[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

[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...]

[chronomancer]

[He tugs her to him, fully intending to sit her in his lap if he can.]

There was a twitch, I think. Nothin' too big, though. Just the usual Tower bullshit, darlin'.

[reddeadvirtuoso]

[She didn't put up much resistance to the tug (and let's be honest, even if she wasn't a complete midget anymore, she still wasn't much against full-grown alien stature), and half-flopped and half, just kind of fell on the ground next to him.]

A fuckin' twitch could wipe an army in Russia and every damn single one of us but no way that was-- that was like a goddamn ripple big enough to make a butterfly start bugging out!

[chronomancer]

[Let him just finger her hair soothingly.]

Well yes, but we're not dead, ergo, we're probably gonna wish we were real soon, ergo, it must be fucking Tuesday. It's just tower bullshit, luv.

[reddeadvirtuoso]

[It seemed to be...sort of making her chill out. She did kind of just lay her head down and she wasn't a twitching ball of paranoia. She was just missing the twitching part, and the rest of her rambling is just kind of in an odd monotone.]

But what if it's worse this time it's always fucking worse every fucking time and it keeps happening over and over--!

[chronomancer]

[Eridan pressed his lips to her temple.]

Shoosh, Jade, shoosh. It's not always worse, luv, you're thinking like they want you to. Fuck what they want you to think, just breathe.

[reddeadvirtuoso]

[She didn't seem entirely inclined to buy it, but she did stop a moment to take a deep breath and...hopefully calm down. Maybe a little.]

But I think I'm really shitty at not thinking like they want me to think.

[chronomancer]

Fuck that noise, Strider. You're more than they can handle.

[reddeadvirtuoso]

Then I've done a really bad job at being Strider lately.

[If by "lately" we mean a fairly good amount of years.]