[OPEN] I guess that I don't need that though

[chronomancer]

Characters: [AU1] Eridan Ampora and OPEN!
Setting: Workshop.
Format: Starting with Action, but I'll match you.
Summary: Nearly fifty years later and Eridan still sucks at this sewing thing.
Warnings: Heavy handed sexual innuendo, attempts to make your characters uncomfortable, lewd bad jokes, Eridan being as trigger-happy with that gun as ever. Also Eridan being the troll-equivalent of a vampire, so expect him to glow if startled and shamelessly ask if he can bite your characters.

[There's a jadeblood sitting on a workbench, struggling with thread, needle and a really long, red coat. He's grumbling at it, squinting between each stitch and occasionally growling ferally at it. Sunglasses stuck on his hair, which is still black and green, Eridan seems to be slightly absorbed with his task. The short sleeve tshirt he's wearing is not very well suited for the cold, at least not without his coat, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's no longer wearing his sign on it, as it's just plain black with a small detail in yellow lines near the hem. His sign is now on his pants, black as well, stitched in jade along the lower part of his right leg. Shame the whole thing is dirty and slightly stained by blood and things you probably don't want to know the origin of. Rifle is, as always, resting by his side, an easy snatch away.]

Every fuckin' time, I swear...

[He shakes the whole thing in frustration, as he's once again, stabbed the underside of a claw with that needle. You'd think he'd be better at this, given how long he's been here. But nope. Some things just never change.]

Comments

[terreifying]

Heeee~ey. What'cha doin'?

[Rei had changed from her time in the Tower, looking less like a scrawny teen and more like an average-sized woman. Her hair had grown longer and was now in a small ponytail. She had glasses and a labcoat, giving her the air of a scientist.]

[She knew Eridan. To her, they were friends of sorts. Or, well, as much of friends as two people with such different personalities could be.]

You need help with that?

[chronomancer]

[Eridan greets Rei with an easy grin that's more than a little leery. It's his usual expression these days.]

If my help you mean fuckin' miracle, hon, you'd be correct.

[Yeah, he's definitely leering.]

Gonna shine some angelical light on me?

[terreifying]

[She slowly shakes her head.]

God helps those who help themselves, Eridan. It's the reason you were given knowledge--to be able to accomplish with your own hands what God can't accomplish for you.

[hystericull]

[They need to raise the stairs in this fucking bitch.]

[Winding his way up the spiral had never been an issue when Gamzee had first arrived here. But that was... who really knew how fucking long ago that was? Who even really cared? It was so far out of Gamzee's usual mullings that he had given up keeping track. He'd given up on a lot of things, actually. Like attempting to fit himself into the parameters of socially acceptable behavior like he had tried to do for sweeps before. He'd given up on thinking that he would ever be functional, ever be stable - and as much as that made life harder for everyone else, it instantly made his a hell of a lot mother FUCKING easier.]

[One thing it couldn't change, though, was the annoying pain of smacking the shafts of his gigantic horns on the tier of steps above him. He looked like he'd been put through a fucking taffy pull - everything sprouting out of control. Some days he wondered if he'd ever stop. Maybe one day he'd be bigger than this fucking Tower. THEN WHERE THE FUCK WOULD THEY KEEP HIM!?]

[Soured by his most recent injury, Gamzee dropped off on the floor in front of him. The workshop. This fucking place was as good as any to stalk around on. And what interesting prey there was to stalk today, of all days.]

[His speed was something he'd discovered to be quite useful. Useful for carnage, useful for easily gaining the upper hand, and, right now, useful for following the ever-hilarious flow of harshwhimsy wherever the fuck it may take him. Looks like it took him in the blink of an eye and a shadowy wisp behind a cranky fart playing with some needles. What all a motherfuckin' sour-assed prick we got all up and running ourselves into on fucking what holy day such as all today is.]

[Bending at the waist, Gamzee curved all the way forward to peer at the handiwork that was being done in front of him. He arced himself until those beanstalk horns hit the opposite end of the table, halting his movement.]

[It would be a clear-as-day fucking miracle if this surly jadeblood were able to continue his work, now that a grinning set of impossibly long, twisted fangs surrounded by a ratted mass of hair was obstructing his view.]

[The teeth and hair said nothing.]

