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

Entry tags:

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

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.]

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[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.

[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.

It's a really tiny tear, I didn't wanna bug you with it. See?

[...to be fair, it's a very small tear, barely two inches long. Then again, this is Eridan doing the sewing so the half that has been patched has been patched with horribly uneven stitches and there might perhaps be a stain or two of jade blood on it.]

No biggie.

[He's totally not done anything wrong at all. Honest.]

[Not trusting Eridan’s judgement of a small tear at all, Equius reaches for the project in question and examines it closer. Eventually his gaze moves from the favric to Eridan — not that one could tell very easily, seeing as his entire eye had filled in yellow by now, but details. Also headcanon. But mostly details.]

The least you could have done was make a green coat, so the bloodstains wouldn’t have been so obvious.

[But this was Eridan, and Eridan just had to have his dark red longcoat. Equius sets it down again with much the same expression as he picked it up with, that is to say, no expression at all.] Though I suppose it doesn’t matter at the end of the day, considering how much blood this coat will be seeing over the course of its life.

[You know the rules, Equius. He wears your color in his shirt, he wears Jade's in his coat. Now stop fussing and let him grab those hands in his and tug them so he can kiss them.]

I've been good, love.

[He purrs the words out lovingly, trying to reassure Equius that he's telling the truth. Unfortunate disadvantages of a matesprit that knows him and his fuckery so well, though. For now he's just gonna press another kiss to those knuckles and look up at Equius over the rim of the sunglasses.]

Really good, I promise.

[He does. He knows the rules. Still, it’s going to be very unsightly and hard to miss. Right near the stitching. Anyone (well, anyone who’s as OCD as Equius) who looks at him from the side will obviously see NOTHING but the one bloodstain, which has probably set in long enough that it will be more trouble than it’s worth to get out.]

[Equius lets Eridan kiss his hands, several times, looking thoroughly unimpressed with the whole procedure. Still, for those who can read his expressions like Eridan can, he also seems just the slightest bit amused. There are some things that he will never tire of no matter how long this whole Tower mess drags on, and one of them is finding out just how far his matesprit will go to try and convince him that his obvious falsehoods are true. So after watching Eridan deliver a smoulder that would put Flynn Rider to shame, he took his hands back and asked the question he’d actually been meaning to ask this entire time.]

So, Eridan. Did you sense any... anomalies early this morning? [Because he certainly did. Woke him up pretty nasty.]

[Eridan is, has always been and will always be a filthy fucking liar. He lies like he's getting paid per word, with such a straight face it's near impossible to tell when he's actually being sincere. Unless, of course, you happen to be either Equius or Jade, who seem preternaturally gifted in the art of calling Eridan Ampora's bullshit. He doesn't mind.

He does pout gloriously when Equius' takes his hands away. He was just about to start licking those fingers, dammit. Maybe get something nice going. Bluh bluh, cockblocked.]

...you mean if I felt the timeline getting assraped with a rusty chainsaw this morning? Yeah, that kinda sucked.

[He perks up immediately.]

Speaking of sucking, though--

—remind me again how many sweeps you are, Eridan? Because based on your behavior, I could have sworn you were three.

[Professor Oak’s words echoed... There is a time and a place for everything. But not now!]

In any case, I’m not surprised you felt it as well. I wasn’t able to determine the source, however, and I was hoping you were; Tower or not, an emission of that magnitude has to be at least a minor concern.

[Doctor Scratch’s words echoed... Time and Space are very intimately connected, crossing threads in the seams of reality. If you gain control of the one, you likewise gain control of the other...]

You don’t seem too worried about it, though.

[Well, Space and Time could stand to get even more intimately connected right about now, if you ask Eridan's groin.]

's 'cause you're irresistible, Eq. Can't blame an undead troll for being alive and having healthy living needs, can you?

[Shame? What is this shame you speak of? Eridan shrugs though, actually shifting to sit properly as Equius continues.]

