towerofanimus | [CLOSED/OPEN] No words can heal a broken heart

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[CLOSED/OPEN] No words can heal a broken heart

Characters: [AU1] Eridan Ampora & [AU1] Equius Zahhak; Eridan Ampora and YOU.
Setting: Meadow floor (closed/backdated to the January event), Floor 64 (open/current)
Format: Starting with action but I'll match you.
Summary: Two logs for the price of one, lmao so I don't flood the comm: closing up aged up shenanigans, Equius is displeased and Eridan is about to learn just how much. Also back in real time, Eridan finds a deliciously tempting slice of home.
Warnings: Violence and swearing for the Equius log. Eridan being actually honest and pathetic and stupid, for the open one.

[Closed: Meadow floor.]

[He wasn't tired so much as he was trying to hibernate. He wasn't entirely sure trolls, undead or otherwise, actually did the whole hibernation shtick, but he could at least try. Save up his energy. Make his last feeding last. He was pretty sure things didn't really work that way but he was lazy and this was a good enough excuse. So there he is, as long as he is, lying on his back and sunbathing in the meadow without a care in the world.

Not that he didn't have cares. He had a lot of them, actually. But if he started thinking about all of them he'd probably implode. Or go on a rampage. Or both. Really, it was for the best of everyone involved, if he just laid there, soaking up sunlight and carefully thinking of nothing in particular.]

[Open: Desert floor.]

[It's so familiar it hurts, really. The heat, the sand, the occasional blast of wind. It's probably a bad idea to head out, and given the last few terrible ideas he's indulged lately, mostly as a result of the experiment last month, Eridan resists the urge to go.

But he wants to, dear god, he wants to so bad.

He's curled up on the sandy floor, barely two steps off the staircase, staring aimlessly at the distance and quietly drowning in nostalgia. He's never really stopped to sit down and miss life before the Game... but now he does and the wave of homesickness is almost entirely too much to handle.]

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[Gamzee had never really been in a climate this sizzling. Back home was more moderate, if he could put a term to it, he guessed. At night it got real cold, and it made him feel like a rusted out machine, locking up and staying still. The days were warmer, but he spent most of that time indoors sleeping anyway.]

[Here is was just. Warm. Hot, really. He rather liked it. His body was kept cool by the blood that usually worked against him in relation to comfort. The sand was warm, too, a little hot under his bare feet (because who in their right mind keeps their shoes on when walking on sand? Gotta feel them grainies in your toesies.)]

[He'd really come here to work some shit out in his head. Hearing the buzz about the new floors, he thought it a good opportunity to check some of them out and scope for a prime pondering spot.]

[Of course, nothing ever went his way, and as soon as he put his feet in the sand, it seemed, he was trampling over some stupid sack of shit who decided to park themselves right by the fucking staircase.]

[What fucking idiot would--]

[Ah, Christ.]

...I'd ask on if your ass all were fuckin' dead or what, but a motherfucker think if you were, there'd be some hungry little scavengersquawkbeasts getting their peck on at your nads right the fuck now.

...hello, Gamzee.

[Eridan looks up at the highblood with his usual lack of emotion, one eyebrow arched. He's not sure he wants to deal with him right now, especially not after what happened during last month's mess... but on the other hand, it's always so easy to deal with Gamzee. It's almost reassuring. He arched an eyebrow.]

I'm pretty sure scavengersquawkbeasts have better taste than to try and eat me. I don't make for an appetizing carcass.

[Gamzee nodded in consideration, lifting a hand to his chin.]

Yeah, you fuckin' got me there, dog.

[He crouched down to Eridan's level, taking a moment to wiggle his toes further into the sand.]

You taste much motherfuckin' better with grubsauce.

That's just asking for a brother to go on a ramble about what you taste like, Gam.

[Eridan arches an eyebrow at the highblood, expression wry.]

[Gamzee's lip twitched, but his grin stayed on. Shifting to a more comfortable squatting position, he chucked one of his shoes at Eridan's stomach.]

I take it we ain't all skirting that motherfuckin' subject, then.

[Eridan snorted.]

When do we ever skirt over shit?

[That's like admitting shit bothers them or something. He throws a handful of sand at Gamzee in retaliation, mostly a half-hearted gesture at best.]

[Gamzee quickly weighed the pros and cons of answering that mainly rhetorical question. If he responded, it would be admitting that recognizing their problems was even something to be considered, thus negating the entire foundation of this relationship. Touchy position. When in doubt, avoid things. He quickly switched tactics, spitting sand out of his mouth. Most of it stuck to his face because of the paint on it, which had become tacky in the heat.]

