capeandcowllogs | Breathes without air, broken without bones.

Breathes without air, broken without bones.

WHO: Tony Stark and Edward Nygma.
WHERE: The streets of the City.
WHEN: 8/2; eight o’clock.
WARNINGS: Jerks being jerks and inciting violence.
SUMMARY: Edward and Tony, Greed and Lust respectively, are out for an evening stroll. They’re keen to discuss politics, society, and generally obliterate the lives of innocents.
FORMAT: It’d be a sin to spoil it.

A sleek figure leaned against the brick wall of an abandoned building, something that once was the house of a family. Merely hours ago, in fact. The warm home of the Sullivans’—husband, wife, two children and a dog—bright and welcoming and cozy. Until three burglars broke into this happy home midday. Seeking electronics. Television, radio, ipods, anything, they just wanted it. Needed it.

Two bullets to take down the father. The mother was protecting her youngest. Broken neck. Hammer to the boy’s head. Three bullets to the dog, one was unnecessary.

The oldest son lived, of course. And why shouldn’t he?

He was the third and final burglar.

Yes, Greed can incite the worst in people. Me, me, me, mine, mine, mine. All of it. Everything. Power, knowledge, truth. Love. Resources. Crude materials. Want, want, take. No boundaries, no morals—and such chaos over the smallest of things—it was all very disturbing. Very uncontrollable. Sheer magnificence.

That slim cut of a man leaning against this skeleton of a tragedy sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets to retrieve a cigarette and a lighter. He flipped it on with his thumb, smirking as the flame ignited his craving.

“Brother Lust. You’re late,” said Edward Nygma as smoke crawled from his smiling mouth. “You’re lucky I’m a forgiving creature. Now. Shall we?”

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Tony hadn't bothered to hurry, or even to take his time. He came when he came, and that was that. It wasn't a matter of rushing, or prolonging because lust had no time limit. It was where it needed to be when it needed to be. Sins like Greed would rush into things, the need for more always more and the need to have it before anything else would overrun even the sanest of minds.

For lust, however, it was something that would be. Power would come with the right strings pulled, the same with sex, or money, or beauty. It would not be rushed, towards the destination, or during the act. That didn't mean that it remained, of course. Lust was pervasive in being enacted, but once something was reached, there was something new to lust after. Things didn't need to be held onto. Unless, of course, it was something that there could always be more of.

"I'm here when I want to be, you know that," he smirked at Edward, and just rolled his eyes at the cigarette. "Those things could kill you," he said lightly, a soft chuckle on his lips, before he swept a hand out to the streets. "I think our public awaits us eagerly, brother."

"You have a knack for being slow. Except perhaps in bed," Edward said with a quick smile. And he sucked on his cigarette, indulging in a deep draw, his four red eyes locked on his brother's face. "Mmmm. Delicious." He grinned, flicking the darkened ash to the ground. "I've beaten cancer once, brother, I can do it again. Besides, we both know there's more than one reason why I can't die with ease." Edward tilted his head to the side, popping three consecutive neck joints.

"But that's water under the bridge, really." Another smirk, another inhale of smoke, and he strolled before Tony. Head high, gaze intimidating. He was the sin of want, the prodigal brother of attainment. Fulfillment. And more. Greed could be an artform, when employed by a cunning mind. And Edward had that sort of mind.

And the power to wield it.

"So, brother. That little debacle of yours managed to raise a few eyebrows." He paused and turned to look at Tony, his gaze dropping. "As well as a few other things. Most amusing." Rolling his shoulders in his black suit, he strolled onwards once more. "But I'd rather see the effects on individuals. I, too, will expose my newfound talents. It will be a time of bonding."

"Well, you know how people love to suppress things like us, it's only right that they let it go," he chuckled, before waving a hand. "I like to think that perhaps we are even doing them a service, in a way," his smile curled into a dark smirk, and the eyes glowed maliciously in the evening light.

"After all, chaos can be...cathartic in a way, can it not?" He laughed, and started walking towards the street, eying the people, diserning gaze flickering from one person to another. He could feel their lust, the tinges of self-loathing from those who kept it at bay, the lax grace of those who didn't.

"Bonding, hm? I think normally we're supposed to speak of similar interests, are we not?" he questioned as he eyed his first target. An older man, his hair flyaway, clothing from a different era, but he didn't care about that. He glared at everyone and everything, hating the world, hating himself.

Perfect.

