I'm not always like this, it's something I've become

[chronomancer]

Characters: Jaderi and YOU.
Setting: Caffeteria.
Format: I'll start with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: Eridan's back from a month abroad, and he's very much in need of comfort food. Pancakes are close enough to waffles anyway.
Warnings: Eridan being way more of a douchebag than ever before. Also possibly violence and death if he gets upset. He's got a gun and surprisingly few qualms about using it right now.

[So. Back in tower wonderstuck. Eridan is mildly depressed at the fact this is actually improvement somehow, over... well. That.

But we're not talking about that.

No.

Really.

We are not.

But if you want to talk about something else entirely, you're welcome to approach Eridan, who's sitting in a table by his lonesome, an empty plate of oatmeal at his left and a piled up plate of pancakes to his right.

They ain't waffles but, you know. Close enough.]

Comments

[chronomancer]

This is why you eat pancakes.

[Eridan smiled lightly, carefully not laughing.]

You always know where you're standing with pancakes. Namely you eat the fuckers and don't talk about feelings.

[Eridan arched both eyebrows.]

[hystericull]

[Oh. That's why he liked those fuckers so much. Or... wof- wufals- wafflufs.]

[Whatever the fuck the other ones were called.]

What feelings?

[Gamzee vaulted over the table, flipping his legs over the other seat and sliding them under the table in an awkwardly well-executed maneuver, the only kinds of things that he was even remotely skilled at. Which, what do you know? Had no other purpose that to solidify his place as Most Creepy Thing Ever.]

[He grabbed a pancake. Unlike Eridan's preferred method of devouring the thing like a shark making an example of its prey to a school of quivering fish, Gamzee stuffed the entire thing in his mouth. And then another one. After his mouth had been completely filled with disgustingly fluffy, cakey breakfast food, he decided it would be a good time to be really interested in the pattern of the woodgrain on the table.]

Fuck feelingth.

[Thanks to his lovely table manners, and never being told not to talk with his mouth full, there were now plenty of slobbery chunks of pancake to go along with that interesting woodgrain.]

[chronomancer]

Fuck them sideways with a shovel.

[Eridan smirks wryly in the face of Gamzee's mess. He's used to it, by now, because everything Gamzee touches invariably ends up as a mess. But it's almost comforting in a lame, stupid way he refuses to own up to. Because they're not cool. And they're lame.

And they're done talking feelings. Fuck, if Eridan doesn't have to talk feelings ever again, it'll be too soon.]

I'll even let you use my shovel.

[hystericull]

[They are certainly the farthest from cool. So far from cool they made a detour at the crossing of Awkward and Dysfunctional and somehow wound up smack dab in the middle of Lamesville.]

[He let out an empty chuckle at Eridan's remark, though.]

You really be lettin' me do the motherfuckin' honors on that shit?

[chronomancer]

Mmm, maybe. If you're beating up the feelings, sure.

[He gives Gamzee a half-hearted smile.]

But I reserve the right to critique your technique if I don't like how you swing.