Would you get your fuckin' useless ass up off this ground 'fore the both us motherfucking bitches get our shit stomped out!?

[Eridan grinned, almost tempted to deny Gamzee just for the sheer pleasure of being a brat, but nodded instead.]

Alright, alright, no need to get all worked up about it.

[With a sigh, he nudges the rifle out from where it's half buried in the sand, and stands up almost gracefully, taking a moment to stretch his limbs.]

Better?

[Watching Eridan with a bored expression, Gamzee took his time standing up after the other had risen. It was a pleasant surprise, however, when he did stand up. Gamzee was certainly not as tall as he had been before, and therefore didn't have to double over to catch a glimpse of Eridan's face. That was refreshing. He merely tilted his head down a little to see him, giving a little shrug of indifference.]

Unless you were all to having come here with the fucking intentions of bein' steamrolled.

[Letting out a wet breath, Gamzee let his tongue loll out of his mouth a little. For fuck's sake, was it hot. It had felt nice at first, but damn.]

Now that I think on it, any particulars on why the fuck you motherfuckin' did chose this joint to take a cuddlefest with Old Blue?

[Eridan watched Gamzee's not so subtle struggles with the heat with a somewhat meanspirted amusement.]

'cause it reminds me of home. My hive was in the desert.

...Oh.

[Insert awkward pause here. Well, he supposed that was a good reason, after all. Kind of made him feel like a pussy for deliberately avoiding the new beach floor. But, growing up in this atrocious heat?]

Sorry to fuckin' hear it - motherfuckin' lords is it all ever beastly!

Eh, it ain't that bad. This ain't that bad. You can stand under the heat and not feel like you're gonna be served with fries.

[Eridan snorts, and then hooks an arm with Gamzee, tugging the lankier boy towards the stairs.]

Let's get you the fuck out of here, though. You look like you're melting.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

[He whirled Eridan back around, a maneuver made easy by their arms now being linked.]

Ain't been this motherfucker's intentions to all up and harshly, like, uproot some gangsta from where he all been getting a straight zone on at, you know?

Shit, if this be your spot, man, you ain't gotta leave on account of my motherfuckin' ass.

[He puffed out his chest. Pure masculine troll, honey.]

It ain't so bad.

[Eridan snorts, tugging back at Gamzee.]

But I'm also fucking starving and they're serving waffles for a change.

[MOTHERFUCKING WAFFLES, MAKARA.]

Let's go get some of that magic shit. I don't even care they're slathering them in sugar.

Ughhh, not them soggy spongey motherfuckers!

[He recoiled in disgust, but it was more for show than anything else, because it didn't take much more tugging for him to start towards the stairs again.]

[As they began the quite long descent, Gamzee tried working some saliva back up in his throat, seeing as it had all been evaporated before.]

Surprised you fuckin' were to be all choosing a mother fucking sand nap what's instead of hightailing it to them scrumptious brothers, yo.

[Absently, he wondered if they were going to get the shit kicked out of them for even speaking to each other again, let alone walking with their arms like this. He was also realizing thata wat had started in his head (LIKE HE REALLY NEEDED ANOTHER) between being a pussy-whipped bitch and being a rebellious fuckwad.]

All them motherfucking soggy spongey miracles.

[He's teasing mostly, flashing Gamzee a lopsided smirk, before he finally lets go of his arm to stick his hands into his pockets.]

Decided to take it slow. You know. All things considered.

[We're so not talking about what happened, what might happen or what any of that means. Plus... honestly? Fuck everything. Murderbros before volatile, violent, homicidal Matesprits with a chip on their shoulder.]

Ah, right, your, uhhh...

[...]

Whatever the fuck that was.

[Honestly, rainbowdrinkers were not something he'd ever encountered outside of stupid literature that bored him within the first few sentences. That was another thing he was trying desperately not to think about. You know what, how about that weather??? Oh, they were in a death tower, right.]

Remind a brother all fuckin' again why he be subjecting his fucking self to all be watching you shove some squishy nasties the motherfuck down your throat? Ain't what I be having in mind when it all come to entertainment, motherfucker.

Edited 2013-02-07 03:48 (UTC)

[Eridan gave Gamzee a look. It was a look that implied the highblood was inherently broken in the head. Which was kind of truth, anyway, despite the fact so was Eridan.]

Because once I'm not starving, we can go murder our frustrations out on some poor unfortunate monsters.

[Because everyone knows the best cure for everything is slaughtering a bunch of fuckers dead.]

Uh... oh! Ahaa. Ahahaha... AhahahahahaHAHAHAHA!!!