[chronomancer]

[This is his life, this are his choices. Eridan takes a moment to look up at the ceiling and sigh dramatically before staring at that nest of fangs with a sullen expression. ...well, he'd look up at the ceiling if he could, but the sentiment was there.]

Do you want a needle in the eye, Makara? 'cause I can totally help you there, bro.

[And then he leered. Because when the fuck wasn't he leering at someone.]

Should've expected you to be a kinky bitch though, shouldn't I.

[hystericull]

[Gamzee remained silent for a long while, grinning at things it was sort of difficult for him to see. His hair was even a fucking nuisance to himself sometimes.]

[The drool was starting to run into his nose. That was as good an indicator as fucking any that it was finally time to respond, acknowledge that he had been spoken to. With a wheezing, manic chuckle and a drawn breath, the grin - that now was becoming a little painful - never faltered.]

You all motherfuckin' was being known at us for enough times to up and all motherfucking answer that for your fuckin' own, motherfucker!

[Eridan's leer was met with a pair of crazed purple eyes as a clump of twisted curls were shaken away from them. They squinted and stared and crossed in this perverted moment of glee.]

[reddeadvirtuoso]

[How long had it been? How long had it been since she'd seen Eridan even? Years? Months? She honestly couldn't remember how fast the normal speed of time was, only that Eridan looked kind of old. And she hadn't seen him in the last few days, so it was entirely possible it had been years. Could it have been centuries? Did God-Tiers age normally....?

The point being, Jade wasn't exactly as kept together as she used to be. Her hair, though still kept short, was much more choppy than when she was 14, from many unsuccessful attempts of her cutting it herself. She had a red sweater and black pants that only actually fit and weren't total pieces of rags thanks to England-- though the many stitches and patches were still obvious. Her scar was...well, it was more than a little worse for wear, it was hard to believe it used to be normal, green and striped with all the rips and stains.]

Eri. [She spoke up, standing before his workbench, watching him try to sew, and honestly she didn't think he'd ignore her but-- she wasn't really sure how long it'd been since she'd first tried to get his attention?]

Eri? [Wait, now how long had it been? How long was he gonna mess around with that needle jesus fucking christ--] Eri something happened. Did you notice--?

[chronomancer]

[Eridan looked up and narrowed her eyes at her for a moment. She didn't look hurt, which was a good thing. But otherwise... otherwise he softened considerably. He set the sewing aside.]

C'mere, luv, what's wrong?

[He reached for her, voice soothing and dripping pale, because here was his moirail, upset about something. Of course he needed to listen and tend to her. And then he'd go and murder the fuck out of what had upset her. Because that's how this works.]

[reddeadvirtuoso]

[She absent-mindedly reached out and took a hold of his hand, but it was obvious her mind was on other things-- or maybe the fact that she was currently looking around for some kind of boogeyman that would've been the clue.]

No clue. But I'm pretty sure something just fucked up-- like in time or something?

[Having to explain herself though, she wasn't sure if that just happened or if it was last week...]

[heavenscorpse]

[V/V tilts her head at the sight. If she's been affected by the event, it's impossible to tell from appearance alone.]

Do you need some help, Eridan?

[chronomancer]

Maaaaaaaaaybe.

[His grin is easy as he looks at V/V.]

Don't suppose you want to give me a hand or two, hon.

[heavenscorpse]

Sure! [She hops over.] But I don't sew well.

[geometry]

[Hey, Eridan. Remember all that time you spent announcing loudly to a lot of people, including Equius, that you were going to catch up to him in height someday? And not just because of a horn or hair technicality either? And that it was going to be glorious? You did. The whole spectacle was short-lived and kind of hilarious. Equius silently wasn’t so sure whether that was even going to happen, but you sure as hell were.]

[And it never happened.]

[Nearly twelve feet tall (not counting horns), hair only just now tied back in a very loose approximation of a ponytail, it didn’t really matter how Equius’ body type lent itself to nonpresence in a past life, or a past time — because he was certainly present now. And he’s standing over you, Eridan Ampora, arms folded and wearing an increasingly common lineface. They’ve been over this many times before. There are some things that some jadebloods are good at, like sewing, but he is just not one of those jadebloods. It’s really better to leave the arts and crafts to the people who can actually secure two strips of fabric together without drawing blood.]

You’ve forgotten the protective eyewear today, Eridan.