"Indeed. We are. Both wrought with a certain movement of," he pauses. "Desire. And your point is not unfounded, brother: we are helping them. Exposing them for their flaws, enlightening them to their potential. Taking care of them when they are," his thoughts slid to Norman Osborn. "Unworthy. Indeed, this is more an act of kindness. However else will they learn?"

His eyes followed the gaze of his brother and soon rested on that pathetic figure of a crawling, desperate, angry man. A creature consumed by a sin that wasn't there to watch him. Edward smirked, withdrawing his cigarette and dropping it onto the hard concrete ground. The hissing sizzle died under the oppressive leather of his heel.

"He's yours, brother." Edward's gaze drifted away, scanning the rushing crowd of people before him. Run, rush, dash, want, want, need. All little cogs in his grand machine. Lawyer, child, Wall Street reject, mother, junkie, father, magazine editor, librarian, medical student--ah.

She was a petite little thing, blonde with large brown eyes. Earnest. Compassionate. Scared. Wanting to give to the world, wanting to help people. Cure cancer. Idealist. Edward scoffed, smearing the smudge of tar and ash under his shoe like a bull readying for a charge.

"Your move first."

Edited 2009-08-03 07:22 (UTC)

Tony laughed softly, and turned his gaze to the man. "The key, is to figure out why one would hate themselves so much," he purred, lifting a finger, and making a flippant gesture towards the man. "This one is because he represses what he wants," he explained.

Tony knew about self loathing, although right now he wanted nothing to do with those reasons. They were completely and utterly unimportant to him. He didn't need them. They had weighed him down for far too long. He needed to move past that if he was going to ever do what he needed to do again. He had already taken such steps, but that was not a good thing to think about around his dearest brother. Since, of course, it had involved him.

The old man, he had hated himself, and everyone around him, because he was lonely. He wanted things, but religion had been in his way for the entirety of his life.

A woman across the street, older, she eyed him, a sad look crossing her face. Aha. He laughed, and the man rushed for her, his face melting into happiness as he approached her. "Supposedly unrequited love? Or perhaps she slept with a friend. He loathes everything about her," he explained, as the man neared her.

There was quite the bloody mess. "He desperately wanted to kill her, you know," he said with a soft laugh.

"Mm, don't lecture me; I've got the same abilities you do," Edward said with a wink and a jovial sneer upon his lips. A lesser being wouldn't have been able to handle the facial paradox, but Edward could. He nodded as Stark continued, curiosity splayed upon his features. It was interesting, watching Stark at work. The pummeling that frail woman took was merciless.

"Oh," cooed Edward. "I think he just dislocated her jaw. Yes, I see some cheek tearing. Oh my, that really does hurt." His eyes snapped back to the petite student, this little would-be doctor, with her hopes and dreams and damned desire to be a hero. He watched her stalling in horror at this violent display. And he smiled. "My turn."

Edward delved into this young woman, puncturing through her noble intentions. Savoring the wisps of truth as her facade shattered before his influence. Wanted to help? Wanted to give? Oh no. She wanted recognition. Perhaps she drifted from a family who jilted her. Perhaps she had fallen from grace.

"The girl. The blonde. The med student--check the textbooks she's carrying under arm--she wants to be a hero. She craves the lingering glow of praise. She's begging for recognition. Charity, Stark, is merely a mask; a tool of manipulation. Nobility is a hoax. She wants to be hailed? Well." He threaded his hands together, cracking his fingers. "Have at it, hero."

And the girl surged to the older man, nailing him with a hefty copy of Gray's Anatomy upside the head, bludgeoning his occipital lobes. She swung again, and again, until the cover was autographed with blood.

Edward started to clap.

"Charming child."

Tony laughed, and shook his head at the display. He watched, his eyes impassive to the violence, the slaughter, and he turned to Edward with a slight smirk. "Think she would join my Avengers?" he questioned. "A real go-getter, that one," he added with a chuckle.

There were a few more moments of watching, before he turned from the display, and sneered. "Shall we move on? Let's let our little hero bask in the glory of her heroism, shall we?" he questioned. There were always more. So many people. They all wanted something out of life. Something big. Not greed, or gluttony. They wanted it more than they wanted to live. Passions were funny like that.

Then, of course, no human could deny sexual lust and wanting. Not really. People pretended that they could, but at their heart, eventually so many succumbed. Tony laughed softly. "Did you ever think, that if perhaps people let some things go, humans would be better off?" he questioned. Well, they were supposed to be bonding.

"You do realize to whom you're speaking to, correct?" Inquired the man who was the Riddler not a lifetime ago. "I lived among the people you talk of. I was one." But enough of that. Why delve into such speech, when they had other things to attend to?

