Eridan Ampora (
wwaterboy) wrote in
towerofanimus2011-12-26 06:18 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Characters: AU Eridan Ampora, The Grand Highblood Subjugglator, and Willow Rosenberg
Setting: The floor with the pool
Format: Whatever, I'll follow what you guys want to do
Summary: Eridan will probably sass the GHB, and Willow will hopefully rescue him.
Warnings: Violence and swearing
Eridan boosted himself up out of the pool and reached for the towel he'd brought this time. He was wearing swimming trunks, a simple white speedo, because the bigger trunks they'd offered him caused too much drag.
He'd never been that into swimming back home, with the water so polluted, but this water was clean and clear, if a tiny bit chlorinated. It was just enough to make his gills tingle, but he always washed them out thoroughly in the ablution trap later so there wouldn't be any scarring.
He had hoped to meet Willow again and take her swimming, but she hadn't arrived yet. That was disappointing, and he hoped she'd just lost track of time or something, and nothing bad had happened to her. He'd maybe check the library on his way back to his respite block. That would be like the girl he was becoming to hope would be his matesprit one day.
Content and humming a fisher tune, he rubbed at his skin to buff away the worst of the water so he could put his clothes back on and make his way back to his room.
Setting: The floor with the pool
Format: Whatever, I'll follow what you guys want to do
Summary: Eridan will probably sass the GHB, and Willow will hopefully rescue him.
Warnings: Violence and swearing
Eridan boosted himself up out of the pool and reached for the towel he'd brought this time. He was wearing swimming trunks, a simple white speedo, because the bigger trunks they'd offered him caused too much drag.
He'd never been that into swimming back home, with the water so polluted, but this water was clean and clear, if a tiny bit chlorinated. It was just enough to make his gills tingle, but he always washed them out thoroughly in the ablution trap later so there wouldn't be any scarring.
He had hoped to meet Willow again and take her swimming, but she hadn't arrived yet. That was disappointing, and he hoped she'd just lost track of time or something, and nothing bad had happened to her. He'd maybe check the library on his way back to his respite block. That would be like the girl he was becoming to hope would be his matesprit one day.
Content and humming a fisher tune, he rubbed at his skin to buff away the worst of the water so he could put his clothes back on and make his way back to his room.

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"ME? I don't remember attacking you, motherfucker! What I all remember is bringing down my motherfucking fist into a fucking wall, and then you all up and shit your shitty swimming briefs over it!"
Then took another step, followed by a few more, rapidly turning into a full sprint. No way he was going to leave Eridan alone after all this. The more logical side of his mind, where ever the hell it was, only wanted to chase him for more information regarding the Summoner... but the other, more chaotic side, wanted to just chase him for fun.
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Eridan could be a coward at times. He didn't think of it as being cowardly so much as not wanting to die, especially stupidly.
But Eridan was a veteran of too many street battles he couldn't avoid, and he knew when he was cornered. And when he was cornered, he was a whirlwind of desperation with pointy ends.
He planted his feet and lowered his head, and when the Highblood came closer, he launched himself forward, straight towards his scratched stomach, knife first.
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Despite the lovely fight this sea dweller put up, he had a feeling it wouldn't be very gratifying in the end, much like the two other humans he had killed off in the tower. They were just there, and they were walking around with a 'Cull Me' sign, so he had obliged. This one wasn't much different, except he put up quite the fight.
But he quite liked the bright violet of sea-dweller blood. It would be at least worth all this effort to see some more of it.
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She couldn't help it: immediately she thought of Tara. It was blood on her shirt again, a shattered window, black eyes demanding that she be brought back and it not happening. It was unfair, so unfair, that no matter how many months it'd been, the flashback was instantaneous, and she was gasping.
Then it was like her mind clicked over. No. No, never, never was she watching this happen again. This wasn't Tara and Eridan wasn't on that level in terms of importance to her, was still a long ways off, but the association was there and any association was too much, pricked her into rage instantly. Her bag slid off her shoulder and to the ground with a dull thump.
She took a step forward and flung her hand up simultaneously, shouting Latin. "Iacere!" The highblood went flying backwards into the pool, the splash sudden and reverberating in the high ceiling.
This was bad. This was so, so bad. She felt out of control already, rushing forward almost before the spell had completed to come up to Eridan's side.
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Claws had ripped into Eridan's back, but he barely felt it, diving for his knife and coming up with it, his eyes wild and murderous as he looked for the next threat. He couldn't understand where the Highblood had just gone, though the spreading ripples and splashing where he'd landed in the pool gave him a clue.
Finally he saw Willow, and his eyes widened, a bit of sanity coming back into them. He swayed, but somehow stayed on his feet.
"Wwilloww? Wwhere did you come from?"
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Then after the wave of panic subsided, he growled lowly and looked around the room for the source of the interruption. He had heard a woman's voice yell something... and oh, there she was, running towards Eridan. He didn't charge right away, trying to regain his footing on the slippery floor and pressing a hand against the wound. Not to mention that this tiny woman had just blasted him away. That was definitely something to be wary about.
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Willow sees the highblood getting out of the water in her peripheral vision, and her gaze flicks over to him briefly. Her entire expression changes: cold and closed off, voice hard and immobile. "Why is this happening?"
