Eridan Ampora ♒ chronicAugustus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chronomancer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-05-21 11:30 pm
chronomancer) wrote in towerofanimus2013-05-21 11:30 pm
Entry tags:
[Open] If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman...?
Characters: Eridan and YOU!
Setting: Room 1-10, showers, cafeteria, anywhere you want.
Format: Starting with Action, I'll match you.
Summary: Eridan finds himself back in the Tower after an extended absence. This wouldn't be so bad if he weren't currently very much shithive maggots and trying desperately to keep a lid on it. Please excuse the jumpy, nervous wreck, he swears he's trying not to murder anyone.
Warnings: Eridan's erratic behavior, lots of F-clusterbombs and potential murder if startled too hard.
Room 1-10
[The elusive fourth inhabitant of the room is finally back! You can tell because there's a person-shaped lump under the covers of his bed and a quiet chant of "oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck" echoing from the depths. Eridan is back, and this would be amazing if it weren't for the fact he's going through a slow-mo murderous meltdown.
Goddammit, Tower, he was almost done murdering himself!
Approach with caution. Or don't! Hilarity will ensue, since he doesn't have a weapon at hand. Yet.]
Bathroom.
[He looks disgusting. He kind of feels disgusting, too. After escaping his room with most of his sanity intact, Eridan sneaked about to get some necessary supplies and went about making himself vaguely presentable. That's why he's freshly showered - so freshly showered, his clothes are sticking to him since he's pretty dampstill - and trying his best to trim his hair into an acceptable length again. Also trying to salvage his claws with a file. They're kind of brittle and splintered, but at least they're not caked in jade blood anymore. That's always a plus.
Ignore the gun and the shovel within arms reach, someone is extremely jumpy right now.]
Cafeteria.
[Having made sure he doesn't look like a hobo - just mostly half starved and twitchy like a chihuahua after a close experience with NY traffic - Eridan gives in to the fact his insides are halfway through digesting themselves and inches his way into the cafeteria. He's trying really hard to go unnoticed, head tucked between his shoulders and eyes avoiding most people. Definitely not the most inviting of postures, but he can't help it. He's seated in a corner, all by himself, and spending as much time eating as he's looking nervously around the room. Without the sunglasses you can really see how jittery the eye movement really is.
Again, please ignore the shovel and the gun within easy reach, it's not like he's gonna shoot anyone or anything.
Hahaha.
...oh god.]
Anywhere.
[After a good meal, Eridan considers sneaking back to his room and hiding away until the circus in his head is over. On the other hand, he should really check out if there have been any changes in the tower - of course they've been, there always are - and maybe he'll be lucky enough to not run into anyone while he makes his way up the stairs.
That's totally a thing that'd happen, right?
...right?
Oh god, he's gonna get killed. Or worse.]
Setting: Room 1-10, showers, cafeteria, anywhere you want.
Format: Starting with Action, I'll match you.
Summary: Eridan finds himself back in the Tower after an extended absence. This wouldn't be so bad if he weren't currently very much shithive maggots and trying desperately to keep a lid on it. Please excuse the jumpy, nervous wreck, he swears he's trying not to murder anyone.
Warnings: Eridan's erratic behavior, lots of F-clusterbombs and potential murder if startled too hard.
Room 1-10
[The elusive fourth inhabitant of the room is finally back! You can tell because there's a person-shaped lump under the covers of his bed and a quiet chant of "oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck" echoing from the depths. Eridan is back, and this would be amazing if it weren't for the fact he's going through a slow-mo murderous meltdown.
Goddammit, Tower, he was almost done murdering himself!
Approach with caution. Or don't! Hilarity will ensue, since he doesn't have a weapon at hand. Yet.]
Bathroom.
[He looks disgusting. He kind of feels disgusting, too. After escaping his room with most of his sanity intact, Eridan sneaked about to get some necessary supplies and went about making himself vaguely presentable. That's why he's freshly showered - so freshly showered, his clothes are sticking to him since he's pretty dampstill - and trying his best to trim his hair into an acceptable length again. Also trying to salvage his claws with a file. They're kind of brittle and splintered, but at least they're not caked in jade blood anymore. That's always a plus.
Ignore the gun and the shovel within arms reach, someone is extremely jumpy right now.]
Cafeteria.
[Having made sure he doesn't look like a hobo - just mostly half starved and twitchy like a chihuahua after a close experience with NY traffic - Eridan gives in to the fact his insides are halfway through digesting themselves and inches his way into the cafeteria. He's trying really hard to go unnoticed, head tucked between his shoulders and eyes avoiding most people. Definitely not the most inviting of postures, but he can't help it. He's seated in a corner, all by himself, and spending as much time eating as he's looking nervously around the room. Without the sunglasses you can really see how jittery the eye movement really is.
Again, please ignore the shovel and the gun within easy reach, it's not like he's gonna shoot anyone or anything.
Hahaha.
...oh god.]
Anywhere.
[After a good meal, Eridan considers sneaking back to his room and hiding away until the circus in his head is over. On the other hand, he should really check out if there have been any changes in the tower - of course they've been, there always are - and maybe he'll be lucky enough to not run into anyone while he makes his way up the stairs.
That's totally a thing that'd happen, right?
...right?
Oh god, he's gonna get killed. Or worse.]
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