Eridan Ampora ♒ chronicAugustus (
chronomancer) wrote in
towerofanimus2012-05-01 03:23 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN][BACKDATED] Stitch me back, one by one!
Characters: Jade!Eridan Ampora, and YOU!
Setting: Floor 15, the workshop.
Format: I'll start with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: In which Eridan pretends he knows how to sew. Spoilers, he doesn't. Backdated to before the Labyrinth event!
Warning: None? I'll add if necessary.
[It's really not that hard, he figures, to use his torn jacket as a pattern and make a new one with some scraps of red fabric lying around. It's just. Cutting fabric and sewing it together. How hard can it be?
Apparently, very hard and not really a project for the uninitiated.
He's left the whole mess on a workbench for now, focusing on patching up his other pair of pants. That, at least, he's relatively used to. It's not the neatest of stitch-work, but at least it'll hold.
At least, he thinks with grim amusement, he has two hands now, to do this. Otherwise it'd be well and truly hopeless.]
Setting: Floor 15, the workshop.
Format: I'll start with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: In which Eridan pretends he knows how to sew. Spoilers, he doesn't. Backdated to before the Labyrinth event!
Warning: None? I'll add if necessary.
[It's really not that hard, he figures, to use his torn jacket as a pattern and make a new one with some scraps of red fabric lying around. It's just. Cutting fabric and sewing it together. How hard can it be?
Apparently, very hard and not really a project for the uninitiated.
He's left the whole mess on a workbench for now, focusing on patching up his other pair of pants. That, at least, he's relatively used to. It's not the neatest of stitch-work, but at least it'll hold.
At least, he thinks with grim amusement, he has two hands now, to do this. Otherwise it'd be well and truly hopeless.]

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[Eridan looks at the pile of fabric curiously and then at Equius own shirt and frowns.]
...there's a good idea.
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[He looks a bit confused at that comment.
Though it's mostly because his mun is a dumbass, no worries.]no subject
[There's a long awkward pause as he finds the right verb,]
trying to replace one of my jackets. Since I ruined one with the... arm... incident, and the other one has seen better days.
[But at least he's finally managed to save himself the shame of bloodstains, mostly.]
I still have a couple shirts but I should probably make new ones rather than... use... the ones with... blood.
[Sob, his poor wardrobe, filled with bloodstains.]
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Right.
That would... be... for the best.
[Excuse him as he casually walks into the other room and stabs himself repeatedly with poisonous arrows.]
[...Okay, that's better!]
...Uhm... I'll help you, if you want, after I finish with these.
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[He offers a small, wry smile.]
I'll be oka--grubfucking shit.
[Yeah, that'd. Be another needle under his claw. Goddammit.]
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[That emote, right up there? That is his expression right now.]
Um... could you wait here for a moment?
[He stands up again and starts looking around the room, peering into boxes and under more mounds of fabric, until he finds a few thimbles -- might as well have one on hand for himself. Yeah, he had the same idea as Kanji.]
Here... put this on your finger. It should help, if that's a... recurring problem.
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Yeah.
[He grabs the thimbles with a grateful little smile.]
Thanks, Eq. And... er, sorry about that.
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[And he sits down, slips on the thimble, and commences sewing again.]
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[Just for good measure, and then he puts the thimble on and goes back to work himself, trying to find a pattern or something to make sense of the complicated art of sewing.]
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[Literally as soon as Equius finishes off the last stitches, he's stood up and around the table, unable to stand Eridan's mangling of a perfectly good garment.] Here-- um... [Whoops, can't sound like he knows what he's doing. He keeps forgetting that Eridan is still above him. It's harder when they don't speak over Trollian as much.] That stitch you're using... it won't hold up for very long... shall I show you a different one?
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Sure, I'd appreciate that.
[He really would, and it's nice to see Equius not cowering about something. Well, for once Eridan's utter ineptitude about pretty much everything ever is paying up. At least a little.]