She's trying to contain her reaction, resist the boiling urge to grab onto black magic with both hands and not let go until this threat is dispatched. It's innate, reflexive. She wants power, needs it, to deal with this, but she's spent so long trying to train herself out of those reflexes. Internally Willow is waffling from worried and in shock, to the icy anger of uncompromising vengeance. It's a stark contrast and it's making her thoughts whirl incoherently, her previous taste of magic enough to influence her.
Right now, she's teetering on the mental precipice, still reeling. It terrifies her bone deep how quickly this was happening to her, and she tries to calm herself down even as she's reacting. No matter what's going on here, she can't afford to lose herself.
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He lurched forward, fangs bared, and staring directly at Willow. "Motherfucking aliens all getting in the way of my business get THE SAME MOTHERFUCKING TREATMENT." Of course he knew she had strange powers, but he was viciously stubborn, and admitting defeat wasn't exactly a thing he was very good at until it got real bad.
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She ignores the tugs on her sleeve and in fact faces the highblood directly, demeanor chilling further. "Go ahead," she dares him, glaring openly and making sure that she's overtly between her opponent and the person she's protecting. "I've been practicing my brick impression. Eridan, you better give us some room."
It's easy, so easy, to reach for that inner roiling of energy, and when she lifts her hand up this time, black electricity starts to crackle between her fingers.
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He was her apprentice, after all. And she seemed to be determined to finish this battle, rather than running away.
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He was still without a real weapon which made him uneasy, especially against a super-powered alien, but he didn't hesitate as he charged, head tilted down slightly-- only to unleash a flash step, a move he used rarely where he moves so quickly from one point to another that he seems to disappear, and reappeared in front of her. His hair billowed about them and he raised an arm to strike.
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She doesn't have time to think about this, and the highblood is suddenly in front of her. The force of the strike on her jaw wrenched something; she went crashing back to the floor with a cry of pain, blood blooming on her skin, frame arched and immobile on the white pool-side tile. The electricity in her hand was gone.
But the second her back hit the ground, Willow realized: she didn't need to choose between in control and weak, and out of control and powerful. It was a hard line to walk, but there was power right here.
As she lay stiffly on the ground, wondering in a split second if her jaw was broken, she started to gather up the energy of the planet she was on and suck it into her, an invisible process from the outside. To them, it appeared she'd gotten hit, and went down.
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He was also loyal.
When Willow went down with a cry and a spurt of candy red blood, Eridan's fins snapped back and he growled. In an instant he was up on his feet again, and charging the Highblood, knife out and slashing. There was one deep wound in the Highblood's belly, and he intended to add a few more before the Highblood took him out.
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He snarled in response, using his arms as a shield, though they became pretty badly slashed all over. The floor stained purple as the fresh gashes on his arm bled profusely, making it hard to keep his footing on the slippery floor. He swung his fists wildly in hopes of knocking this punk out.
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Breaking up the middle of a heated fight, though, wasn't something to be accomplished easily with everything moving so fast now. "Want to try that again?" she taunts, trying to distract them enough to provide her with an opening.
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He went down hard, jarring his spine. The fall knocked the knife out of his hand, finally, the hilt slippery with the Highblood's indigo blood.
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He spares a quick glance at Eridan, who had slipped and fell, and when only he was sure that the knife was out of his hand did he turn his attention back to Willow.
"Sure, bitch," he spat, ignoring the stinging of his arms. "We can do this all motherfucking day if we all got to."
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There was no guilt now. Willow spared Eridan on the floor a glance, and felt her resolve firm at seeing him so clearly injured. "I need to borrow your knife for a second," she says to him in a tone only slightly gentler than her previous one. She couldn't let go of her momentum now. With a flick of her fingers, the abandoned knife rose off the floor and into her hand, where it suddenly turned into something a lot larger: the blade ten inches, the indigo blood on the handle mixing with the red on her hand and sleeve. She held onto it easily, grip loose, because she didn't intend to fight with it herself. She intended to throw it.
Yay!
Eyes wide, he watched from his prone position.
partayy
Honestly, he hadn't come down here expecting a fight, although he should've always kept on his toes. But even if he did, he had no weapons available to him in that trunk filled with useless garbage.
With a deafening growl, he kept his stance, waiting for her to make her move first. Heading straight into a fight he wasn't sure of wasn't really smart, though he had a strange inkling that being on the defensive wasn't going to be any different.
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She certainly isn't showing any vulnerability right now. That was over with, she'd worked through her hesitations over using black magic; in the moment, she can't think any further. She runs a finger along the flat side of the blade, and the metal heats, an orange-red flare shimmering down the length.
It rises out of her hand into the air once more, tip pointing towards the highblood. Willow's expression doesn't flicker as it darts forward.
OOC: Skip me, I guess. This is Eridan's face
poor baby
Unfortunately for him, he can't mull over these questions. Pushing all thoughts that were not critical to his survival aside, he barely made it out of the way. The white-hot heat radiating off the blade alone singed his hair, and the stink filled his nostrils. It was an unpredictable weapon, being wielded by magic, and there was only so much he could do to try and predict its next move.
we can probably keep skipping Cnd for a little bit and you can hop in as needed for now? :|a
It swivels in place like a compass, turning to point at the highblood unerringly. Willow doesn't have enough skill in physical fighting, even by this method, to have any subtlety: it flies forward again for another pass.
excellent
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AHH just for the hell of it <3