[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

[moonbound]

Imagine so. Not exactly the first time my life's been turned upside down.

[You seem to be way more doom and gloom about it than Ken feels is good, though.]

Won't ask if it's really that bad, 'cause I can smell the bad on this place. Obviously it is.

[chronomancer]

Might be the first time it stays that way though, so be careful.

[Despite all the doom and gloom, the wish for wellbeing is actually sincere. Eridan dislikes it when people get hurt for no reason.]

It's all relative, they value a personalized experience apparently.