towerofanimus | [OPEN][BACKDATED] Hold out I'll give a little piece of me

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[OPEN][BACKDATED] Hold out I'll give a little piece of me

Characters: (Jade!)Eridan('s blood) and you!
Setting: Fleeing from the infirmary and up towards the dormitory, so stairways ~~because Eridan's not reasonable when he's freaking out this bad~~.
Format: Action but I'll match your preference.
Summary: BACKDATED to Valentine's day. Eridan managed somehow to escape Dualscar's... "attentions", but not unscathed. So now he's leaving a very obvious jadeblooded trail as he flees towards his dormitory ~~so he can hide under his bed~~.
Warnings: Lots and lots of jade green and it's not grubsauce. Will add more as necessary. Feel free to add chocolate shenanigans too if you want.

[Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Eridan stumbled as fast as his legs could take him, which didn't seem to be enough. Maybe running after losing an arm, still bleeding from losing an arm, wasn't the brightest of ideas, no. And maybe if he had been thinking straight, he'd have headed for the elevators, rather than the stairs.

But fuck rational thinking, he's going on the sheer terrified certainty that if he stops moving, if he lets Dualscar grab him again, he's going to die.

He might still die, as it is, what with the blood loss that's also painting a very convenient trail behind him, or the cuts on his throat and his face. But the single important thing is that he's not going to die at Dualscar's mercy.

Fuck that. If he's going to die, he's going to find a nice, cozy corner and then ~~kick the bucket~~ die on his own damn terms. Which at the moment seem to be anywhere but here.]

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[At some point he runs into Willow going the other direction on the stairs. She promptly shrieks in surprise at all the blood; she's spent enough time around trolls now to react that way despite it not being red, and her reaction is just as visceral.

She's mindlessly rushing over to his side, hands fluttering uselessly, clueless about what she can do that won't make it worse.] Oh Goddess, [she says in numb horror,] oh Goddess, oh god. What happened?

No, wait, I'm being stupid, we have to get you to the infirmary! Come on, I'll help you--

[Crisis management. She's done this before; she can do this. She reaches out to help support him on the side with the intact arm, but even as she does, she knows for certain: she can't heal this. It's too much. She doesn't know what she can do, but she has to try.]

[Without the sunglasses, lost somewhere in the middle of Dualscar's little show of affection, Eridan's eyes are expressive as expressive can be. And the moment Willow stops him, every single bit of that primal fear driving his steps becomes apparent. He scrambles away from her, nearly rolling off the stairs in his attempts to scape, because fuck, fuck, fuck. Now who's trying to get a chunk off of him?

He might have bitten her in the struggle to get away. There's a lot of blood, fuck, and it doesn't hurt, except in the arm that's not there anymore, everything else is peachy and awesome and for fuck's sake, just. Let him die.]

[Her heart stops at how scared he is, and she stands, frozen.] --Ow, [she yelps, startled out of her shock when she gets bitten. Willow claps a hand over the mark, but she can't even check to see if it's bleeding: she's still transfixed, staring at him.

She takes a slow step forward, and then stops, giving him space.] ... Eridan. [Her voice is soft.] Eridan, it's okay. It's me. I'm going to help you. I won't let-- whoever or whatever it was hurt you anymore, I promise.

[Eridan bares his teeth at her, a poor parody of a warning, when it's obvious he can't do much for himself, but the spirit of threat is there. He backs into a wall, one hand... his only hand clutching at his shoulder, trying to hold back the blood still dripping down. Eyes wide, he growls, not unlike a cornered animal. The cuts on his face add to the feral look as he presses up against the wall, trying to disappear into it.

Oh god, can't he just get a break? Just for a little bit? He probably deserves it, and he's probably the worst kind of scum for wanting a break from what he deserves, but still. Oh god.

Yeah, it's going to take a little more than just that to snap him out of it, Willow.]

[Why is this her responsibility? She's not good at this. She messes everything up.

