[OPEN] I guess that I don't need that though

[chronomancer]

Characters: [AU1] Eridan Ampora and OPEN!
Setting: Workshop.
Format: Starting with Action, but I'll match you.
Summary: Nearly fifty years later and Eridan still sucks at this sewing thing.
Warnings: Heavy handed sexual innuendo, attempts to make your characters uncomfortable, lewd bad jokes, Eridan being as trigger-happy with that gun as ever. Also Eridan being the troll-equivalent of a vampire, so expect him to glow if startled and shamelessly ask if he can bite your characters.

[There's a jadeblood sitting on a workbench, struggling with thread, needle and a really long, red coat. He's grumbling at it, squinting between each stitch and occasionally growling ferally at it. Sunglasses stuck on his hair, which is still black and green, Eridan seems to be slightly absorbed with his task. The short sleeve tshirt he's wearing is not very well suited for the cold, at least not without his coat, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's no longer wearing his sign on it, as it's just plain black with a small detail in yellow lines near the hem. His sign is now on his pants, black as well, stitched in jade along the lower part of his right leg. Shame the whole thing is dirty and slightly stained by blood and things you probably don't want to know the origin of. Rifle is, as always, resting by his side, an easy snatch away.]

Every fuckin' time, I swear...

[He shakes the whole thing in frustration, as he's once again, stabbed the underside of a claw with that needle. You'd think he'd be better at this, given how long he's been here. But nope. Some things just never change.]

Comments

[hystericull]

[They need to raise the stairs in this fucking bitch.]

[Winding his way up the spiral had never been an issue when Gamzee had first arrived here. But that was... who really knew how fucking long ago that was? Who even really cared? It was so far out of Gamzee's usual mullings that he had given up keeping track. He'd given up on a lot of things, actually. Like attempting to fit himself into the parameters of socially acceptable behavior like he had tried to do for sweeps before. He'd given up on thinking that he would ever be functional, ever be stable - and as much as that made life harder for everyone else, it instantly made his a hell of a lot mother FUCKING easier.]

[One thing it couldn't change, though, was the annoying pain of smacking the shafts of his gigantic horns on the tier of steps above him. He looked like he'd been put through a fucking taffy pull - everything sprouting out of control. Some days he wondered if he'd ever stop. Maybe one day he'd be bigger than this fucking Tower. THEN WHERE THE FUCK WOULD THEY KEEP HIM!?]

[Soured by his most recent injury, Gamzee dropped off on the floor in front of him. The workshop. This fucking place was as good as any to stalk around on. And what interesting prey there was to stalk today, of all days.]

[His speed was something he'd discovered to be quite useful. Useful for carnage, useful for easily gaining the upper hand, and, right now, useful for following the ever-hilarious flow of harshwhimsy wherever the fuck it may take him. Looks like it took him in the blink of an eye and a shadowy wisp behind a cranky fart playing with some needles. What all a motherfuckin' sour-assed prick we got all up and running ourselves into on fucking what holy day such as all today is.]

[Bending at the waist, Gamzee curved all the way forward to peer at the handiwork that was being done in front of him. He arced himself until those beanstalk horns hit the opposite end of the table, halting his movement.]

[It would be a clear-as-day fucking miracle if this surly jadeblood were able to continue his work, now that a grinning set of impossibly long, twisted fangs surrounded by a ratted mass of hair was obstructing his view.]

[The teeth and hair said nothing.]

[chronomancer]

[This is his life, this are his choices. Eridan takes a moment to look up at the ceiling and sigh dramatically before staring at that nest of fangs with a sullen expression. ...well, he'd look up at the ceiling if he could, but the sentiment was there.]

Do you want a needle in the eye, Makara? 'cause I can totally help you there, bro.

[And then he leered. Because when the fuck wasn't he leering at someone.]

Should've expected you to be a kinky bitch though, shouldn't I.

[hystericull]

[Gamzee remained silent for a long while, grinning at things it was sort of difficult for him to see. His hair was even a fucking nuisance to himself sometimes.]

[The drool was starting to run into his nose. That was as good an indicator as fucking any that it was finally time to respond, acknowledge that he had been spoken to. With a wheezing, manic chuckle and a drawn breath, the grin - that now was becoming a little painful - never faltered.]

You all motherfuckin' was being known at us for enough times to up and all motherfucking answer that for your fuckin' own, motherfucker!

[Eridan's leer was met with a pair of crazed purple eyes as a clump of twisted curls were shaken away from them. They squinted and stared and crossed in this perverted moment of glee.]

[chronomancer]

[Eridan snorts and puts the sewing to the side.]

Well, yes.

[He scoffs at Gamzee, rolling his eyes.]

's polite to ask, that's all.

[With his hands free, though, he can reach out to try and poke the highblood's cheeks. Maybe even try and tug at that grin. Yeah. Fear of Gamzee? Never a thing he learned.]

Whatcha doin' here, Gam? Come to gimme a little snack?

