[OPEN] you waste your time with hate and regret

[chronomancer]

Characters: Jade!Eridan Ampora('s half dead carcass) and YOU.
Setting: Floor 12.
Format: Action, but I'll match you.
Summary: Nobody told Eridan sleeping in this cold is a bad, bad idea. What did you expect from him? He knows how to survive extreme heat, not extreme cold.
Warnings: Jadeblood popcicles. Jadeblood popcicles for everyone. Also Eridan sliding down the slippery slope of murderously batshit crazy, yay.

[Watching the universes ending and stars imploding and the whole thing... it's rather soothing. Sort of. Eridan was in dire need of soothing things, to put his mind back together. He'd intended to maybe sit there for a couple hours, watching the stars dying, and trying to calm himself down from an abrupt, nonsensical rage that even he could tell was irrational. He'd been pushing down a bubble of hysteria for the better part of four days now, mostly because hysteria meant bad, bad things for all involved, but maybe if he went at it slowly, it wouldn't be so bad. Because meltdowns totally work that way, obviously. Though even he had to admit that he couldn't keep on pretending everything was right and peachy. Putting on a smile and going through the motions was getting almost physically painful, but he didn't want anyone to get hurt. (And of course, being a responsible troll and asking Jade for a feelings jam was not an idea that occurred to him, either, because what is doing the right thing, haha, you must have confused him for someone else, Eridan Ampora never does the right thing unless Paradox Space has him at metaphorical gun point about it.)

Eridan watched the cycles of destruction repeat over and over again, while he tried to put order to the mess that is his head, but it wasn't long before he started feeling sleepy instead. Not really knowing any better, and given the alternative was thinking more about Rei and such, he started nodding off, fueled by the cold.

Which is why you'll find him tucked away in a corner of the room, face buried into his knees, arms around his ankles and limbs already stiff. The sleeves of that jacket have been brutalized already, but hey. At least there isn't a single bloodstain on this floor.

Yet.]

Comments

[hystericull]

[If there was ever a more incredulous look, it would be a sin.]

Don't fuckin' knock at this shit til all you be motherfucking getting your tries on at it, motherfucker.

Devoutees-only gig, usually. But I think I can be warping the motherfuckin' dogma a little to paint you up somethin' bitchin'.

[chronomancer]

Because last time you got me to try something new, it worked out so well.

[Puke, puke everywhere. Have some more of that broken up laughter.]

[hystericull]

Can't fuckin' seem to recall.

[Hey, look, he's getting a little better at the deadpan? Not as good as the true master, though.]

You raggin' on my motherfuckin' believings, motherfucker? 'Cause that all be a motherfucking cull-worthy offense.

[chronomancer]

I thought breathing was a cull-worthy offense?

[But he shrugs, snorting.]

If I'm going to rag on you for something, it ain't gonna be what you believe in.

[There's a pause.]

Specially since I don't even know what the fuck you believe in anyway.

[hystericull]

[A smirk.]

You think bitches need a motherfuckin' understanding to get their rip on of something?

[chronomancer]

Bitches? I don't care.

[He smiles humorlessly.]

Me? Yeah. I'm not very heavy in irrational lashing out, remember?

[hystericull]

[Scoffing.]

Coulda fuckin' fooled the shit out of me.

[chronomancer]

Just because I'm fucking good at it doesn't mean I like being good at it.

[hystericull]

Gets you all the bitches, though.

[He smirked. It was obviously not the moment for poorly-executed lewd humor, but there was never not a moment for humor as far as Gamzee was concerned.]

Ain't nothing in this fuckin' world a little faith ain't goin' to set right. I'll set your ass up with an express conversion.

[chronomancer]

[Gamzee is being ridiculous enough that it's taking Eridan effort to keep up with him. And that helps distract him somewhat, from the current screeching in the back of his head.]

...how does that even work?

[hystericull]

[He smirks thoughtfully, rolling his eyes up in concentration.]

Involves somethin' which with what I ain't motherfuckin' dabbled in too fucking long. Consider this brother your motherfucking pastor and tutor, schoolfeeding you a harsh cram sesh all up right before the pious examinations.

[chronomancer]

...are you supposed to be not making any sense at all?

[Grammar? What's grammar? Eridan's confused.]

My head hurts.

[hystericull]

It all 'cause you talk too motherfucking much.

[He reached forward, pressing his palm against Eridan's mouth and wrapping his fingers around the side of his face.]

Just fuckin' listen at me and my wicked word, brother.

[chronomancer]

[Eridan snorted, but resisted the urge to bite Gamzee's hand. He dead-eyed the stupid juggalo for a while instead, arching an eyebrow as if to ask "WHAT NOW?"]

[hystericull]

[He lowered his head, a knowing smirk played across his lips as he slowly slid his hand from Eridan's mouth.]

