Eridan Ampora ♒ chronicAugustus (
chronomancer) wrote in
towerofanimus2013-02-02 09:16 pm
[CLOSED/OPEN] No words can heal a broken heart
Characters: [AU1] Eridan Ampora & [AU1] Equius Zahhak; Eridan Ampora and YOU.
Setting: Meadow floor (closed/backdated to the January event), Floor 64 (open/current)
Format: Starting with action but I'll match you.
Summary: Two logs for the price of one, lmao so I don't flood the comm: closing up aged up shenanigans, Equius is displeased and Eridan is about to learn just how much. Also back in real time, Eridan finds a deliciously tempting slice of home.
Warnings: Violence and swearing for the Equius log. Eridan being actually honest and pathetic and stupid, for the open one.
[Closed: Meadow floor.]
[He wasn't tired so much as he was trying to hibernate. He wasn't entirely sure trolls, undead or otherwise, actually did the whole hibernation shtick, but he could at least try. Save up his energy. Make his last feeding last. He was pretty sure things didn't really work that way but he was lazy and this was a good enough excuse. So there he is, as long as he is, lying on his back and sunbathing in the meadow without a care in the world.
Not that he didn't have cares. He had a lot of them, actually. But if he started thinking about all of them he'd probably implode. Or go on a rampage. Or both. Really, it was for the best of everyone involved, if he just laid there, soaking up sunlight and carefully thinking of nothing in particular.]
[Open: Desert floor.]
[It's so familiar it hurts, really. The heat, the sand, the occasional blast of wind. It's probably a bad idea to head out, and given the last few terrible ideas he's indulged lately, mostly as a result of the experiment last month, Eridan resists the urge to go.
But he wants to, dear god, he wants to so bad.
He's curled up on the sandy floor, barely two steps off the staircase, staring aimlessly at the distance and quietly drowning in nostalgia. He's never really stopped to sit down and miss life before the Game... but now he does and the wave of homesickness is almost entirely too much to handle.]
Setting: Meadow floor (closed/backdated to the January event), Floor 64 (open/current)
Format: Starting with action but I'll match you.
Summary: Two logs for the price of one, lmao so I don't flood the comm: closing up aged up shenanigans, Equius is displeased and Eridan is about to learn just how much. Also back in real time, Eridan finds a deliciously tempting slice of home.
Warnings: Violence and swearing for the Equius log. Eridan being actually honest and pathetic and stupid, for the open one.
[Closed: Meadow floor.]
[He wasn't tired so much as he was trying to hibernate. He wasn't entirely sure trolls, undead or otherwise, actually did the whole hibernation shtick, but he could at least try. Save up his energy. Make his last feeding last. He was pretty sure things didn't really work that way but he was lazy and this was a good enough excuse. So there he is, as long as he is, lying on his back and sunbathing in the meadow without a care in the world.
Not that he didn't have cares. He had a lot of them, actually. But if he started thinking about all of them he'd probably implode. Or go on a rampage. Or both. Really, it was for the best of everyone involved, if he just laid there, soaking up sunlight and carefully thinking of nothing in particular.]
[Open: Desert floor.]
[It's so familiar it hurts, really. The heat, the sand, the occasional blast of wind. It's probably a bad idea to head out, and given the last few terrible ideas he's indulged lately, mostly as a result of the experiment last month, Eridan resists the urge to go.
But he wants to, dear god, he wants to so bad.
He's curled up on the sandy floor, barely two steps off the staircase, staring aimlessly at the distance and quietly drowning in nostalgia. He's never really stopped to sit down and miss life before the Game... but now he does and the wave of homesickness is almost entirely too much to handle.]

no subject
The sand stuck between his laces will at least give him something to do later. ]
So are you gonna dig a hole here and stake out a meager existance or what?
no subject
[Eridan chuckles softly, fingering the sand and quietly loving the way it stuck under his claws.]
But that'd be kind of a dickmove at this point. I guess it'll be just plan B in the foreseeable future.
no subject
But not this time.
He leans over Eridan to look him more readily in the eyes.]
Or you could look at it as being a favor.
[He can't help but smirk a little.]
no subject
Yeah, no. Tried that, got told it was a supremely fucking stupid idea.
[He sneers, though it's more aimed at himself than anything else.]
Contrary to popular belief, I do try to learn from my mistakes. For all the fuckin' good it does anyway.
no subject
'Bout time you figured it out.
[Pot, meet kettle. He shrugs and moves to the side of Eridan without sitting down, stuffing both hands in his pockets.]
I think Serket left a pair of legs in the freezer, if you need a steady supply. Might be kinda old though.
no subject
[Except not really. But hey, Eridan's deadpan is one of those things that should be almost reassuringly familiar by now.]
no subject
no subject
...are you trying to imply something here?
no subject
Dunno Ampora, are you into exotic species?
no subject
[Don't mind him if he kind of fingers the sand a bit thoughtfully here.]
no subject
Sick bastard. Watch it, you'll make her jealous.
no subject
Hysterical, Kar, fucking dying here.
no subject
Did someone stuff a fistful of sand in your nook? Ligthen up.
[Please. Everything is awkward enough with everyone else, he doesn't say.]
no subject
...nah, just put all my rants about future me into perspective.
[Shudder.]
no subject
Shit changes. Last I checked, we were all slated to be dead in the future.
[He adjusts his blazer uncomfortably, cracking his neck in the process.]
No point in thinking about it.
no subject
[There's a pause and then he sighs.]
Then again, you tend to be. It's very infuriating.
[Take the fucking olive branch, asshole.]
no subject
Yeah. Well.
[Awkward. When was the last time someone actually admitted that? He runs a hand through his hair and looks away, messaging the tips of his nubs.]
Ok.
no subject
You're welcome.
no subject
Tch.
[Eventually his arms would fall back to a fold.]
Whatever. It ain't always a trip, being right all the time.
no subject
[There's a small pause.]
You're still a bulge-sucking son of a bitch, though.
no subject
[Karkat pompously flips his bangs aside with one hand]
no subject
Well, the fucking sand won't munch itself.
[Nor will the nooks lick themselves, he doesn't add. Because he's being polite. Honest.]
no subject
[The little voice in the back of his head is telling him to quit now, but the flash of his fangs suggests otherwise. Gotta have that last word.]
no subject
[Eridan's mock prim voice is a terrible idea and he knows it. He gives Karkat an almost demure look.]
So I don't have a problem switching as necessary.
no subject
It makes his skin crawl.]
Of course you are.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
rolls back to this after con death
/gathers up in arms
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)