"Surely you've known the sort? I'd imagine so. But then, you give up the right things for the wrong reasons. Or you used to do that, at any rate." A sly look crossed his face as Edward looked towards his brother.

He smirked. Greed was more complex than simple materialism, as the reflective mind would comprehend. It was a festering, core desire. A needling want. The mother of manipulation and cunning strategy. It was the inspiration to the movement of human history. As a concept? Impressive. As an art? Deadly.

And it looked for its next victim with glowing, craving eyes.

Tony just laughed softly. It was a dark, melodious one, not like his usual soft, snarky bark that normally escaped his lips. He was amused by the jab, more than anything else, and his four eyes turned to look at Eddie with a curl of his lip. "Really, brother, you know how things like that are. I may have done some terrible things," the word was emphasized with a slight, simpering tone. "However, the best interests of the people are at heart," he said, eyes lilting from one face to another.

He found a pair. A crowd of girls were walking, but two avoided each other, one towards the back, one towards the front. What was the term?

Ah, yes. Frienemies.

"Have you found anything you like?"

"And isn't that the excuse of every villain--sorry--visionary? The best interests of the people. I know I've used it a few times. You know who you might enjoy? Lex Luthor. It's a pity the version native to my world isn't lurking here." Edward mused aloud as he continued to stroll, his red eyes glowing brighter with anticipation. He took a deep breath and exhaled, the connection that bound him to the souls of every living thing alighted with energy. He sensed. He knew.

"Mother. Doting mother, on that bench. Her firstborn festers in her arms. She's bottle-feeding him." A sickening pause followed, the sort of silent thud that signifies malicious glee. "I have chosen."

Tony just chuckled. In this mindset, it didn't matter. He didn't care what others thought of him, or that he had done terrible things to do what was right. Instead, he cared that it had been done, and that he could do it again whenever he wished. The heroes were unregistered and milling about because he hadn't decided to grace them with his time yet.

It was pure, unadulterated power, and he reveled in it. "Nice choice," he purred. "Although I've heard a bit about this Luthor character, I don't think we would exactly get along," he mentioned. Tony rarely did get along with other men like him. Most CEOs were enemies, and that was that. Obidiah Stane, Tiberius Stone, Norman Osborn, Sebastian Shaw. Most of the business tycoons from his world never got along with Tony, and most of them were often trying to kill him, or destroy him, in one way or another.

Amusing. They never could, of course.

"The group of girls, you see the two avoiding each other?" he questioned, and then smirked at Eddie. "Your move, brother."

"Pity. I rather like Luthor. We worked on a few projects together, before." Edward clasped his hands, intertwining his fingers, before he splayed them out like a magician. He was performing, of course, putting on a rather unnecessary show. But why wouldn't he? Edward always wanted more attention. He deserved to get what he wanted.

"Mm. Noted." Edward flicked his hand to the mother, his index and thumb shooting like a revolver. She looked from her darling baby's face to the bottle of milk in her hand. Her knuckles held it so tightly the faded into white. "The woman. The mother. She wants her freedom back. Motherhood is more of an ordeal that she had imagined. She's going to walk away, and leave the child--her baby boy--to the wolves. A mother's love, Stark, is only as valuable as her will to weaken other natural instincts."

Edward shook his head, in mocking disapproval.

"I should know." He shot a sideways glance at Stark. "You know, brother, my family--my original family--wasn't one of wealth. My childhood was wrought with this sort of behavior. Greed. Unfulfilled ambition. I abandoned it, abandoned the welfare dependence and the alcoholism of my kin and took what I wanted."

He snarled the last sentence, eyes glaring bright red. The woman shoved the child from her embrace and stood up, looking wildly around. Like a panicked animal.

"I took it all."

Tony watched the woman with amusement, his own glowing eyes following her path before he turned back to his own pair. "Tragic childhood, it does seem to be a reoccurring theme," he mentioned with a small shake of his head. "I suppose this is why you were chosen for this particular role, isn't it?" he questioned as he brushed a few stray locks out of his hair, and with that, the girls had stopped.

"The funny thing about these two is that beneath all of that dislike," he purred as they started to fight. "There's just something about each other, something that makes them gravitate towards one another. They refuse to avoid each other, and so this festers, and beneath all of that dislike," he paused, and sighed in satisfaction.

It was so easy, the tinge of lust, the brush of clawing hands against erogenous zones, and the two collapsed to the concrete, their mouths met; their fight, and whatever snide comment that had caused it, forgotten.

Edward didn't answer his brother's query. There was no need to; as loquacious and liberal as he was with his personal information now, he still had secrets to maintain. And that instinct ran deeper than that which the grace of a sin could hold.