[Oh, boy. There he went. If this was anyone other than Eridan, there would probably be some sort of negative reaction stemming from Gamzee's sudden hysterics, the way he pressed both palms to his forehead and raked his nails across his scalp. Yeah, it was so FUCKING SIMPLE. Why the fuck didn't it occur to him to use violence as an outlet!? Was he turning into that much of a soft bitch that the urge to flay things with his claws and teeth didn't even register anymore?]

Hahahaha, ahahahahaha honk honk honk honk!!!

[He couldn't stop, now. It was so funny. All of this stupid noise that was having been transpired over the past... oh, fuck it, over the past lifetime they'd been here, fighting with himself and realizing there was no stopping his mind from overhauling itself in a few sweeps, fighting with Tavros in a sabotaged relationship the brownblood was going to stick out until it met its assuredly grisly end, having a moirail you abandoned frequently while refusing to open up to, feeling so empowered and out of control and powerless at the same time, being terrified and disgusted with yourself for feeling that way--]

[Through every thought whirring through his head, he laughed, attempting to drown them out with the noise. He continued down the stairs, though, as if he'd just heard the most fucking hilarious thing in the universe.]

[Eridan arches an eyebrow as Gamzee throws himself fully into a laughing fit. He wasn't scared or angry or upset in any way, really, except perhaps the fact he was still hungry. He waited for a long moment, but when Gamzee started honking, he realized this was going to take a while.]

C'mon.

[He reached to grab onto one arm.]

Walking and honking, Makara. Those fucking waffles ain't gonna eat themselves. Gotta make our way downstairs.

[Oh, oh, God, that was good! That was fucking rich! Walking and honking! Oh, fuck!!!]

HONK HAHAHONK HONK HONK HONK!

[You little asshole, Eridan. He's just going to be falling all over himself trying to find his way down the stairs, one hand still twisted in his hair, the other clamping on to Eridan's upper arm for balance.]

HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK!!!

[He was making a fucking racket, now. Can you imagine waffles trying to eat themfuckingselves!? Maybe, in some fight for dominance, they'd resort to cannibalism!!!]

C-c-canni-- ahahahahaha!!!

[It was getting a little difficult to catch his breath, now, tears prickling at his eyes. He felt like he'd inhaled some heavy duty nitrous oxide, as it was becoming uncomfortable. In fact, he desperately wanted to stop thinking about soggy waffles, because he much felt like puking. That, however, had not as much to do with waffles as it had to do with... well, everything else.]

[In between peals of laughter, he'd twitch his face, his head, multiple times with varying force. Arguing off his headmates for the time being. Shut up, go away, he was trying to laugh, come back later. This was his much-needed crazy fit, and Eridan always seemed to be the lucky party to host it.]

[As they neared the lower levels, Gamzee's breath was finally failing him. Serenading the tower with a honking solo was not the way he'd envisioned this day to go at all. After he'd quieted, he felt predictably miserable again. With a wipe of an eye, his gaze swept over the cafeteria.]

...They always serve them with the motherfuckin' sugar goo?

[Gamzee was loud, when he got it into himself to start honking like that. Pretty fucking loud, really, but Eridan didn't care. He only made sure the highblood didn't trip over his feet - not going through that shit again, fuck that - and that they didn't run into any monsters. Other than that, he was patient audience to the worst of Gamzee's antics. It took him a moment to reply, as he processed the fact that was an actual question.]

Well, they do if you don't tell them otherwise?

[He pulled a face, shoving his hands into his pockets and strolling into the cafeteria like nothing had fucking happened.]

Will they all be giving at me only just the goo? I ain't wanting none of them fluffy fuckers. Make a brother fucking barf his bikesack up on the motherfuckin' floor, if they try and hand that shit at me.

You'd drink that shit straight?

[Eridan gave Gamzee an odd look because. What the fuck dude, that's so much sugar. How aren't your teeth rotten... oh wait, they probably are. Yuck.]

But yeah, they'd probably give it to you if you asked.

[Astute observation, Eridan. Gamzee's teeth left a lot to be desired. Crooked and cavitied but impossibly sharp, they probably hadn't seen a brush in perigrees. As with everything hygiene-related, he really didn't give a shit about how pretty his teeth were. He loved sugar, and if it wanted to rot his mouth, so be it.]

Fuckin' bitchtits! That's what I motherfucking want, then!

[He grinned excitedly, stepping behind Eridan and giving him a few persistent shoves on the shoulders to hurry him along.]

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WOW A WAR* NOT THATA WAT THANKS PHONE

GOOD JOB

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