Well, technically speaking, we should be dead from that. Because really, that was a pretty fuckin' big and rusty chainsaw, and there was definitely no lube involved in that. Except we're not dead. Well, I am, but I don't count. So probably something big and hideous is coming to try and make us dead. Or Jason spilled coffee all over a control panel or something. Either or, there doesn't seem to be much to do except maybe wait.

[See, there are times Equius just wants to take that whole fabric of reality and rip it thread by thread into a million tiny pieces. Now is one of those times.]

You could do to learn some patience. [Still, a corner of his mouth has picked up in a grin at the compliment.] In any case... you don’t think we should do anything? Not even look around? Or be sure to keep untrained trolls away from small, sharp metal objects when another emission could come at any time?

[Seriously, dude. That was a really inappropriate time to start making a coat, even if you were capable of sewing more than a Beelzenef hand puppet.]

[It's just a tiny tear he's fixing, really! He's not gonna get himself killed or anything!]

...well, I was looking for breakfast when my coat tore, so I got a little bit sidetracked.

[Sulking. Because sulking Eridans fix everything, right? 'sides, c'mon. He can't think clearly on an empty stomach, right?]

But whatever it is, it kind of stopped? So we're probably looking at either the cause or the effect, but not the thing itself. It felt kind of like a one time only thing, really.

[Eridan raises his hands in surrender.]

Plus, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

[Equius finds that hard to believe, sorry. Don’t mind if he goes in for the needle again, sitting down opposite from Eridan and looking at the stain in contempt for a moment before steadily beginning to undo the stitches. His hands worked quickly, quicker than they did years ago, and he planned to pointedly reject any attempts Eridan made at throwing his mouth all over them. He didn’t even wash his hands first, Ampora, do you really want to get sick?]

If anything, the Tower will probably leave it alone for a couple of days as they try to either find whatever was responsible for that or try to replicate the problem. Still, it would be prudent to remain cautious, just in case.

[But then again, not everyone is as hypersensitive to aspect fuckery as he is, so maybe Eridan doesn’t need to look out quite as much. Sure, he’s learned in the past sweeps how to make it less of a problem, but he’s still extremely sensitive for a destroyer class...]

[He's put his mouth in filthier places and you know it, Zahhak. He's not sick because he makes illnesses sick. Or at least that's his excuse.

Seeing as Equius has taken over his work, Eridan leans on the work bench to watch those nice fingers work, sulking a little bit and resting his chin on his folded arms.]

You know me, master of caution. Caution is totally my new aspect. Master is my class. There is no such thing as too cautious for me.

[Yes, he's grinning and teasing, because we all know which of the two trolls sitting in this bench is a suicidal maniac and which one is a reasonable, sensible man.]

[Without skipping a beat:] Oh, absolutely. I didn’t mean to undermine your extensive feats in the realm of healthy and sensible living.

[He was well aware that Eridan couldn’t give less of a fuck about his germ intake if it earned him money for every one. But at the same time, there are some things that are just not great to have when dangerous monsters roam every floor of your home, and being unable to run as well as you could have due to sickness is near the top of the list. This isn’t a happy place, Ampora, and you well know it. Even though the jadeblood could probably just dismember whatever happened to walk in your way, Equius would not be surprised if Eridan had found at least one of his ends through staggering battle hubris.]

[After all, he had more or less grown out of his crippling self-deprecation. Equius kept it around, if only because it served as a good way to control himself when things got nasty.]

Still, growing too confident about it could very well lead to some... compromising situations. [He looked up at Eridan pointedly.] I direct your attention to exhibit A, the white raven incident.

[He opened his mouth to argue that he liked compromising situations, specially ones that involved Equius. And then when Equius continued, he closed it. Colored. Shrugged. Sulked. And finally scoffed.]

Wweh.

[Properly chastised, Eridan watched Equius sew instead. It would infuriate him a lot more, the ease with which Equius both resisted and disciplined him, but he was too full of that twisted, possessive love that found enjoyment in being reminded he was owned, not owner. He lived to get a reaction, a word, a look, a twitch. Anything.]

