capeandcowllogs | if I was in world war two they'd call me spitfire.

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if I was in world war two they'd call me spitfire.

WHO: Eridan Ampora and Gamzee Makara.
WHERE: In some farmer's field somewhere on the edge of the city.
WHEN: 3/20
WARNINGS: FAITO.
SUMMARY: Gamzee totally sassed Eridan up over the network. They are now official In The Shit and about to try and mangle each other.
FORMAT: Starting with para, but I'm good with whatever!

Having an excuse to try and blow a hole or six in someone was one of the higher moments of his stay in the City so far, particularly someone as irritating as Gamzee had turned out to be when he wasn't high out of his mind off sopor slime. Really, he'd have almost appreciated the vicious classism the juggalo was currently displaying, if he hadn't been displaying it at Eridan.

Well he'd done it anyway and now he was going to have to drown in his high and mighty indigo blood. Oh well.

Eridan was at the specified place three minutes early, in the biggest field the farm had to offer, wand in hand and arms crossed. He'd deigned to leave his cape and scarf at home, not totally sure whether he'd be able to get indigo blood out of either and not wanting to waste them on Gamzee if he couldn't. And naturally, not being totally sure of how the clown was coming armed, he was keeping his eyes open for any long distance weapons or sneak attacks. After all, he'd never fought a subjugglator before.

At least it promised to be interesting.

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Eridan's next blast didn't completely miss, but Gamzee did dodge again and now he had a nasty bleeding wound on his leg to match his side. Like with the first wound though he really didn't seem to care that much and it only seemed to slow him down by a split-second, if even that.

Now that Gamzee was within range he was grinning his face off and he felt free to make all sorts of irritating honking sounds. First thing he was going to do, if he could, was knock Eridan to the ground and then smash his wand hand. Not that the knocking down part would be any less pleasant than smashing the hand since that would still involve being hit pretty hard with a club and most of Gamzee's weight. Well, and he was mostly aiming for Eridan's face again.

Well fuck. Not according to keikaku.

Eridan caught most of the club's blow with his forearm; it didn't keep him from getting knocked down, considering Gamzee was probably a good deal stronger and heavier than he was now (fuck this body), but it did keep his face from becoming concave. He might've fucked up his wand wrist, but whatever, deal with that later. He groped at the dirt with his free hand, searching...

"Hey subjugglator-"

There.

"-honk honk, you landlubbin' piece of shit."

What came next was Eridan swinging the club that cracked him the face not too long ago right at Gamzee's, looking to return the favor. Or at least shut up that godawful honking of his.

The honking stopped for a few seconds, that club landed pretty well and it might even Gamzee's nose. When the honking came back though it actually sounded lower and possibly threatening. He was pretty pissed about the comment after all, so the change in his voice probably wasn't that surprising.

Gamzee was going to do two things at this point. The first thing he was going to try to do was to grab Eridan's arm, twist it, and hopefully snap it. He did it with Nepeta's arm so he could probably do it to Eridan while he was human. While he was doing this he was lifting his own clubbing arm pretty high, he was going to swing that arm with full force down on Eridan's defending arm. He was aiming to smash any part of that arm he fucking could.

It did leave that swinging side of his body open for attack too though, but he probably wouldn't feel anything in time to stop him unless it forcefully moved him.

Eridan didn't realize Gamzee had gotten a hold of his arm until he heard the snap. Even then, he didn't look to see how bad the break was nor did he particularly care; he'd had things broken before in his campaigns, particularly when Vriska was involved, and though it'd probably hurt like a motherfucker (to take a tip from Gamzee) later, right now he was too preoccupied with not getting his face smashed in by a psychotic clown to really feel it.

So when Gamzee raised his club, Eridan seized the opportunity to aim his wand again, this time at Gamzee's clubbing hand. With luck, he'd either render that hand useless or just blow the club to smithereens, though his aim wasn't exactly precise right now. And at the same time, he was jamming his foot into whatever part of the clown he could, either to shove him off or just to rack him.

No such thing as fighting dirty when you're fighting a psychotic juggalo.

Way to go Eridan, there's now club shrapnel flying all over the place.

"Motherfuckin low blooded motherfuckin sea dweller," the kicking was not fun and Gamzee sure didn't appreciate anyone kicking anywhere near where Kan had been kicking, "_{see how you all like this.}"

If Gamzee had learned anything from the crotch rocket over the cliff it was that hits to the crotch were pretty effective, and after he snapped Eridan's arm he did have a free one to use to try and punch Eridan in the groin. His other hand was trying to get that wand out of this fight, or at least snag it so he could use it. Really, he'd just be happy to get that thing away from being pointed at him again.