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Okay... here. See, the gaps between your stitches are very large, which means they won't stand up to very much... really, you'd only use this length for holding things together temporarily. Basting, it's called. Really... see, you have to go back around like this... [And off he goes.]
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...ah, I see. You're right.
[Have a small gratitude smile.]
This one's better.
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[Oh shit.]
[Was that humor?]
[That was humor.]
[He kind of half-twitches his way into a smile.]
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Kinda.
Really.
Fucking.
Cute.]
My poor claws, my god.
[Eridan deadpanned with a smirk, and very quietly admitted he was possibly, maybe, kinda screwed.]
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[Technically what he did right there was chuckle, but it was so rusted from disrepair that it almost sounded a bit more like a choke.] Yes, it starts to ache after a while, doesn't it?
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[He nods slowly, though his smile suddenly turns wry.]
Though, you know, everything does, after enough time, I guess.
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Thanks. You know, for...
[Putting up with me. He raised his little makeshift sewing disaster.]
I appreciate it.
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[He stares at it for a second. At least it's a marginally lesser sewing disaster.]
I don't have many... useful skills. But you're welcome to them.
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But then, it kind of... really stung, sometimes. Sometimes he got this melodramatic urges that were so melodramatic even he realized it. He wanted to grab the scrawny yellowblood by the shoulders, raise him up to his face and explain in detail how many times he's fucking died to save his sorry self-deprecating ass, because the fucking game couldn't be won without him.
None of them were useless. None of them. Eridan knew. Eridan wanted to scream. Eridan sighed tiredly and patted the sewing, voice a resigned drawl, because Equius was Equius, and after the... the incident following Nepeta leaving the tower, Eridan knew better than to try and upset the boy.]
Likewise, Eq, likewise.
OH welp there goes my heart
[That feeling before, that he was kind of really screwed? Yeah, it's back now. Back with a vengeance. Somehow even he managed to understand the intended meaning of the Look, and it felt kind of like a punch in the gut. What had he done this time, though? He... he didn't want to ask, though his face was doing a really good job of doing it for him, along with the predictable punched-in-the-gut reactions.]
[He almost went and apologized for... whatever it was he'd done, but out of a desire to continue keeping his mouth shut, he just stared at Eridan like this for a moment before bowing his head and standing up, intention being to go back to his own work.]
[It didn't really matter what he did, did it? No. There was clearly a jadeblood here, displeased with him. ...Why had it taken him this long to notice that?]
Hang on, it's dangerous to go alone, take this.
The worst part wasn't the look he'd seen on Equius face right before he moved away. Though admittedly that one had gone and hurt real nice. Oh no, no. The point was that there was nothing he could do about it. If he apologized, Equius would twist it around back on him, probably along with another dose of stupid hemospectrum bullshit that he really didn't need.
God, he hated feeling useless, which was usually why he hated himself most of the time. Haha, timepun. Right on schedule. Nothing he did ever worked out right, did it?
So he curled on himself, working quietly. He focused intently on what he was doing, because if he didn't he might do something stupid like storm away and that'd only make Equius feel worse.]
Gira got a REPLACEMENT HEART! ...It doesn't seem to work. :C
[Work. Work was good. He would have preferred some tools and a metal shell to work with, but as long as it was occupying his hands, he could focus more on a thing that made him feel
bettera bit less worse, the signless shirts.][...Oh, if Eridan was making shirts as well, he would want the paint. Though chances are Equius would be out of here before they were needed, because his plan was to leave as soon as he finished. So, under the guise of grabbing more pins, he started setting out a few jars of paint; random colors, but Eridan would see jade in there if he looked carefully.]
I'm sorry, I bought them wholesale. ;C
I wish you wouldn't do that, you know.
[He kept his eyes on his sewing, which was now coming out squished together, tight and nearly bunching up the fabric. His voice was soft and apologetic, lacking the bite of acid humor that he injected on it more out of habit than anything else by now.]
Put yourself down all the time.
Ahh, it's the thought that counts. u3u
Re: Ahh, it's the thought that counts. u3u
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shoot me now. /headdesk
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