Do you got them motherfuckin' believings yours situated up in the noise of the miracles, my grumpy brother?

[chronomancer]

If by miracles you mean the most fucking firm belief that if there's any slim chance for shit to bad, it will, despite statistical impossibility? Sure as fuck do.

[hystericull]

[He grinned.]

More all like shit be goin' down whatever the motherfuck way it all be up and wishing for itself to happen at a brother. Ain't no rhyme nor mother fucking reason for them glittergods to bestow upon their circus ninjas nothing but what be the purest acts of whimsy.

Do you all some worlds of motherfuckin' good to jump through them comical rings that be placed all at before your lookstubs, 'cause it be at their mother fuckin' behest.

[chronomancer]

So.

[There's a pause. You can almost hear heavy machinery whirring inside his head.]

Just do shit for the fuck of it.

[hystericull]

If your pump biscuit up and all be tellin' such noise in you that way, who the fuck be your motherfucking ass to go the fuck ahead and give the negatory on it?

[He shrugged limply, raising his hands a little.]

[chronomancer]

[Eridan gave Gamzee a look. But he looked tentative now, less sure of himself, and definitely not as bitchy or snarky as usual. Quick, Makara, he's vulnerable!]

...uh. Someone with passing self-restraint?

[hystericull]

[After a year here of honing his skills, harnessing his senses and strengthening his ability to detect any sort of weakness in his opponent, Gamzee recognizes his chance to deliver a swift religious infodump when he sees it. Eridan is like a helpless, fumbling foal, separated from its parents while Gamzee plays the part of evangelical carnivore on the prowl.]

[He gives Eridan a somewhat odd smile. Not quite condescending, but not quite genuine.]

What you got your motherfuckin' believings on up in, brother? If it ain't be in my miracles?

[That weird look was still on his face, and he reached up to place a few fingertips against Eridan's forehead.]

Not what you got whirrin' and kickin' around up in your fuckin' pan.

[Those fingers trailed down to hook in the collar of that Aquarius shirt, Gamzee's palm pressing against the symbol there.]

But what you got speaking at you in your mother fucking spirit, dog? Got somethin' what gives you a hope what when you ain't havin' nothin' else what fuckin' does?

[chronomancer]

Uh.

[Eridan stared at Gamzee somewhat uncomprehending, blinking slowly. What did he believe in? Causality. Temporal Stability. Predestination. Paradox. If he had a god, it was Time. Not in a personified sort of way, the sort you make offerings to and hope to pacify enough to get something nice in return, no. But more like an unmovable force in the universe that just doesn't stop. But how to explain that to someone who didn't feel time, quite the same way he did?]

I don't know...?

[Oh god, what did he just get himself into?]

[hystericull]

Well, that's bein' what's your fuckin' problem all is, bro.

[Gamzee shrugged. He might not have felt time like Eridan did, but Eridan didn't feel the security of faith as he did. Of course, if he'd have known about Eridan's complicated relationship with time, he could have probably used that as a springboard for delving into the intricacies of the kid's personal flavor of spirituality. As it was, however, he'd have to go with his gut.]

[Suddenly, he grinned, as if some giant, demented lightbulb had sparked between his horns.]

I know. Fuck, ain't it all just so motherfuckin' simple when you get all to up and take the mother fucking time out for thinkin' on the shit, brother?

[He could almost giggle. Maybe he did.]

You be havin' a motherfuckin' crisis of faith, brother.

[Stop calling him "brother". It replaces all other monikers when he gets into faithchump-mode.]

Your believings ain't motherfuckin' gettin' their match up on with what's all goin' the fuck 'round in your sacred pump of pumps. What falsities you all got flowin' through them little green vine-veins yours ain't nothin' what's resounding with them instincts you got already in your spirit house. You feel me, dog?

You need a different set of sparklies cultivating what's all wanting to be brought out in you, motherfucker. Gotta tread all on the path what was bein' up and made for you, bro. Get you feelin' like you ain't doin' everything wrong all the fuckin' time.

All what's you know right now been tellin' you to act whatever fuckin' way what ain't really jiving with what you know be feelin' right inside your guts, right?

That's what's motherfuckin' all got you twisted the fuck up inside, right?

[chronomancer]

[That's a lot of words. He knows most of those words. Most of the time, he can say he understands Gamzee pretty well. But that's a lot of words. Eridan sort of stares at Gamzee, trying to understand, but he's cold and not really there, entirely, and that's a lot of words.

Eridan makes a sort of confused, frustrated noise, staring at Gamzee through slightly glassy eyes.]

[hystericull]

[Ka-ching!!!]

[Score one for the tenacious televangelist! Gamzee leans forward, putting his hands on the wall on either side of Eridan's head. Nowhere to run.]

Just fuckin' all say at me that you be believing in them fuckin' miracles, bro.

Come on, motherfuckin' say it.