He, instead, observed the display that Stark had wrought. Quite fascinating, really, the sheer abandonment the two young girls indulged in. He could feel their want of more, their greed, overlap with Stark's encouraged lust.

How curious. How very curious indeed.

"I see you've refined your techniques. Suitable," Edward said as he inclined his head in approval. He flicked his wrist. The woman turned her head and walked, simply walked away. Her baby boy's whimpers turned into screams. But no one came. No one wanted to. A child left unwanted, likely to perish. All alone.

"Speaking of tragic childhoods," the incarnation of Greed said as he glanced to the wailing baby. "I don't suppose you've had your share of it?"

Edited 2009-08-05 05:47 (UTC)

He shrugged in response. "Not particularly," he mentioned curtly. He didn't bear any ill-will towards Howard or Maria Stark. Howard had been heavy handed, sure, and demanded Tony's best, but he had been a good father, save for his alcoholism. The fact that he had forced Tony to drink, well, he had conquered that particular road block, and even as a sin he wouldn't hate his father. He had, after all, only been human.

He watched the baby for a moment, before laughing softly as another person walked by.

"Look at that one," he said with a smirk, quirking a finger, igniting the lust in the woman.

"She wants to be the star of someone's world, to love and be loved," he explained as she walked buy. "So much so that she has driven away every single person close to her. Parents, siblings, boyfriends," he laughed, and intensified the feelings within her.

"She'll give him a home, but he'll balk under her overbearing care, and..." he trailed off, releasing a soft, malicious laugh. "I think you know how that story goes, don't you?"

"Oh," Edward wrinkled his nose. "Oh now that's just mean, brother." He's known that story, of course; no personally, oh no, Edward's parents made it clear they would have nothing to do with him. But he once knew a man named Thomas Elliot. A man he later created into a monster but really, Tommy was just asking for it. And he wouldn't have been asking if it wasn't, in some sense, thanks to Marla Elliot. And her motherly oppression.

"I may as well incite an urge to murder her within the child now. It won't pan out for a good two decades, but I'd rather it be mostly organic anyway." Edward smirked. "Believe me, he'll be grateful." A pause fell between then before Edward leaned a bit. "Nice teamwork."

He laughed softly. "Indeed. I do think sister would be proud of us, don't you?" he asked, watching the woman scoop up the baby, and look both ways, before doting on the young child. He added a touch of his power to the child, making him only a bit needy for her touch. It would last only a few hours, but enough for the two to "bond" with one another. Oh yes, that would be an interesting thing to watch.

Too bad he had better things to do. "Shall we move on?"

"Yes. Let's," intoned Edward as they abandoned the newly minted mother and child. He was losing interest in those playthings, anyway, and was slightly eager to return to his own personal possessions. The thought brought a warm feeling of satisfaction to his heart.

Because his brother didn't have the toys that he did. And that was fun.

"These people need our guidance, you know. I was never really one for direct infusion of authority--more of a libertarian, for my personal regard of self--but clearly they require our help. It's almost kind of sad."

Tony didn't really need to posess toys. When he wanted something, he took it, and when he was done, discarded. There was no need for hoarding, keeping, since such things tied him down. He could always return if he wanted another go.

"Well, I think you can figure out how I am about authority," he mentioned coyly, the smirk lifting one of his lips as he spoke. "Of course, I could have told you that they needed such help from the get-go, but..." he trailed off and waved a hand dismissively. "That's unimportant. What matters is that we ensure they know that we're here to liberate them, teach them to embrace themselves," he said. Yes, even as a demon, Tony Stark was somewhat altruistic. It couldn't be helped.

Just as Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes a little.

"We all knew they needed help. What do you think I've been trying to do?" He hadn't meant as a demon, either, but he didn't expect Tony to pick up on that. It seemed that very few did. Naturally such inclinations seemed less... Pertinent now. His masterminded plots, his plans, all of that seemed... Distant. Disconnected. Curious.

Edward shook his head, shrugging off those beckoning inklings. "But of course, brother, I wouldn't have expected anything less of your intent," he spoke amicably.

Tony laughed. "We've all been trying and trying, and yet we never seemed to achieve what we wanted so desperately," he said with a small shake of his head. "How pathetic we were, trying so hard to do it, but we were held back, weren't we?" he questioned, eying another group as they passed.

"Do you think they realize that they are on the cusp of a new order? That within a week we will have overtaken their world, and overwritten their laws, the world in our control?"

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Breathes without air, broken without bones.

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