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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Okay, um...

[Equius looks around, to see if there are any more future Eridans looking to commit bodily harm upon the original, but none appeared, so he focused his attention on Eridan and what the hell that shovel had done to him. There was no blood, as far as he could see; internal bleeding, maybe, but nothing external. So, um... concussion...? May... be...? He kind of sat there for a minute, trying to keep his face straight and remember how the hell you're supposed to know what a concussion looks like at the same time. It's not easy, and his face starts to phase back into the typical worried look while he thinks.]

[...Er, okay. He was knocked out for a few seconds there, right? That's what it looked like. Already not a happy sign. Um... shit. He squinted through Eridan's shades; at close range he could see through them, but there's no way to see if the pupils are dilated when he can't actually see the pupils.]

...Um, do you think you could open your eyes? Please?

Will jump off a cliff, see if I don't. See if he likes that, the asshole.

[Eridan muttered angrily, glad at least to know his nose wasn't broken. He startled a little at Equius's questions, tilting his head to the side and actually looking at the guy.]

What? Oh.

[He pulled himself up to a sitting position, taking off the sunglasses. He blinked a little, to adjust to the light-level, then offered Equius a crooked smile and a shrug.]

It's okay. See? It's just a concussion and a criminal headache. I'll punch future me for this at some point, and then it'll be fine. At least the fucker didn't knock out a fang.

[His expression didn't soften so much as turn wry.]

Don't worry about it.

N-no, please don't jump off a cliff... or punch anyone... um. I mean. [STFU SELF.] Just... be careful? Don't... don't do anything like that, uhm... if you really did sustain a concussion, we don't want a relapse, alright? [Equius Zahhak: stand-in nurse, seamster, lesser math deity, social cripple.]

...you say that like my entire life isn't a concussion in the making.

[Eridan's deadpan is safe and sound, though, isn't that great? Can you imagine the world deprived of such glorious deadpanning skills? The wryness intensifies.]

I'm sorry. Just... don't worry. This kind a' thing... happens. It's no big deal.

[Oh, praise the lord. Eridan without his snark would be like... well, it would be unnatural is what it would be. Still, it doesn't mean Equius is going to turn around and realize that everything's all fine and dandy because he's still practicing the higher art of deadpanning.] I know, but if you do something like that again while it's still healing, then it's probably going to cause something worse. You don't want to have brain damage until you die, do you?

[Oh dear.]

...is that a trick question?

[Eridan leaned in a little, squinting up at Equius somewhat. Yeah, he might be... a little confused. Whoops.]

[Deeeeeeeeeep sigh. Calm down, now is not the time for flipping shits.]

No, it's... it's not a trick question. See... [He sits down completely with legs folded, brushing off the floor first (as if that's going to help). This is going to take a while to explain. Expect lots of arm movements.] Um, when you actually get a concussion, it's... well, you take an injury to the head, and your brain... er, it kind of slams against your skull. After that, you just need to... you know, take it easy for a while? Because if you don't and you push it too hard while it's still healing, um... something can get seriously damaged. And... you won't be able to get out of it until you die again.

[It's kind of a disjointed explanation because he has to stop every few seconds, either to try and calm down or stuff back the part of his brain arguing that he shouldn't look so damn smart in front of a jadeblood. But, uh... he probably knows way too much about this stuff. And knowing Eridan, he would probably go into the future and try to punch the other one back.]

[Eridan snorted again, darkly amused. He let his head drop slightly to the side, listening to Equius voice but mostly staring at his jaw as he talks.]

Alright, alright. It's okay, I won't do anything rash.

[He let out a soft huff, closing his eyes for a moment, and reaching up to massage the base of his horns, where the headache was quickly settling in.]

As far as brain damage goes, I think I prefer Gamzee's methods... Thanks, Eq.

[After a moment, he reached a hand and patted Equius' knee, flashing him a smile as he rolled back to his feet. A tad less gracefully than usual, but not much. Eridan offered a crooked grin again, as well as a hand for Equius to stand up.]

Good thing sewing ain't that strenuous, right?

