[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

[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.

[nightfowl]

Workshop, eh? Reckon that means you made these.

Quite a collection you've got.

[chronomancer]

[He shrugs pointedly, face as deadpan as his tone.]

You could say that.

[Cagey, annoying kid is both cagey and annoying.]

Are you new?

[nightfowl]

You could say that. Name's Browning. Haken Browning. Bounty Hunter and captain of the Zeit Krokodil.
[and he tips his hat to the weird troll kid.]

You happen to see any princesses around here, particularly any with a skimpy dress and a large pair of cannons?

[He's gotta find Kaguya somehow, and he gives the best description he could possibly think of.]

[chronomancer]

[Out of habit and since he doesn't feel particularly antagonistic - yet - Eridan nods along as if anything Browning's saying means anything to him. He shrugs, again, at the question.]

Don't think so, no, sorry. Though there're people who fit one or two of those descriptions independently. I think.

[nightfowl]

I guess two out of three ain't bad. Should be grateful I somehow got transported to a tower full of people that match at least half of that description. I'll find her eventually. Can't keep a lady waiting.

So, Gun Show, you make these or are you just something of a collector?

[chronomancer]

Mmm, you might be glad not to find her, though.

[He busies himself cleaning a rifle and not looking up.]

Half and half. I don't make them anymore, because I don't have what I used to make them, so now I just keep track of them.

[nightfowl]

Well, her not being here means I get to flirt more with the ladies. That's always a good thing, and I wouldn't wish this place on anyone. Though I reckon she's fine back on the Endless Frontier, I'd feel a little better if she was here and not playing Schrodinger's Babe.
[Not like that's ever stopped him before...]

[Haken continues to watch him clean rifles.]

What'd you use to make the things? Doesn't seem like ordinary metal would be hard to find in a place teeming with monsters.

[chronomancer]

[Eridan listens to the tirade about babes and kind of stares a little. He's an impressionable kid, okay, and it's delivered pretty flawlessly, so he's not cracking deadpans yet. Yet. The comment about monsters does get him to stare a little though.]

...putting aside the question of what the heck monsters have to do with metal, I just don't have the tools anymore.