[hystericull]

[With a noiseless sneer, Gamzee's jaws surge forward and snap shut, attempting to lop off the offensive fingers prodding at his face. Even though his fangs slid together with a harsh click, indicating he'd missed Eridan's hands, it wasn't for lack of trying. He really would have chomped the things right from their knuckles, a fact he was fairly confident Eridan understood.]

If you all be insistin' at gettin' the motherfuckin' stingyness on when it be all coming to my snacks, then you ain't gettin' fuckin' none of what I've up and all motherfucking got, bitch.

[Waggling his own fingers in Eridan's face, he pulled them back abruptly, focusing instead on climbing on the back of his chair. It was a perilous endeavor, seeing as how Gamzee was probably twice Eridan's size. He felt the balance of the chair's legs get thrown off a few times, but he still tried perching himself on the thing.]

[chronomancer]

[After Gamzee snapped his jaw shut, Eridan unconsciously wiggled his fingers, as if to remind himself he had all ten of them attached. Then he grinned at the clown, baring all his fangs.]

Just a little bite, Gam. C'mon. Promise not to suck you dry.

[Yeah, this is a feat of balancing and precarious shifting, but he's not gonna be the pussycat that walks out. The asshole might never let him live it down if he did.]

What's a little blood between friends?

[hystericull]

[There was a moment where the chair almost tipped backwards, wobbling on its hind legs before Gamzee slammed the heel of one of his boots down on the seat to counteract the force. It balanced on two legs for a beat before he threw his weight forward and landed it back on the ground.]

[He now had his bony ass quite uncomfortably placed on the top of the seat's back, mile-long legs at either of Eridan's sides, bent at the knee because that was the only way they'd fit in this position.]

[Leaning over the jadeblood's head once more, he took one of those wavy horns in an enormous hand, yanking his head back to allow himself a better view. There was that jacked-up grin again.]

What's all a little motherfuckin' blood indeed, motherfucker!?

[He tilted his head, free hand working its way to the front of Eridan's throat to toy at his Adam's apple with his claws.]

Hardly be all seeing any mother fucking thing in it for my own fuckin' self, though. You ain't been getting your fuckin' mistake all on in me for a selfless motherfucker again, have you?

[chronomancer]

You wouldn't do selfless even if you had a fucking instruction manual to show you how. And I admit, I'm fucking dumb, but not even I'm that fucking dumb.

[Have a smile full of teeth as the skin under Gamzee's claws begins to pale.]

So what do you want for it, darlin'?

[Also leering. So much fucking leering. It's leering central here.]

[hystericull]

Mmm~ ♫

[He nodded, humming in satisfaction. The day Eridan assumed Gamzee to be a charity worker was the day he got a crack in his skull so big his brains would be slop on the floor. Unfortunately, this was not the day.]

[He continued to hum, scratching at the lump beneath his nails and tilting his head back and forth in mock-consideration.]

Well.

[The other hand pulled back on Eridan's horn again, and Gamzee lined his face up so that their noses were touching. He'd leave a smear of white across the tip of Eridan's nose when he pulled away, but for now he was speaking directly into his forehead.]

Ain't it just be the most wicked motherfuckin' riot if all what we be up and jonesin' from each fuckin' other be one and the motherfuckin' same? Hmm?

You get a little of us.

[His hand instantly jerked, tightening around the neck in front of it and burying those claws into any soft flesh he could get at that wouldn't result in Eridan bleeding out.]

AND WE GET A LITTLE OF MOTHER FUCKING YOU.

[chronomancer]

[Eridan grins even as those claws sink in, though he arches an eyebrow.]

How little is a little?

[He licks his lips.]

Because if it pisses Equius off and you cockblock me, Makara, I'll shoot your bulge pointblank.

[hystericull]

[His eyes narrow. Gone is the lighthearted (yet slightly deranged) humor from before. Now it's just teeth, filling up a slash of a smirk.]

Sounds all like we can't be fuckin' avoidin' one without all triggering a-motherfucking-nother.

[Whether he wants to be or not, Gamzee is front and center to watch Eridan's tongue run over his lips. He moves his hand from the horn to twist in the hair on the back of his head, instead.]

[chronomancer]

That doesn't answer the question, now, does it?

[Eridan arches both eyebrows as he lets Gamzee manhandle him some more.]

You're bored. Give me a meal and I'll doom myself a few times to let you play~

[hystericull]

I'll get my consideration on of your fuckin' offer if all by what you mean "meal" ain't motherfucking synonymous with "can't get it the fuck up for the rest of the week".

[He pulled his head back, clocking their foreheads together harshly as he did so. The last time he'd given Eridan a snack, he'd practically drained him dry.]

Know you can't get e-fucking-nough of this juice I got, but mirthful fucks, Bulgemunch.

[All right, maybe he was talking himself up. After all, he had no idea if caste made a difference to the hemo-connoisseur, but, fuck, when had it ever been anything but praiseworthy?]