Willow takes a breath and forces herself to focus. She crouches to kneel on the ground, feeling like she's coaxing a wild animal and trying to make it clear that she isn't a threat.]

Shhh, it's okay, [she murmurs, just saying what comes to mind.] I'm not going to hurt you. It's just me-- it's Willow. Come on back now, whoever it was is gone and we have to get you to the infirmary, we have to get you-- something, oh god, I can't believe this happened to you.

[She tries to ignore how much this reminds her of her Eridan having to talk her down from fighting the Highblood, and fails. She's so, so tired of all of the violence in her life, almost physically sick of it, and it makes her voice imploring.] Please, come back? Please? I know we aren't close, but I can't leave you like this. You shouldn't be hurt.

[He slides down the wall, inch by inch, until he's cowering in a little ball. She made him stop, and now that he's not moving anymore the wave of pain hits like a punch to the gut, taking his breath away. He lets out a low, pleading whimper, ducking his face into his scarf, which is marred with his own blood. But here and there, Willow might catch sight of a few splashes of a very familiar purple.

The adrenaline is leaving, and he almost wants it to come back, because the only thing replacing it is pain. And... and it hurts. Eridan whimpers again, quietly willing himself to disappear.]

[Estelle practically has a heart attack when she runs into Eridan. She's not used to seeing troll blood, so her first reaction is that he's covered in paint. And then she sees his arm, and...

She gasps, hands going to her mouth. She's been around enough severe injuries that she doesn't completely break down, but his arm...]

Eridan?

[Oh god, the poor thing is terrified. She hesitates, then reaches for his shoulder slowly in a vain attempt to calm him down.]

Eridan, it's going to be okay. I'm going to help you, all right?

[She does an admirable job of keeping her voice steady.]

[She's not thinking about the purple right now, or she's going to lose it with anger. She has to stay focused on helping him.

Which is what she does, thinking quickly. He's calmer and not biting her, but he's in so much pain he's barely coherent. It's obvious what she should do, barely takes her a second to snap up the power. This time, it's a use of magic she can't argue with, has no time to argue with. Willow knows how fast people bleed out.]

Scelus exi, [she intones, tone commanding and eyes glowing faintly for just a moment. The open wound where his arm used to be stops bleeding, and the pain lessens and numbs, not enough to let him forget about it but enough to think clearly. She can't keep this on him forever-- it's extremely dangerous to remove someone's sense of pain in any capacity-- but for now, it should help. She hopes.]

... Did that help? [she breathes, hating seeing anyone this way, least of all someone that looks like a young, green version of her boyfriend.]

[He nearly runs into her. She says his name, and he's... he's a lot less frantic than when Willow found him, but it still takes a moment to place her face. Pink hair. Right. And then he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind:]

I'm sorry.

[He's backing away, slowly, still half a mind to run.]

[She blinks, and nearly asks him what in the world he's sorry for until she reminds herself that this isn't really the time.]

It's all right, Eridan. You're safe now.

[She's doing everything she can not to look down at what was once his arm. She hesitates, loosening her grip on his shoulder and shooting him an imploring look.]

I can heal you, remember?

[Her eyes glowed. And Eridan flinched at the sound of her voice, expecting, irrationally, another dose of pain. Instead, it lessened, enough he could hear his own thoughts, feel the exhaustion. He closed his eyes, feeling miserable.]

...I'm sorry. Oh, Wwilloww, I'm so sorry.

[He returns the imploring look with a whimper, flinching away from her hold. God, he just wants to find somewhere to curl up and hide.]

...you don't havve to. I'm sorry. It's. It's okay, really.

I want to. It won't hurt, I promise.

[In about five seconds she's going to start the incantation regardless, because he is in terrible shape.]

Wha-- no, what are you apologizing for? [She stares at him, relief at her success quickly giving way to being taken aback, almost offended that he's apologizing.]

We need to get you medical treatment, [she urges.] Will you let me help you walk now?

[So guess who forgot to warn Equius about the stairs?]