[Equius knew this, and it would be a lie to say that he didn’t enable it on a few occasions. He was always mindful to throw Eridan a bone every so often — remaining emotionless all the time was just too much of an order for him anyway, even though he would never tell anyone that — and for all of the bellyaching he gave Eridan on a regular basis for how much of a stupid goddamn moron he was (just not in such crude words), he really would not have it any other way. Which is why he smirked a bit at Eridan. Everyone needed to let out a good wweh once in a while, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t sound ridiculous as fuck. Though maybe Equius stopped taking it seriously after the night where they both promised to express their, ahem, feelings in nothing but whines and other stupid noises. God. That was a horrible idea, he didn’t even know why they did that.]

That’s what I thought. [He set the garment down on the table again, sliding it casually over to Eridan.] There’s your coat.

[Eridan puts a hand on the coat and then vaults on the table to catch Equius head and steal a kiss. If Equius weren't four fucking feet taller than him, he'd just need to lean in, but given that his matesprit is on the gargantuan side of thing, these kind of little things quickly turn into not so little things if one ain't careful.

Nonetheless, ought to properly give thanks and mind his manners, after all. Or Equius will get annoyed at him again. Besides, what's a little smooching between matesprits. It's not like Eridan's trying to cope a feel. ~~The table's in the way for that, unfortunately.~~]

[Can you feel him judging you, Eridan, through the lips? Motherfucker, you just jumped onto a less-than-sturdy table. With a lot of small pointy objects on it. In extremely close proximity to your uncovered hand. Just in case Equius could possibly have needed any more evidence to suggest that his matesprit was the single most braindead troll in the Tower, well, he had it here. As a matter of fact, he could also make a very good argument for “single horniest troll in the Tower” as well, but there was really no one for Eridan to compete with in that category. He was just too much of a hideous shit.]

[And yet, that didn’t seem to be much of a problem at all, judging from Equius’ reaction. He made another unimpressed ‘mmph’ in the back of his throat, as usual, when Eridan decided to try some dumbass new thing to get over the height difference (or just for kicks — sometimes it was hard to tell). Still, one way or another, Eridan had a very clear objective in mind here, and Equius was hardly in a position to tell him no.]

[So, fine. You get your kiss for the day, Ampora, you beautiful piece of shit.]

[He can feel the judgment. When aren't you judging him, really? But c'mon, Equius. It's just a rickety table and some needles. He's not gonna die from that. Being already dead kind of helps with that a bit, makes him harder to dispose of. You need to learn to live a little. And the fact your undead matesprit is the one who keeps telling you this should be a clue that maybe you need to look at your life and your choices.]

Don't hmph at me.

[Eridan grins, still nose to nose with Equius, teasing without a second thought.]

I'm just being polite and offering my sincere thanks for your generous assistance.

[Can you tell he's talking out of his ass? Because he's talking out of his ass. Mostly. He presses another small peck to Equius' cheek before standing up on the table, shrugging the coat back on.]

Lemme go find breakfast and then we can go see why Reality's fucking itself sideways again, alright? No sense in rushing into things unprepared.

[See? He can be sensible! Even if rushing into things unprepared is his best skill.]

[Oh, he's well aware that you have passed the mortal threshold already. He'd have to be an idiot not to. But that doesn't mean that he can't still look after your undead well-being, because heavens know you won't, and apparently one moirail just isn't good enough. For that reason, even if you did have a point with the whole "live a little" campaign, he wouldn't be inclined to listen to you anyway... mostly because your idea of "living" could very well equate to bludgeoning a monster and fucking its dead body. You just never know.]

Well, you could certainly do to learn better ways of showing your appreciation. Running around kissing everyone you're indebted to is a very bad idea indeed. [For many reasons, not the least of which being -- for the second time today -- you do have a matesprit.]

Fine. Meet me on the bottom floor in an hour. [Obviously they wouldn't be eating together, as there were no bottles of blood offered in the back rooms. Eridan, of course, has his internal sense of time to keep him on track (assuming he hasn't lost it from that emission)... and Equius built a mechanical pocketwatch because he is dapper as shit. WHAT NOW.]

Not everyone I'm indebted to.

