towerofanimus | [OPEN][BACKDATED] Stitch me back, one by one!

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.]

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[Eridan snorts, staring intently at his stitches and most definitely not at Equius.]

How would you feel if you knew someone back home who constantly insisted both moons are orange. Or that there's only one moon. Or something like that. Kept telling you over and over, and you know they believe it, and it won't matter that you know for a fact they're wrong, they'll never see your way. But they'll also won't stop insisting about this thing they're so sure about, and which you're dead certain they're wrong.

[At some point, the hypothetical question turned into a full rant. Eridan stopped because he realized he'd bent the poor needle in the process and stared at it for a moment. He sighed.]

Something like that.

But that has nothing to do with--

[...Wait.]

[Loading... loading...]

...That's different.

[Eridan smiled wryly, and chanced a look up at Equius.]

Trust me, it really, really isn't.

Yes it is, because you can look out the window and you can clearly see that there are two moons, and they're not orange, and you can prove to the other person that they're wrong. Because it's a fact.

...well, okay, that's the one thing this is different, but not for the reasons you think.

[He snorts and reaches to grab a new needle, given the bent one will not unbend itself. He sighs.]

I have proof, very convincing proof, it is the most amazing of proofs. But I can't show it to you.

[He pauses a moment, trying to pass the thread by the needle's eye, tongue peeking between his teeth as he does. It takes a few tries. He smiles a little humorlessly at this triumph.]

It's actually rather infuriating. Your lucky number's seven, for the record.

Wet the tip of the string first, it gets rid of the frayed edges. Um. I mean--[...It came out before he could stop himself, okay. Shut up.]

[He looks a bit baffled at Eridan's whole thing there, but charges bravely on anyhow. He's not even going to ask about the lucky number, which is fortunate; there are two things it's easy to set him off on lectures about, and those are the hemospectrum and math.] ...Why? Did you leave it in the Veil or...?

[He flashed a ghost of a smile at Equius request, but it melted away as he asked.]

Oh no, I've known this long before we got stuck in the Veil. It's not the kind of proof you carry around, I mean.

Well... what is it, then?

[He's just completely lost here, and isn't even bothering to hide it.]

[He's quiet for a moment, a long moment, actually, and not just because he's trying to get back into the swing of his sewing, horribly squished as it now is. Or because he desperately needs something to do with his hands least he starts fidgeting with his claws.

At length then, and very, very quietly, Eridan speaks.]

If you were really as useless and worthless as you think you are, the timelines wouldn't doom themselves, after you die.

...That's because I'm the Space player, Eridan.

All of those became doomed because I had to fulfill certain objectives to proceed, and I couldn't do that if I was dead. [Hey, he coded this game, alright. He knows a bit about what he's expected to do -- or at least, he does now. In the beginning he was screaming his head off like a rabid monkey. But that's a different story.] It has nothing to do with my personal ability, only my job within the game.

...even after you were done?

[He arches an eyebrow.]

I'm the Time player, remember? I know a thing or two about doomed timelines.

...

[This, he has no answer to. Good job, you've stumped an Equius.]

Yeah.

[He shrugs, moving on with his too-tight stitches and his guilt complex. Yeah.]

[The Let's-Ruin-Every-Conversation-We-Start Brigade strikes again. He'd figure out what he did in the timeline to cause its destruction later. For now, he decided to jump onto the other half od Eridan's rant.]

...What did you mean about the number seven?

Ah, nothing, nothing.

[Eridan offered Equius a small, wane smile.]

Time player nonsense, that's all.

What... kind of Time player nonsense?

[Great, now he looks worried.]

[Oh crap. Eridan offers a small smile.]

The kind I've already taken care of. Don't worry.

...Alright.

[He doesn't look entirely convinced, but it's not his place to argue...]

[...After all, Eridan is the Time player, not him.]