[...Well, no one knows for sure, but whoever was instated to warn incoming bros about such vandalous elevation fixtures was obviously not doing their job. They also neglected to clean up the steady stream of definitely not grubsauce currently smeared all down the staircase. If Equius hadn't been the type of troll who kind of looks down when he walks anyway, then he almost certainly would have slipped on this not-grubsauce and been sent hurtling downwards.]

[Aren't you glad, Eridan? You should be glad.]

[In any case, as soon as he notices that the green stuff on the floor is not in fact grubsauce, he kind of stands there for a moment, staring at it -- and then takes off in one direction or another on the staircase. It seems he's going up. Blood on the stairs is not something to be taken lightly.]

[He flinches again. He's apologizing because that's the first thing he always does, when something goes wrong. Always. Eridan looks at her with an edge of fear, because without the pain to distract him, everything she says is tainted in his thoughts, and everything seems to be a recrimination for whatever offense he committed that justified the current bout of self-loathing. And oh, he hates himself quite a bit, at the moment.]

I'm fine. Really. I'm sorry, please don't be mad.

[The truth is that she is mad; she's furious, because she has that lingering suspicion that it was Dualscar that did this.

But Willow finds the idea of taking it out on Eridan abhorrent, and she pushes it down without too much difficulty. She'll deal with that later. For now, she makes her voice quiet again, encouraging.] Shhh, of course I'm not mad. I'm just worried about you; you're not fine.

You have to let me help. I can't keep the pain off you forever.

[He raises his hand up, in a placating gesture, except it only serves to accent the fact he's missing an arm. He gives a step back. He's not thinking straight, he's just thinking of Willow and the infirmary and oh fuck the infirmary he's never going back there again, rather than the magic Estelle showed him and oh. Oh fuck.]

It's okay. It's okay. Really.

[Why don't people believe him when he says that?]

[He got as far as floor twelve before he had to slow down and rest. So he's curled up by the entrance to the floor, trying to catch up his breath. Fuck everything. Everything.

Clearly, Eridan wasn't worrying about the possible dangers and complications leaving the stairs coated in not-grubsauce could cause. He will be mortified once he finds out, fear not, but in the meantime, he's busy wondering if he's going to die if he passes out where he is.

And most importantly, if he even cares.]

[Aradia happens to be coming the other way when she sees Eridan running towards her and it doesn't take her long to spot the jade trail he's leaving behind.]

Eridan, what happened?

It's okay. Really. It didn't hurt that much.

[Lying through his teeeeeeeeeeeeeth, yeah. He doesn't want help. He can't even think straight enough to want help, though he really, really needs it. All he wants is to go hide somewhere.]

Don't worry about me, please.

[He nearly runs her over, taking a bit too long to realize who it is. He doesn't want to stop. Oh god, he has to keep going, going, oh god, don't let him catch up with him again. But then there's Aradia and he doesn't want to be mean, but all he wants is to find a nice, cozy corner where to hide away.]

Nothin. It's nothin, just. It's okay. I'm okay.

[Which is why he's bleeding jade everywhere and looking like he's being chased by the hounds of hell themselves. Right?]

You're not okay. You're bleeding. We should probably get you to the infirmary before you lose much more.

[And she'll be reaching to try and grab him so she can do just that]

[He's making no attempt to hide his footsteps, or indeed be very quiet at all. So as he gets ever closer to floor twelve, it must sound terribly ominous to hear someone thundering up the stairs, hmm?]

[He's just about to enter floor twelve, Eridan. If you're going to try and run for it again, you'd be well off to do it now. Teehee.]

No!

[God, why does everyone want to drag him back to that stupid floor? Eridan flinches at the shrillness of his own voice.]

I mean. No. It's okay. Really.

[What does he have to say to convince you? Oh!]

It just looks wworse than it feels.

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[OPEN][BACKDATED] Hold out I'll give a little piece of me

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let me know if you want her to heal him!

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