[chronomancer]

[Eridan laughs at that, even if the knock on the head made him a little dizzy. Fucking highbloods and their fucking strength, man.]

I promise I'll do my very best to resist temptation.

[He licked his lips again, leering shamelessly. Accidents happen, okay. What's the big deal!]

[hystericull]

[He settles back fully, balancing with his ass on the seatback, his boots on the seat, and his hands on his hips.]

We do gonna all fuckin' be doing this shit proper - in the most motherfucking provacotive of ways, right?

[chronomancer]

Of course.

[Eridan purrs again, feet planted on the ground to try and provide some kind of counterweight to the ridiculous balancing act.]

Best meals deserved to be enjoy to the fullest, amirite?

[hystericull]

[Relax, Eridan, he's a professional.]

Now that I think on it, could be making some fat motherfuckin' bank if all I brought a recorder grub in on this bitch. Limited amount of films up in here what up and go all to fucking surpass the restricteds in terms of motherfucking ratings, you feel me?

[chronomancer]

[Professional fuckup? Yes, well, so is Eridan, for that matter.]

Yeah, how 'bout no fuckin' way. Ain't your snuff film star, darlin'.

[Plus Equius and Jade would murder him.]

[hystericull]

[He was a self-proclaimed professional in just about everything there was. Things he was actually a professional in? ...Yeah, pretty much just being a fuckup.]

Quit bein' a fuckin' stiff before I'm all motherfuckin' making you one.

[He growled, giving a roll of those purple eyes before getting another idea.]

Mmm, know fucking anything 'bout average revenue to be motherfucking had in terms of rainbowdrinker flicks?

[Gamzee clicked his tongue, tapping his fingernails across Eridan's collarbones.]

I could all be your fuckin' star.

[chronomancer]

Running price is out-of-your-league and fifty cents.

[Eridan snorts, unyielding.]

A meal for a hunt, Makara. Take it or leave it.

[...how did this conversation changed from Eridan wanting something out of Gamzee to Gamzee wanting something out of Eridan?]

[hystericull]

[Because everything is always about Gamzee, all the time. Where have you been, Eridan? Were you feeling all right? Were you thinking he was selfless again?]

Ah-ha!!!

[He laughed unexpectedly, tossing his head back from where it was hung over Eridan again.]

Your ass fuckin' be thinkin' so, huh?

[One condescending chortle later, and he was back to the eye-rolling, tossing in an exasperated sigh for good measure.]

I'm all a brother who's up and enjoying at the finest of motherfuckin' bargaining sessions - but fuck. Ain't gonna even fuckin' be giving me any leeway on the recorder grubs...

[Fuckin' lifeless negotiator. He liked it.]

Barring any and all unfor-motherfucking-seen circumstances, like one fuckin' party gettin' wet and motherfuckin' wild drunk off the purplewine 'til that vine be barren and shriveled and void up at all fucking chances of bearing no mother fucking fruit--

[He snatched up one of those horns again and gave it a meaningful shake. YOU CATCH HIS DRIFT, D O N ' T Y O U ?]

--in which the slighted party (that be motherfucking this motherfucker) e entitled at one round of grub-recorded goodiness, I'd be sayin' we've got our fuckin' selves a deal, motherfucker.

[chronomancer]

[Eridan laughs messily as Gamzee shaked him by the horn, docile in the highblood's grasp as ever. It wasn't that he never bit back, because he did. It wouldn't be any fun if he just laid there and took any and all abuse Gamzee decided to visit on him. But they weren't playing, right now, they were negotiating. And Eridan has manners, after all. He grinned.]

It's always such a motherfucking pleasure making business with you, darlin'.

[hystericull]

Yeah, yeah. Lay it all the fuck on a little motherfuckin' thicker before I all up and get my consideration on to renege this whole fucking ordeal.

[He arched an eyebrow.]

I'm fucking waiting.

[chronomancer]

[Eridan shifts swiftly on that chair, one foot resting on the seat and the other on the floor to keep it from going down and dragging Gamzee with it. For all it'd be funny.]

Lay it on thicker?

[And we're back to purring as he leans in, one hand reaching to tip Gamzee's chin up and expose that throat.]

I can do that.

[hystericull]

[You let that seat go, you die, fucker.]

[What is the proper preparation to have your neck willingly feasted on? Do you swallow? Relax your muscles? He didn't give a shit about "protocol", he was merely interested in the least taxing way to do this. Please bear in mind that "least taxing" is not the same as "least painful". That would be a disastrous misinterpretation.]

[Gamzee's throat is a thick column of ice, Adam's apple bobbing as he takes a precautionary swallow. As Eridan leans in and puts his hands on him, he follows suit, instinctively raising his hands to be placed...]

[Placed where!? What the fuck was this!? They hovered in the air somewhere around Eridan's shoulders, a short exhale escaping in his moment of indecision.]