002 | Open | Collar Event | Backdated

[strayer]

Characters: A less sane Heine and you.

Setting: Hallways, or specified room.

Format: Action

Summary: Heine's collar has gone down one and along with his memory being warped due to Naminé's powers making him think he is once again young..
Warnings: Violence against anyone that crosses him part from youngins. You get a worried big brother Heine instead.

[Since he has awoken, Heine has been unable to find them. Not a sight of blonde hair or white jumpsuits. He begs to question if this is another test and that is why they are separated. It is not common for them to broken apart, after all they were meant to be a unit.

The halls are stalked without weapon, an expression of worry evident over his face. It does not occur to him that his height has changed or his attire is not of the jumpsuits worn by everyone else. For Heine it is every bit a replication of the complex he grew up in and his mindset placed right back into those long lost days.]

Comments

[chronomancer]

[Eridan nodded and stepped aside, letting Heine look at the window. It wasn't like it was a private conversation, really. Except... well. Gamzee's quirk might be a headache to decipher...

He leaned in, to point over Heine's shoulder, not quite respecting personal space boundaries because... well, he's not noticing. Whoops.]

Here, you browse the posts, and then pick one and reply to it.

[strayer]

[All of it is takes deciphering. After a few glance overs he begins to understand their are quirks, but only on a symbol level. This Heine luckily has no problem with personal space as his future self.]

We never had any of these before.

[Red eyes go over the keyboard at a loss on where to begin. Social skills were not sharpened by any means. Besides, what use did a weapon have in talking?]

[chronomancer]

[Eridan reached a hand to shift the display over to the main board, where everyone's posts were.]

Oh. I... me and my friends, we used these a lot. The only way to talk to each other sometimes. It's... not that hard, once you get the hang of it. You just need to... ah, type whatever you want to say.

[strayer]

[He listens intently trying to comprehend what it all means.]

You don't talk to them in person?

[chronomancer]

No.

[Eridan shook his head.]

Just... my moirail. And sometimes a friend who visited her. I didn't live somewhere others could easily drop by. Then we all met in person, and it got... bad, I guess. It was better when we only chatted through these.

Bitty!Heine would have gotten along with him so well.

[strayer]

[Heine can understand that to some degree. His friends and family were rarely pulled together for good or talking.]

I can get that...we never...met on the good terms.

D'awwww. So cute. Eridan gets along well with the crazy psycho kids.

[chronomancer]

[Eridan grinned wryly, a whole lot of teeth showing, none of them particularly human.]

Makes you wish you never met at all, sometimes, doesn't it?

He wasn't that bad...was he? haha

[strayer]

[Another difference, but not too different as he is reminded of his own sharp canines. Clearly meant for a more practical purpose than eating when made that way.]

Then you'd never know what you missed.

[Or what is worth fighting for.]

well, only when. He got mad.

[chronomancer]

What I gained is not worth what I lost.

[Eridan's face takes on a darker look, the sunglasses gleaming a tad dangerously.]

Poor bitties. All the emotions.

[strayer]

[He flinches at the answer. It is a sore topic and one that brings up fears better buried.]

I'm sorry.

[His dry tone breaks just enough trying his best to show sincerity.]

Tortured little kids.

[chronomancer]

[Eridan shrugs.]

It's not your fault.