[OPEN] How much of it's genetics? How much of it is fate?

[chronomancer]

Characters: jade!Eridan & YOU! 
Setting: Workshop
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match you.
Summary: Eridan emerges from his self-imposed exile for a while to clean his rifles.
Warnings: Eridan's deadpan. Potential violence if he gets pissed; lots and lots of rifles. Gamzee. Gory, ironic death via Gamzee. Goddammit, Gamzee.

[He started off with one. And then he doomed himself a few times. And well. It wasn't like he could just let them go to waste, when they started piling up.

Laser rifles need a different type of maintenance than the usual kind, but it's still maintenance in the end.

So there's a sullen troll, half hidden behind a pile of guns, carefully cleaning one by one. It's a methodical and repetitive process, but it's not like Eridan seems to mind too terribly. He's just minding his business, but hey. Maybe if you ask very nicely, he'll give you one.

Maybe.]

Comments

[reddeadvirtuoso]

[Eridan wasn't the only one being sullen or on a weirdo self-imposed exile. Actually it was mostly, Jade didn't really want to leave the room much anymore, mostly due to aforementioned sulking. And it was cold.

Basically what we're trying to say here is, her hair looks like a mess, her white button up shirt had been thrown over her normal outfit in a pathetic attempt to keep warm, and now sitting silently on the other side of the big ol' gun pile. Just staring for a while, before she finally got bored of watching him and said something.]

This is boooooring. [Somehow even less enthusiastic than usual, give this girl a medal.]

[chronomancer]

I think the word you're lookin' for is relaxin'.

[Eridan arches an eyebrow, not looking up from what his hands are doing.]

You should try it some time. It's good for chillin' out.

[reddeadvirtuoso]

If by relaxing you mean the mechanical and physical procedure of giving yourself a sleeping aid.

[That.... kind of made sense when you thought about it. Whatever, she's just gonna prop her head up with her arms now to keep herself from falling over due to boredom or something.]

[selfinteresting]

[Have a 40-something human woman inspecting - without touching - that pile of rifles. She hasn't noticed Eridan yet, but either way, just going ahead and picking up something like that doesn't seem like a good idea, if there's a weapon lying around, it's either a trap, or belongs to someone.]

Hmm, I've never seen a model like this...

[chronomancer]

You wouldn't have, they're custom made.

[Eridan's voice is a bit on the deadpan side, but not outright rude. Might also be hiding a little bit of pride in there somewhere.]

[selfinteresting]

[She looks up and smiles when she sees Eridan.]

Is that so? Did you do this yourself or were they commissioned?

[heavenscorpse]

[V/V has seen a gun. A very special gun, that she was killed by. It's not here in this pile, but she's inspecting it all the same.]

You're working hard.

[chronomancer]

[He hums a little. He doesn't know how to handle random people complimenting him out of the blue, it's kind of novel. Hell, he doesn't really know how to handle compliments, period.]

It's not really hard, you just gotta know how to do it.

[heavenscorpse]

Then you must be smart too.

It was the title, I couldn't not tag with that title

[geometry]

[OH BOY, GUNS.]

[And not just any guns, either -- Equius had seen them enough times to successfully identify those guns as belonging to his very own Eridan Ampora. Never in such a high quantity, though. Holy shit. Where did he even get all those... could they fit in the trunk?]

[Awkwardly floating behind the pile of guns, ahoy. Should he offer to help or...????]

Wait for the day I use an Iron Man quote.

[chronomancer]

[He's just gonna be the awkward turtle here and not sure if he should say hi or what. He's got the valid excuse of being engrossed in his work, okay. So there's that.]

I will wait. Eagerly.

[geometry]

...Eridan?

[Very small voice. Very, very small. He'd actually been hoping to breach the subject of gun lessons at some point, but he looked really busy with all this right now, so...]

Uh, can I ask you something? Quickly?

[terreifying]

Heee~ey. Where did you get so many guns? Can I play with one?

[Looks like Rei noticed the large number of guns lying around.]

[chronomancer]

No.

[Eridan paused a moment to look at Rei before going back to work.]

[terreifying]

Why not? I promise I know how to shoot one. I won't cause any accidents.