[Don’t want anybody accidentally, oh, I don’t know, reaching over to wave hello to someone passing by and STABBING THEIR GODDAMN FACE.]

[AGAIN.]

[chronomancer]

[Oh no, the feared Matesprit Disciplinator. Eridan's still a little sore, because it was bloody hard to reach those damn eight feet of his, dammit! He'd been proud! Proud, dammit!

He wilts like butter under a hot knife before Equius, though, slouching a little and looking up at his best beloved sheepishly. Then, very pointedly, he reaches for the sunglasses and tips them down on his face, before giving Equius the brightest, most innocent smile of them all.

That's totally what he meant, right?]

Whoopsie.

[geometry]

[Yes, the Matesprit Disciplinator, who has somehow over the years become competent at disciplining anyone about anything. Up go the eyebrows at Eridan’s little adorable smile, though. What a sleazeball he has himself tangled up with.]

Those glasses hardly constitute as protective and you know it.

[They’ve been over that before, too... okay, they keep needles away from people’s eyes, sure. But are they powerful enough to deliver the degree of protection that Eridan needs against the perils of the thread? HE DIDN’T THINK SO. ...Still, he doesn’t seem to be doing much about it, so there you go. So he just shrugs.]

Well, if you think you’ve learned enough to actually make something without injuring yourself, I’m in no position to stop you.

[caliginous]

When are you gonna give up on that shitty hobby, tinkerbull?

[Age had done Karkat a few favors height-wise, but that had been about it. He was still fairly short, for one of his caste, though tall enough to give him a much lankier appearance than he had once had. His pupils have filled out to their cerulean color, including the strange eight pupilled eye.

He knows the rifle isn't far away, but all his time in the tower had long since chased away his fear of death, so he steps into the room with his hands stuffed into his pockets, plopping his ass up on the nearest table.]

You're completely terrible at it.

[chronomancer]

[Eridan looks up to give Karkat a very brief sneer, before he leers at him.]

Dunno, hon, when are you gonna let me fuck you with a rifle?

[caliginous]

[The cerulean's head tilts to the side in an avian fashion.]

Sounds short term. Didn't think you were into that kind of thing.

[He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small leg of roasted chicken and begins to pick it apart.]

What are you even bothering for, seriously?

[cullscuttlefish]

Did you just stab yourshellf again? One of these days we need to get someone to make you a set of claw protectors or somefin.

[Feferi laughs - and her laughs don't come nearly as easy as they used to, these days. But she manages them enough, when they're warranted. She's still young for an adult troll, all of twelve sweeps, but she's seen enough and done enough fighting that it's made her get a lot more serious than she used to be.]

[chronomancer]

Maaaaybe.

[Eridan shrugs at the accusation, arching an eyebrow at Feferi. If he notices something odd about her, he chooses not to let it show and instead makes a point to shrug dramatically.]

If you love me, and of course you do, because how could you not love me, you ain't lettin' Eq hear you say that, Princess. You'll give him ideas an' not the fun kind I'd appreciate.

[cullscuttlefish]

Ideas? Oooooh. Well, we can't have that, can we? Unless they're the fun kind.

[She just laughs.]

I guess I can let it slide this time, so long as you promise not to bleed out all over the plaice.

[papshooshing]

Because you're so damn twitchy and trigger happy.

[ that sure is a Karkat, who had been passing by. looks like he's coming back from a shower himself. no long sleeve shirt. just a plain, black tee with a sickle through the belt loop. ]

[chronomancer]

[Have a tongue sticking out at you, Karkat. Relish in the fact that you remain forever the untouchable, because even if he's a deranged, lascivious asshole, Eridan still honors his deal with Gamzee. Plus, he just fucking loves you anyway, you stupid shit. Who doesn't?]

I'll have you know some consider that part of my charm, darlin'.

[warriorscribe]

*The more Enoch climbs, the more he sees, the more he doesn't like what's happening. Watching others age around him has always been prelude to departure and heartbreak. This troll, he isn't sure he's met, so the impact is, thankfully, absent. He approaches the frustrated troll man, eager for a distraction.*

Do you need help?

[chronomancer]

That or a hero.

[Eridan raises up his poorly done stitches to squint at them with a sight.]

Might need to hold out for a hero til the end of the night.