towerofanimus | [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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[One eyebrow disappears curiously into his hair. He lets his hand fall from his mouth.]

Duh.

But I'm the one that's supposed to be deluded?

You are deluded. Deluded and a deadweight.

Oh, come on, you can do better than that. That was a terrible pun.

It wasn't a pun, it was the truth.

Uh huh.

[Like he believes you.]

Name one useful thing you've done in the sweeps we've been here, and I'll back off. Cross my blood pusher.

[Eridan's smile isn't pretty.]

Look after my quadrants.

[Not that you'd know about that.]

[Karkat's response is swift. If Eridan tries to dodge the hand flying at his throat, he'll find that he won't be able to, as Karkat's mind holds him in place.

His humor is gone and his nails draw blood without flinching. He says nothing, but murderous intent floats in the scleras of his eyes. His quadrants -- well, quadrant -- is a sore spot, at the present.

Kanaya is approaching the end of her lifespan. Its not a secret. And there's nothing he can do about it.]

[Being held in place like this isn't a new thing, but the familiarity doesn't make it any more pleasant.

Eridan smiles in the face of Karkat's best, most sincere glare.

And then he moans. It's a pretty damn convincing moan, that. What are you going to do to him, Karkat? If you kill him, he'll enjoy it, just to spite you.]

[His grip tightens to try and pierce veins. He's not sure he can kill Eridan without chopping him into pieces anyway, but he doesn't care. Its hard enough not to grieve, and she hasn't even left him yet.

She's left so many times before -- everyone has. But this might be the one time she doesn't come back. What then?

His breathing comes in angry huffs through clenched teeth. The result is that it ends up coming out of his nose, like an angered bull. His heart powers buzz in the back of his skull behind the angered beehive that is his own emotions.]

[He chokes on a second moan, as Karkat tears open his skin.]

You're a fool.

[He rasps it out with what little air he can take in, choking on the words and the small laugh wrapped around. But he can't help himself, it's so fucking funny. Few things in life are as fun as smashing all of Karkat's buttons at once.]

And what does that make you?

[Karkat's mouth doesn't move. His jaw is clenched too hard to speak, so it transfers over a mental link between them. He's managed to force himself to release any other grip aside from the one beneath his hand.]

Aside from a simpering bellydragger that gets his rocks off being kicked around by everyone bigger than him?

The unlucky fuck that has to call out your bullshit, Vantas, because no one else dares anymore.

[He moans again, feeling blood ooze from under Karkat's nails, sliding on his skin. Oooh, Equius is going to give him absolute shit for this, he can just tell.]

You're a fool.

Wouldn't that make you the fool, and everyone else smart enough to keep their seed flap closed?

[He's on the verge of snapping. His arm gets taught, Eridan's rifle is only inches away from his hand.]

Maybe. I've always known being someone's reality check is a shitty job.

[He wheezes another chuckle.]

Now let go of me.

Why?

Because I want to fuck you, not start another bloody stupid revenge cycle. How many fucking months did last one take to run its course?

[Eridan smiles.]

I don't want you dead, Vantas, I just want to make you wish you were, you disgusting sack of shit.

Death doesn't scare me anymore, Ampora. I've been here too long.

[The muscles in Karkat's hand begin to cramp, and so his fingers embed themselves just a little deeper to try and alleviate it.]

Its lost its meaning. And I'm not sure snapping your neck will do it for me either.

So don't snap my neck?

But I won't know if I don't try.

Fine, but don't complain to me when it does it for me and I stain your pants for you.

[Aaaand we're back to leering.]

You'll be dead, it won't matter.

[He does, however, suddenly let go without prompting. It doesn't look like there's going to be a smolder contest this time. But he is going to turn and leave Eridan there.

He wants to kill him, sure, like he wants to kill everyone else. But he's far too emotionally exhausted for that.]

Already am, remember?

[But he lets Karkat go without annoying him anymore. At least he didn't get his ass killed. Because that'd be unfortunate. And he'd get yelled at, which is never fun.

OH WELL.

He wipes off the blood from his neck, absently licking it off before he goes back to trying to sew - and embedding needles into the underside of his claws.]

That doesn't count.

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chronomancer - 2013-01-15 00:04 (UTC) - Expand