[At that moment, he seems to realize that there was a pile of fabric and thread on the table that belonged to him, and he wasn't really doing anything with it. It was... confusing, really, all of what Eridan had said. The lucky number he wasn't as concerned about. But the doomed timelines. Why? After he died, why did they all doom themselves? He immediately jumped to the possibility that there was some chain reaction caused by his lack of presence, um... there was only one person who really cared enough about him to react. And that was...]

[...oh. Oh dear.]

...Eridan... if I may ask... um, how did the doomed timelines... meet their fate?

It's... never the same.

[He works diligently, bit by bit, more concentrated on picking his words carefully than keeping his stitches even.]

The alpha is like clockwork, everything has to fit the way it's meant to, or everything goes to hell. It's not always melodramatic, either. But little changes start to pile up, decisions come too early or too late or not at all. Knowledge is never found. Goals are never accomplished. And in the end everything and everyone dies, one way or another, only the alpha survives.

[He reached the end of the thread he'd cut, so he tied it up and leaned in to bite the needle free and start the process again. At least now his row of stitches is a bit more presentable? If on the terribly squished side of business.]

The moment a timeline is doomed, well, it's doomed. Death for all the involved.

[Well, that doesn't make figuring it out any easier, but at least it makes some sense. If everything worked out (somehow), then there had to be an opposite version where it didn't. That would mean that the 'alpha' timeline would be... the luckiest? Or the one that served the most purpose? (He hated to say it, but that was simultaneously worrying and comforting.) So... would there be a timeline where Feferi remained in control? Was that doomed too? Why?]

[So many questions. ...Regardless, he had pried far enough. And they had work to do.]

[Lots of work to do. Especially now that Equius has introduced black shirts to the pool and Eridan has even more things to suffer through.

Joy.]

You shouldn't worry about it.

[He looked over the rim of his sunglasses at Equius, shrugging lightly.]

I'll take care of it.

[And would you look at that? He actually sounds pretty sure of himself about that. Enough it doesn't even need to be overstated. Leave the doomed timelines to him, safekeeping the alpha is what he does best.]

[YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THEM, god. You know, he's always here to do it for you. Though he'd need to take your measurements and let's... not... continue down this train of thought.]

[He nods. Of course there's a part of him that wants to know how this time nonsense works, because that's the same part of him that wants to know how everything works. But, you know, he's actually pretty 0k with leaving it in Eridan's hands, too. Eridan has the knowledge and the tools that he doesn't, so he probably shouldn't stick his nose in, right? Right. So he's justified himself in leaving timeline understanding to the jadeblood, and maybe he could just drop the subject knowing that someone else has got it covered.]

[Maybe.]

[If he shut his eyes.]

[And happened to be particularly delusional that day.]

[YEAH NOPE it's just one more thing to concern himself about, though at least he has a solid argument that no matter what happened, one offshoot was going to come out of it okay.]

...Oh. Did you ever get your time reels sorted out?

[Oh. I see. Two trolls, a pile of black fabric and a measure tape, huh? Leave them alone and see where nature takes them, huh? I get it.

Eridan blinked at the question, then smiled, genuinely pleased.]

Yes, finally. A couple 'a me helped, back when there were like... four dozen 'a us running around. Feels good to have them back in working order though.

[Oh def-- NO. Get your creeper narrative away from me!!!!]

Oh, right... [And even though he made an attempt to meet Eridan's gaze when he smiled (should he? Shouldn't he? Eridan Ampora continues to be a veritable cesspool of confusion), he may have just looked back at his work when the multiple selves were brought up. That was an... interesting discussion. He kind of failed really spectacularly in that one, argh.] ...Um, well, it's good that they're operational again, at any rate.

[Your text says no, but we all know you love my narrative.]

Yeah. Less likely to fuck shit up this way.

[Eridan remains oblivious to how much of a confusing mess he is. To be honest, most of the time he's too busy being confused himself to realize he's confusing everyone within a ten mile radius of the spectacle of sheer fail that is his life.]

Last thing anyone needs is more jade on the walls.

[Morbid much?]

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shoot me now. /headdesk

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