when Greed turns up. Ah??]

Oh. [He leans... to one side....] You didn't fight Fu at the door, did you?

[Surely not, that old man could kick Greed's ass.]

Psh. Please. He let me in.

[Or, well. Greed had sort of lied about Ling wanting to see him? Whatever, what Fu doesn't know won't hurt him. Ah, he's going to probably get in trouble for that . . . oh, well! That's for a future Greed to worry about and/or be scolded over!

He comes over, sitting on the desk, half-looking over the ledger.]

The ponytail's a good look, boss.

[Cheerfully said, but there's a glint in his eye that suggests he didn't just come here to flirt.]

I hear you been busy lately.

He didn't let you in...

[He sighs; Fu doesn't let people in. That means Greed is a good liar and Lan Fan needs to be at the door more often, because she's much stricter than her grandfather, Ling will shuffle some schedules, whatever. Greed is here! Hmm!

Sitting on his desk... very provocative!! He's focusing on the part where Greed isn't supposed to be here in the first place, of course.]

Sure, I'm usually busy.

[....oh.]

You really want to be my favorite, huh?

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i forgot i uploaded all these icons. soon: hair down icons

sweet christ

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