[He has the gall to look offended at the suggestion. Then again, for all Eridan enjoys tormenting people with sexual innuendo and inappropriate trolling, he does have a matesprit, thank you very much. Best matesprit ever, everyone else's just jealous 'cause they can't touch this. He pouts a little.]

Just the cute, irresistible ones. Which at this time in the Tower happen to be down to one in number.

[He grins teasingly, nonetheless.]

An hour, on the spot. Gotcha.

[He's just gonna go and find someone to feed on ~~possibly someone psychotic and highblooded while he's at it~~ and Equius won't have to worry about it at all.]

[Sometimes you concern him, Ampora... well. Alright. A lot of times you concern him. But then you pull shit like that and even through the many concerns he has for the safety of you and the people around, he has to just fold his arms and chuckle a bit. Hey -- Equius has improved in one area over his time in the Tower. At least he can take compliments now. And for all that your attempts to fuck with him fall flat, sometimes they actually work out as desired.]

Don't make a mess.

[...And then he bids you farewell with something like that, and the moment is gone.]

[Eridan grins in delight at that little chuckle. It's not his fault he adores you so much, okay, he can't help it. Making sure Equius doesn't collapse into a singularity of negativity is a task in and of itself, alright? But not one Eridan minds terribly. He crosses his heart.]

Undead abomination horror, I mean, honor, I promise.

[He watches Equius go and then shrugs on his coat, snuggling a little into it before he sets out to find his own meal. Regardless of the results of his hunt, however, he's at the cafeteria five minutes to the hour. For all his faults, and they're many, one can never say Eridan Ampora is anything other than scrupulously punctual at least.]

[That's always been the big challenge with Equius, the negativity singularity, hasn't it? He's gotten a lot better over the years, thanks in no small part to a certain bag of bulges who has dragged him gracelessly through more or less his entire life. And he feels very indebted to the bag of bulges for his efforts, even if he rarely shows it.] I wasn't aware rainbow drinkers had a code of honour, or at least one that ought to be followed.

[And when Eridan arrived in the kitchen, Equius had gone and cleaned up everything he'd used in the past hour. It would be a lie to say he didn't miss cooking random shit for Eridan, particularly during the times where he obviously needed it; at the very least, becoming dependent on no one but himself for food had taught the jadeblood to keep a better eating schedule. So maybe the need to force food down Eridan's throat had lessened. But, as both of them had pointed out many times, Equius' primary purpose in life was to make things, a lot of things, for people, a few people who were deserving of them. He knew it would be pointless to give Eridan something now; with all the time he had, he wouldn't have stopped drinking until he was good and full. But he was going to. One of these days.]

Good hunt?

Edited (ICONSSSSS) 2013-01-16 03:51 (UTC)

Interesting hunt.

[Suckiest part of being undead is the lack of waffles, no lie. It's one of those things he misses sometimes, when his mind is quiet enough to even focus on things like that. Most of the time, he's pretty comfortable with his current lot in life. Then again, he exists in a constant swing between mania and depression. Like one long fall, indefinitely delayed, so it looks almost like flight instead. In Eridan's case, being lucid is the perpetual fall. He can see the floor he's still aiming for and the inevitable crash that'll come when the fall ends. But in the meantime it's manageable. Little bits and pieces of the world that still make sense. So long as he keeps falling, swinging and swaying and almost passing off as something not entirely deranged. He's inoffensive until he's not, a little reckless and very unpredictable at times.

This whole fucked up time mess is a good example. He's not worried or angry or scared. He's fairly entertained. He'll be until he stops being and then someone might die. Or not! Who knows what'll happen? He could, if he wanted to skip ahead, but there's little fun in that, anyway. It's all about the fun, after all, and the moment. Eridan lives in the now, these days, because he'd self-destruct if he didn't.]

Very... interesting hunt.

[He grins at Equius, fangs scrupulously clean - it's impolite to smile at your matesprit with bloodstained teeth. Makes him all the less likely to let you steal a kiss, too.]

I take back my earlier statement. They didn't use a chainsaw to do the assraping. I'm thinking they used something bigger.

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