towerofanimus | 011 ♐ it's easy living in the house of your dreams ♐ ᴏᴘᴇɴ

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011 ♐ it's easy living in the house of your dreams ♐ ᴏᴘᴇɴ

Characters: Equius Zahhak (AU) and YOU
Setting: Floor 70, the machine.
Format: Starting in action, but I'll do whatever.
Summary: Equius gets his geek on in the worst conceivable way.
Warnings: Possible crushing, burning, or acid corrosion. YAY SCIENCE!

[...Wow.]

[There was no telling how big this floor was. The walls and ceiling were nowhere in sight, because they were completely covered by a massive breathing machine. There was a faint tinge of rust in the air here, and the outer reaches were further obscured by smoke of various colours. Metal parts clunked and ground against one another, making extremely unattractive noises as they did so. A truly staggering amount of the mechanisms here were burned or dented (or maybe they were supposed to be that way, since they were unfamiliar), but they all seemed to be working together towards... something that wasn't immediately clear. There had to be a million different platforms all around the place, but most of them were conveyor belts, carrying scraps of some kind of metal into a huge boiling vat of liquid that sizzled when something dropped in.]

[It was beautiful.]

[Not much to see here, Tower; just a troll, standing next to the staircase, gawking in amazement at the monstrosity in front of him. Judging from the oil streaks that have long since dried on this particular pair of pants, he could feel perfectly at home here... if he got an opportunity to look around. Right now, it's all unfamiliar. And way too big. All Equius can do for quite a long time is stand there and gawk. What could this thing be for?]

[He seems to want to find out, as shortly afterward he's examining the closer and less dangerous metallic innards. And then the slightly further metallic innards. And eventually he's crawling and jumping all over the place, still in view of the staircase, but observing mechanisms that could crush a hand and balancing on things that really ought not to be balanced on, all in the interest of getting just a little closer to that peculiar piece of machinery. It's just so interesting. He seems to be doing pretty well now; one of Equius' few talents is coordination and nimble movement. But who knows how long that'll last if someone startles him...]

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I understand. [He does. One would think that a desert is too simple for the Tower to fuck up, but as usual, they would be hilariously wrong.]

...So, uh... [Equius backs up a bit, as if he's only just now realized that he's been hovering dangerously close to Eridan this entire time. There could be a fire or something. Yeah. Uh.] ...I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. [This is too awkward. He doesn't want to deal with being awkward! He just wants to go back to feeling normal again! Is that so hard? ...Yes, apparently, because his way of going back to this state is by apologizing.]

[Eridan looks up at Equius - if he were still wearing sunglasses, he'd be looking at him over the rim, and the gesture is so ingrained that he still does it, even without actual shades in the way - and boy sure is nice he doesn't have to look up four fucking feet, huh? He offered a very small, very shy smile.]

You don't really have anything to apologize for, honest.

I... [He's really happy that the four feet of difference isn't there anymore. It's kind of terrifying that one day it will, and not just for a week, but besides that -- he doesn't even want to think about what the four feet represents in terms of his mental development.] I don't know what was wrong with me. Or. Will be wrong with me.

[That he will one day be pretty terrifying in all senses of the word?

Eridan shrugs awkwardly.]

...the Tower happens, right?

[It sounds kind of... weak, coming from him. He scratches his elbow a little harder, before he drops his gaze to the floor.]

I mean. Just. Just 'cause they were fucking with us... it's not like we were ourselves, right?

[He wants to take responsibility because he was an absolute shithead that week and he's been feeling pretty miserable about it. On the other hand, he doesn't want to hold it against Equius. Because he's not mad, honest. Weirdly, as far as he's concerned, Equius didn't really do anything wrong. ~~It was all Eridan's fault.~~]

I guess, but... [How to put this?] Even if they made all of those personality traits up... they were still accurate. Really accurate. [No point hiding that now; he was certainly capable of that kind of wrath, and so was Eridan.] We could reasonably be like that, sweeps from now... [Years was too small a measurement.]

...but we don't have to be.

[Oh well, there go the claws sinking in as he holds his own elbow in a vice. He sounds a little small, not quite confident in his own words.]

Just... just 'cause they said we will doesn't mean we have to. Just knowing how it ends makes the ending change.

[...there's a small pause.]

And, I don't know. Maybe we don't have to lose the good along with the bad.

[For his efforts, Eridan earns himself a long look from his matosupurito while he tries to digest what ha just been said. Equius had never been one to consider things in a mindset like that -- i.e., one that wasn't preprogrammed to go down the most painful and horrible mental route. And neither was Eridan, really, for the most part, so it was certainly a bit out of left field (attested to by how unsure he sounded about it, a tone he only assumed for explaining things that were actually true).]

