[CLOSED/OPEN] No words can heal a broken heart

[chronomancer]

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.]

Comments

[hystericull]

[The cursing was music to Gamzee's sponge clots. For once, he wasn't the one on the floor after getting served with a nutcracker, and it felt fucking great. Stupid, filthy virginbloods and their stupid, filthy affinity for trying to castrate everyone else.]

Gotta be all up at guarding the motherfuckin' assets, bro.

[With that, he casually tugged the drawstring of his polka-dotted pants, letting them slide down his bony legs and slump to the floor. Exposed now were a quite shiny pair of steel briefs, which he may or may not have bedazzled.]

[chronomancer]

[Eridan stopped swearing long enough to stare.

And stare.

And then stare some motherfucking more.]

...what the everloving, grubfucking hell, Gamzee?

[Needless to say, he's not exactly impressed by your amazing, bedazzled undies.]

[hystericull]

[HOW ARE YOU NOT IMPRESSED!?!??!?!??]

[Gamzee looks down at his own crotch, making sure that he and Eridan were, in fact, witnessing the same garment. He also belatedly realized that he was standing, pantsless, in the middle of the cafeteria. He couldn't find a solitary shit to give about that, though.]

Them ain't the motherfucking words of praise I be all expectin' to hear fly outta your chute, motherfucker!

[chronomancer]

[Eridan tears his eyes away from that glittering monstrosity to look at Gamzee in the eye. And then he gave him the loudest eyeroll in the history of audible eye expressions.]

I'm sorry, but I actually need to eat first before I start puking on command.

[hystericull]

[With a lift of his lip that was far more scathing than necessary, Gamzee stepped one leg out of his pants, using the foot of the other to kick the hideous things at Eridan's face.]

Beat you fuckin' there.

[And then, in an act of stunning maturity, he turned on his heel and made off back towards the food.]

[chronomancer]

[FLAILING. FLAILING AND TRYING TO GET THOSE HIDEOUS THINGS OFF HIS FACE, BLUGH! Once he's no longer in contact with those pants - great, now he needs a shower - Eridan glowers at Gamzee's back - and his steel-plated ass.]

One of these days I'm going to fucking kill you, Makara. And I'm going laugh while I do it!

[hystericull]

[From the waffle line:]

Already motherfuckin' have, brother!

[chronomancer]

[Eridan dragged a hand across his face, before he balled up the pants - g a g - and threw them at Gamzee's head.]

Put on your pants, Gam.

[hystericull]

[Quickly dodging them trousers, he honked out a laugh.]

Fuck the motherfuck off, bro! You got a long ways to go before gettin' the right to order peeps around like some fuckin' jadeblood lusus.

[He'd hang on to the pants, but he rather liked the freedom of air on his legs.]

[chronomancer]

Do you want syrup or not?

[If he has to bribe you with sugar, he will very fucking well bribe you with sugar, you assface.]

[hystericull]

[Gamzee's eyes went wide. No fucking fair, he wasn't used to negotiating techniques specifically catered to the juvenile. He glowered, not wanting to show defeat.]

...They ain't got fuckin' none at here, though...

[chronomancer]

They do, you just don't know the magic road to sugar high.

[Eridan snorts, arching an eyebrow at the highblood.]

So happens I do, though. So get those fucking pants back on, or you ain't getting any.

[hystericull]

[Gamzee stared at Eridan for a long while, skeptical as ever. One could practically see the rusty cogs trying to turn in his pan as he carefully weighed the pros and cons of each decision.]

[With a long-suffering huff, he stuck a foot into the waistband of those polka-dotted monsters.]

...Promise!?

[chronomancer]

[Eridan smirked at Gamzee, spreading his arms in a 'who, me?' gesture.]

Has a brother ever gone back on his word to you?

[hystericull]

[Vague squinting, and a slightly open mouth. He was really, REALLY trying to remember.]

Uh...

[Tapping a few untamed fingernails to his lips, gnawing on one or two of them in the process.]

Actually, I ain't never been recalling a motherfuckin' time what all you fucking have, motherfucker.

What a fuckin' pussy-ass angel you're all at motherfucking being, now.

[He laughed, quite obnoxiously, stuffing the other leg in his pants and hiking them back up around his non-existent hips. With a tug of the drawstring, he then proceeded to take forever remembering how to tie the a bow.]

[Hopbeast ear... hopbeast ear... over... around...]

[Ah, fuck it. He ended up just tying a quadruple knot in the thing and calling it a day.]

[chronomancer]

Well, someone has to balance out your fucking bitchery.

[Eridan gives Gamzee the sweetest, most loving middle finger in the world, but once those pants are up again, he saunters over to provide the stupid fucker with the required amount of syrupy goodness necessary to make the clown shut the fuck up for a while.

God, friendship is so hard sometimes.]

[hystericull]

[The "required amount of syrupy goodness" was precisely one (1) bowlful of sticky sweet goo. Not those shallow piece of shit bowls where the liquid slops out with each slight movement, no. The nice, deep bowls that keep everything in no matter how rowdy mealtime gets. And let me tell you - it was about to get real rowdy.]

Ooooh, fuck, fuck, fuck.

[Eyes wide and grin plastered on his face, Gamzee practically bounced from foot to foot waiting for Eridan to get his food, holding the bowl (which wasn't as good at keeping the substance in as I had originally praised it for) in both hands, syrup rolling over the edge and coating his hands from all of the jostling.]

Hurry the fuck UP, MOTHERFUCKER!!!

[chronomancer]

[Eridan is utterly unruffled by Gamzee's screaming and his fussing over syrupy goodness, instead going over to pile up a few waffles in a plate for himself.]

Goin', goin'. See?

[He shows his plate with a risen eyebrow.]

All set, let's goo.

[hystericull]

[Why did he even bother waiting for him? What a grave mistake - he wouldn't let it happen again.]

[Running over to the nearest table, Gamzee threw his (now clothed) ass into a seat, dropping his bowl onto the surface in front of his excitedly. He'd forgotten utensils. I use the term "forgotten" very loosely, because, honestly, he never uses utensils in the first place.]

[So, he ate the bowl of syrup the only way he knew how - by dipping a few fingers in and raising them to his mouth. He didn't bother to let the excess drip off before moving them, though, so he got a shirt and lapful of maple mess.]

[chronomancer]

[...how attractive.

Eridan sat at the other side of the table, hopefully far away to avoid the syrupocalypse going on there, and began to methodically work his way through a pile of waffles.

At least he didn't get shit all over his clothes. Like certain wigglers he knows.]

[hystericull]

[Too bad, so sad. If you're gonna cry about his table manners, you can leave him alone with his bowl of syrup, fuck you very much.]

Mmm... lemme fuckin' help you out with that.

[Those waffles looked way too naked. Lifting his bowl up, Gamzee began to move it toward Eridan's plate, intending on dumping the stuff over his boring, plain waffles.]

CAMEO

[midgarhorizon]

[Yeah, that there... Yeah.... Reno had been entering the cafeteria at about that time, but he took the scene in and oh so casually turned around and walked back up the staircase.

He may have been making gasping snorts on the way up.

...

Yeah, that was helpless laughter drifting down from the second floor.]

ZEN I FUCKING LOVE YOU

[hystericull]

[...Well, that certainly didn't just win Gamzee any points in the groomsman department.]

<3

[chronomancer]

[Fuck you, Reno, you have no idea how many hours of therapy Eridan will need to recover from that horror.]

to both

[midgarhorizon]

[Reno has no fucks to give. NONE.

Also. Still laughing.]