Gamzee's methods? What are you... [Wait, Gamzee's in the tower? ...Or does he mean the other Gamzee? Probably the other one, he would have seen ~~terribubble~~ terrible cat puns on the Network by now. Besides, Gamzee doesn't exactly commit brain damage to things, unless you count animals.]

[The expression on his face when Eridan petted him was... well, let's just say hilarious and leave it at that. Regardless, he took the other troll's hand, though of course after a moment's consideration -- 'being offered help by a jadeblood' vs. 'being offered help by a jadeblood'. Regardless, the side that wanted to listen to Eridan's command won out, and he did so -- though not without noticing the slight stagger.]

...Mm.

[Eridan swayed and tried to hide it by leaning in and looking at Equius over the rim of his sunglasses.]

Don't eat the pie.

[He sounded very serious, very severe as he said that. Then he shuddered.]

Trust me on that one.

[He just... stands there for a moment, looking at Eridan. And then...]

...We're going to the infirmary.

...why?

[But he just sat down... And he's fine! Honest.]

Are you okay?

Because-- you-- [He siiiighs again.]

I'm fine. You, however, are speaking nonsense, and you can't even stand up straight, so yes, we're going to the infirmary.

It's not nonsense!

[That. Oh boy. That might be close to a whine. And if Eridan is unconsciously curling up in his spot, much like a scolded grub, you will say nothing. He's trying to pick up his sewing from where he left it, except it fell under the table in the interlude, so now he's leaning down, one hand holding onto the bench while he reaches under to grab his work. He can't stand up straight, ha! Nonsense!

It's all about twisting yourself into the right shape and holding tightly onto the right things. He was fine, damnit, and he'll show Equius.]

You asked about Gamzee and brain damage! I'm just offering wise advice, stay the fuck away from the pie. Sopor hangovers are hell.

[Yes, this is your cue to make him smack his head into the bench.]

...Wait.

Sopor? What?

[He is missing something here.]

[Something really important, that smells like grapes.]

Yeah. Gamzee, not our Gamzee, the one here. The highblood. He eats baked sopor. Ow, fuck.

[Yeah, he banged his horns into the bench, trying to get back form under it. He eventually emerges, dubiously victorious, with his sewing in one hand, and the other hand buried into his hair, rubbing at his hornbeds.]

And he's all too happy to share, too. Stay away from it, though. The hangover lasts like a week.

[No, it doesn't, but it feels like it.]

Eridan!

[Excuse him while he combination groans/whines at you.]

What did I just tell you?! I... come on, I don't care, we're going to the infirmary. [And he stands up and grabs Eridan's arm. Hopy shit. This kid means business.]

[Eridan looks at Equius, looks at the hand on his arm, then slumps his shoulders and proceeds to indulge in one of his one true talents: sulking.]

...fine, fine. But we're going to walk all the way down there, just to be told there's nothing wrong with me.

[He paused. Then choked on a laugh.]

...aside everything that's fucking wrong with me, that is.

They're not going to tell us anything. We're getting ice for your head. [Seriously Eridan, we all know that you got hit in a shovel and something got fucked up. Hopefully it'll be over in a few hours.]

...that's exactly what I meant.

[Saving dignity, what dignity? Oh right, his dignity is imaginary.]

How?

[He's waiting by the stairs now. There's no way in hell that he's going to let Eridan out of his sight.]

[Reluctantly, he follows after Equius. Dear god, he's awoken Nagzilla.]

...er. Timeloops?

[Because when in doubt, timeloops.]

[He has absolutely woken Nagzilla. Ze Nagmonster. Arnageddon.]

[Despite this, he actually considers the answer of 'time loops' for a second before deciding, correctly, that it's total bullshit. He decides to add it to his list of citations for the "Eridan Has a Serious Cranial Injury" campaign.]

...Right, right. Time loops.

...well, I tried.

[Eridan shrugs sheepishly, following after Equius in a sulk.]

[Sighing, Equius chalks it up to another one of the many mysteries surrounding the thought processes of Eridan Ampora, and continues. Eventually, they reach the second floor with only minorly bruised psyches.]

[Equius got an ICE PACK!]

...I'm guessing you would want to go back to your respiteblock, instead of staying here?

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