[papshooshing]

[ there's something to be said about trolls that have sleeping issues. mainly that Karkat still hasn't really had much of a sleep schedule, going on for days or weeks without. maybe even a month. hell, even right now he doesn't know when he has slept last.

but that's also an issue with piles, isn't it? trolls make them. they make them all over the place and while Karkat doesn't fucking understand what is up with that, he doesn't particularly care whose pile it is. don't care what it's even made out of as long as a wand doesn't go up his waste chute.

so that's what's happening, kids. Karkat face first into that gun pile to sleep.

because he doesn't trust anyone in his room either, really. ]

[chronomancer]

[...welp. That sure just happened, right now.

Eridan takes a moment to watch Karkat, blinking behind the sunglasses, before heaving out a loud, put upon sigh.

Then he goes back to cleaning rifles, though he tries very hard not to upset the pile while putting the clean ones back in and pulling out the dirty ones. It's like playing jenga, except if you screw up, you get a crabby troll screaming - at least that's what Eridan imagines - or at worst, you get to shoot yourself which is one of those stupid ways to die that he's trying to avoid.]

[papshooshing]

[ only that is not likely to happen. this is the troll kid that had slept on the cold, hard laboratory floor and stayed that way with trolls all around him. this is Karkat Vantas who will, in the future, fall asleep in a horn pile and not even wake when his dreaming self is right next to him.

in other words... he sleeps like a fucking rock.

and if that pile does dislodge? chances are that Eridan is suddenly going to feel a body against his or...

well hello floor, it's good to meet you again. ]

[moonbound]

[One thing Ken's been learning is that there's a time where his human form is far more practical than his wolf one, even if he's more comfortable in the latter. A bunch of presumably jumpy people in a tower that, despite his short stay had so far proved to be an incredibly awful place, and would therefore presumably have a very bad reaction to a wolf the size of perhaps a small pony, was definitely the place to blend in. Also it helped to be able to speak.

Walking into this new room and seeing a giant pile of guns gave him pause though. Despite Japan's strict gun laws, he's had a few run ins with hunters, he knew what those things could do and didn't really like them.]

Damn. Have enough of those things?

[chronomancer]

[Eridan shrugs, not looking up from his work.]

Had enough at one, but the rest sort of happened.

[Because you know, guns just randomly grow in trees or something. Totally.]

[moonbound]

How's that, they just appear out of nowhere?

[Kinda shifty, but as long as you don't grab one of them in a threatening manner, he'll be able to deal. You do, though, he'll be four legged, furry, and out of here in a flash.

...also no he has no concept of social cues, he'll just sit down over here and continue bothering you because he is shameless.]

[hystericull]

[Solitude is a good thing. Solitude lets the inner turmoil work itself out. Solitude can bring you down from the edge of going fucking shithive. Solitude, in turn, can make you feel like you're going shithive all over again.]

[A brief respite from his loneliness finds Gamzee in the workshop, of all places. Lots and lots of things have taken place in this room. Some good, some bad, some... confusing, some morbid, some...]

[He's standing behind a pile of guns that he knows he's seen many, many times before. The last time they'd seen each other, his head was still a mess. The time before that... well, he wasn't sure if "mess" could do justice what was going on in his brainmeats.]

[Because of this, one question had always seemed to escape him whenever an opportune moment to ask it had arisen. Gamzee stood still, staring down unfocused at the rather impressive pile of firearms before him, and definitely not at the troll that was working so diligently to clean them all.]

The fuck wasn't you all up and being to let me fuckin' use at one of these little nasty motherfuckers the first time 'round, you selfish-ass mother fucking bulgechafe?

[With a rough nudge of his good foot, a few of the guns at the top of the pile went rolling forward, creating a small avalanche of metal and wood.]

[chronomancer]

[Eridan made a long-suffering noise as the top of the pile rolled out of order. Again. He gave Gamzee a look over the rim of his sunglasses, the reproach there more because of how long it had been since he last saw the clown, than his destructive antics. Although Eridan shouldn't really judge, considering how long he'd been in hiding himself.]

Because shooting your own head off is one of the most stupid ways to die, Gam.

[Make of that what you will, juggalo.]

[nightfowl]

[Did Haken just walk into an armory? He's kind of impressed with the sheer pile of guns. And then he sees... some alien cleaning them. He gives a friendly wave.]

So, is this the armory or is this a close encounter of the well-armed?

[chronomancer]

Heh.

[Eridan smirks a little, shrugging.]

The second, actually. This is the workshop.