...Maybe.

[He doesn't know what else to say, but that's mostly because he's now taken his gaze off of the floor or wherever else it's been lurking, and is now focused intently on Eridan. This is important because, yeah, as he stands there, he allows himself to get punched in the gut with a considerable helping of wafflesprit feels. They showed on his face. They were related to a sudden urge, rapidly growing in his chest, to hug and mama the shit out of this poor child. Because that's what you do for people you love, right? Right.]

[Not trusting the great massive feels tumor, however, Equius simply moved a bit closer again, looking down a bit in the same way that he might in anticipation of hugging a particularly short little person ~~or just a normal sized person who was short to him~~.]

[This particular normal-sized person is currently trying very hard to make himself shorter and smaller. Eridan keeps his eyes on the floor, noting the way Equius moves, but not sure what to do about it. His fingers twitch, but those of his free hand and those still clutching onto an elbow and digging claws in. He hates the feeling that there should be something else he can say, to make things better. But there really isn't, he thinks, because he's just that dumb.]

...I'd like to try, at least.

[Eridan shrugged.]

You know. To not fuck things up.

You should try. [Oh, well thanks for that vital information, Equius.] ...I mean... I think you can. [He looks like he's about to say something else, but at that moment notices The Claws, and immediately one of his hands is resting on Eridan's arm. Whatever he was going to say is now sidetracked, because even Equius has enough simple comprehension skills to know that Eridan does that when he's all wound up.] ...Shh. It's alright.

[Eridan tenses a little then ducks his head harder as Equius holds his arm. It takes a moment for him to relax his hold. He let out a long sigh.]

...I'm okay.

[Not by a long stretch.]

A-anyway, I just. Came to tell you that. And see if you were alright.

[And hadn't vanished while he was dead or something.]

[Yeah, no he's not. Equius can see this plain as day. His other hand goes onto Eridan's other arm, considerably gentler than the first.]

Thanks.

That was nice of you.

[Eridan shrugs, but not hard enough to dislodge Equius' hands from his arms. He looks a little uncomfortable though.]

...It's okay. I mean, it's just... I'm a worrywart, that's all.

...It's not as if I'm not.

[Hooray, self-deprecating "humor". But he removes his arms anyway.]

[The joke gets him a smile, even though Eridan misses those arms immediately. He really, really wants a hug, right now, but he's not sure if it's even okay to ask for one.]

I guess, yeah.

[So there he stands, veritable mountain of awkward that he is. Just. Sort of staring up at Equius with a mix of yearning and hesitation.]

...Is something wrong?

[He asks for the second time. Come on, Eridan, stop looking uncomfortable when he wants to hug you.]

...it's stupid.

[He squirms a little.]

What is it?

[Entering mama mode.]

I just.

[He shrugs.]

I always panic, when I wake up after dying.

[That he's died enough times to have a habit about it says it all, really.]

It's stupid and irrational, and you were busy and I'm sorry I interrupted you.

It's nothing I can't pick up later.

[He doesn't bother to ask if Eridan's okay now, because the answer will be no.]

There's no need to put the Tower's stupid floors over you. They'll always be here later.

...oh.

[Well then. Excuse him while his ears burn a little. He's embarrassed now.]

It's okay. I just. Have this thing. It's pretty dumb. Like I'm going to wake up and you or Jade'll be gone. Haha.

[This is the weakest laughter in the history of ever.]

Pretty silly, huh.

[It's really not.]

No. Not silly at all. [Look at where you live, Eridan. People disappear all the time!] But...

[Uh. What can he... say.]

[Not that it won't happen. Because he knows it might. It might.]

[There's really not much to say. So...]

...I'm sorry.

That you feel that way.

[... EQUIUS.]

Oh, Equius, please don't be.

[Eridan shrugs and raises his hands, almost placating. Hey, at least you got him to stop hugging himself and clawing holes into his elbow.]

It's not your fault.

[Oh fuck you, Eridan Ampora, you raised your hands up. You were asking for it.]

[Hugging is go.]

[Oh. Well then. Eridan makes a small sound in the back of his throat, resisting for a moment before he leaned into the hug and pretty much just melted into a puddle of clingy troll.]

[And then the two of them melted on top of each other and it was kind of gross but whatever.]

I really, really don't want you to be scared. Of anything. Of losing anyone. [Being scared is a horrible thing to be, and it's his job.] I don't, and I'm sorry... that's what I meant before, when I said I'm sorry. I can't promise I'll never leave, because it's out of my control. And I'm sorry about that. But as long as I am here...

[What is finishing sentences, and how does he do it?]

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chronomancer - 2013-02-16 04:20 (UTC) - Expand

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