towerofanimus | [Open Log]

Characters: AU Eridan, OU Vriska, and Open!!
Setting: Somewhere in the tower, feel free to choose. He's travelling down the stairs for lunch.
Format: Either is fine.
Summary: Eridan is out and about. Meet him! Also Vriska is going to try to feed him to spidermom.
Warnings: Nothing yet. Eridan's foul mouth is certain to be found here.

[Hoarding food can only take you so far. Eridan's still not really talking much to his roommate, mostly because he's a bit resentful that Taiki took a flying leap off the tower with Eridan on his back. Stupid weird paranoid crying kid who claimed to fly but didn't even have wings and stupid Eridan for believing him and stupid tower for existing. He misses Feferi so much his wind tube hurts.

So anyway, he can't ask Taiki to bring him food anymore, so that means he has to go down to the cafeteria. But. He's not scared. Eridan Ampora doesn't get scared. He just doesn't want to have to deal with all this weird glubbing shit.

He is climbing down the stairs, head held high and a very 'come at me bro' look on his face. If anyone wants to give him shit for existing or something, he is so ready]

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"Yeah, me too," Eridan said, then winced faintly. It seemed obvious that Psiioniic was as uncomfortable with him as he was, and both of them were pretty much searching for a way out of the conversation. He hesitated, then added haughtily, "But if you don't wwant to join me, I wwon't be offended."

It was a lot easier to deal with that haughty attitude when Ψiioniic could see that it was covering a low-blood's natural insecurity and nervousness. Despite himself, it made Ψiioniic smile faintly. "Well, I wouldn't want to intrude," he said, tilting his head. "But if the high-bloodth give you any trouble... either version of them... I'm usually pretty eathy to find, and I like company."

Even if there weren't any of the high-bloods from this Eridan's timeline here, Ψiioniic could easily imagine what people like the Condesce and Dualscar would think of a sea dweller who acted like a low-blood. Eridan might be in for MORE torment from them than he would be from the high-bloods he was used to.

To be honest, Eridan wasn't sure if he wanted to meet the Condesce or Dualscar. He knew that his ratty clothing and life story would probably meet with nothing but contempt from them, but there was a secret, hopeful part that wondered if they might take some pity on him, even be angered on his behalf.

The goldblood's reaction, on the other hand, had him stymied. He had been trying to give him an out, but he hadn't taken it. In fact, this sounded like something of an invitation, but giving him an out.

Which was a bit irritating. "Wwell, it's no intrusion," he said firmly. "Though I definitely don't need your help wwith any highbloods, a either type. Anywway, come on." As he turned around, he felt nervous all over again. What in hell were they going to talk about?

Now Ψiioniic wasn't sure if Eridan actually wanted him there or not - but it would be far too awkward for them to just silently walk to the same place and then deliberately pick different places to sit, he supposed. He fell in behind the younger troll, eyes firmly on the floor, wondering what he should do.

"Jutht because you don't need help doesn't mean it might not be nice to know it's available," he finally offered. That was a lesson he'd had to learn, working with Signless and the others. Accepting help didn't always mean that you were admitting weakness - or even that you were implying you couldn't do it without help. It was just... easier to have it. "What'th wrong with taking advantage of an offered ally? Just saves your thtrength for other battles."

Eridan opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning deeply. The truth was, he'd never had a proper ally. Feferi was someone whom he protected, and Sollux might offer some protection, but it was a protection that came with prices and conditions. They were kismeses, so it had to be that way.

"I'vve nevver needed help before," he lied. He'd never had help, so he'd always had to deal with things by himself. "I'm pretty fuckin' self-reliant, an I don't see any reason to change that noww. If I rely on you to get me out a situations, then wwhat happens wwhen you're not around or decide you don't wwant to help?"

It wasn't hard for Ψiioniic to translate that statement into it's real meaning. Especially as he hadn't really expected anything else. Trolls were programmed by society not to ever admit to weakness or even anything that could be construed as a weakness, and not to ever rely on anybody but themselves. They were segregated and alone, always fighting against one another, with the rare exceptions permitted among moirails and matesprits.

That was why so many people had had so much difficulty understanding the relationship between the Signless and his three closest companions. Disciple was his matesprit, or close enough that to an outsider it would make no difference - but Ψiioniic and the Dolorosa had been just as close to him, just as reliant upon and committed to him, without having any sort of formal title beyond 'friend'.

"Don't rely on me, then," he said, shrugging. "But you wouldn't refuse to use a weapon in a fight jutht because in your next fight it might not be available, right? That would be thilly."

Okay, Eridan had thought that what he said would be accepted and they could get off this weird helping thing. It wasn't that he wouldn't ask if he really did find himself in a situation where he needed the help. He just didn't want to admit that he might need the help.

But Psiioniic was insisting now, and that was a bit awkward. Eridan looked around at him, scowling a little. "I'vve got wweapons that don't talk back. And, and anywway, I'm not vviolent or anythin'. If someone attacks me, I'll defend myself, because you can't expect me to just roll ovver and die, but I'm not fuckin' go out go seeking trouble. Wwhich means there's no opportunity to evven ask for help."

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