Snarling, bringing the kicking leg up to try and keep Gamzee from punching him in the crotch (or at least make it a lot harder), Eridan did his best to jam the other one in the nasty wound to Gamzee's side and shove him off, or maybe just make him give a half second's pause.

"I'm not about to let filth-blooded pond scum forget its fuckin' place," Eridan spat, and though there was no note of desperation in his voice, he was starting to feel it. The wand, at least, had to stay out of Gamzee's hands. He fought to keep a hold of it, using the force Gamzee was using to pull it away to point it in the general direction of the clown, aiming to blow the crown of his head off. Or maybe a chunk out of his shoulder. Or even destroy one of his horns, he'd even settle for that.

And then Gamzee actually landed the punch, and regardless of whether it'd hit anything or not, the wand fired.

Gamzee just looked pissed with the wand going off. The fact that it had cut a bit into his shoulder, like all the other wounds, didn't even seem to register with him.

"_{I know my place} and it's motherfucking above you motherfucker," he snarled, still trying to get the wand away from Eridan. This time though he was going to use his other hand to try and break one of Eridan's legs. Those were getting fucking annoying and he needed every advantage he could get to get that fucking wand out of this fight.

If he got hold of that thing he knew there was a good chance this was all over.

Although Felicia had seen plenty of crazy fights in her lifetime (and her stay here), being called in to break up two superpowered children before they killed each other was a new challenge she wasn't particularly sure she was excited about. When did she become a babysitter?

She was at the field when Eridan's wand went off, and eyebrows raised behind her dark domino mask. She was a good fighter, but this wasn't something she wanted to get herself immersed in. After she got their attention first, of course. She slunk through the field quietly, stopping beside a tractor. She turned it on, setting it on course to plow into them or at least distract them long enough for her to get in there and administer a few kicks to one or both of their heads.

For once she was grateful for her power; causing bad luck was always a plus when she needed the good luck on her side. Assuming it would work.

Not a whole lot of things would've been able to get Eridan's attention right then, preoccupied trying to both keep out of Gamzee's grasp and keep the wand out of his hands, but a tractor heading straight for them was one of them. Instead of trying to move out of the tractor's path to avoid getting crushed, as most people would probably do, Eridan instead took the opportunity to raggedly aim another wand blast at whatever part of (a hopefully distracted) Gamzee he could.

It might not have been the greatest idea to challenge a murderous troll in a human body, but he'd be damned if this was going to end without at least one more parting shot. Besides, his legs were fine and he had one good arm; he could probably roll out of the way or something.

Gamzee noticed the tractor and was just about to get up and run away from it, but then Eridan had to get his attention back by firing on him again. He even managed to hit the same fucking spot as last time. There was no way Gamzee was letting Eridan get away with that.

Since he was now in a better position for it, on account of him about to get up a few seconds before, he lifted up his foot and aimed to slam it down hard right beneath Eridan's sternum. It would fucking hurt if he got that last kick then. After he did that though his only plan was to start running out of here. The last thing he needed was to potentially fight someone else while he was still fighting Eridan who still had his fucking wand.

Christ, why weren't they getting out of the way? Time for plan B. Felicia waited a few more minutes, watching them carefully, trying to will her powers to work better, quicker... something so she could be sure they were working.

She ran forward, pressing her palms on the tractor so that she could leap over it. The momentum of the moving machine propelled her forward, and she swung her leg out, intending to kick that clown's foot away. If that didn't work she'd figure something else out. She was used to thinking on her feet.

That kick did indeed fucking hurt, and Eridan had every intention of grabbing Gamzee's ankle and trying to jerk him off his feet, maybe drag him underneath the tractor's wheels and watch the indigo blood pour out of his smarmy subjugglating mouth. That was, if Felicia hadn't shown and kicked at Gamzee's foot, managing to kick Eridan's hand away in the process.

Swearing, he instead joined the effort in shoving Gamzee as far away from him as possible, and then getting the hell out of the tractor's way once he was loose.

Felicia's kick combined with Eridan's efforts to shove Gamzee away were actually pretty effective. The troll rolled away from the two of them and the tractor, rolling over one of his horns in the process.

Getting up on his feet he grabbed the horn and accidentally put it in his sylladex, the last fucking place he wanted it. Just one more thing to make him pissed about tonight, but at least he could keep his horn for next time. He looked over to make sure that Eridan wasn't pointing his fucking wand at him (or to at least get an idea of how he should be dodging it) and then he just started running off. He knew he couldn't take two people on right now.

Still couldn't leave without a farewell threat though "Motherfuckin filthy coward _{can't all even fight up at by your ownself} I'll motherfuckin finish you when you're motherfuckin alone low blood!"

When she saw the other boy whose name she didn't know (but boy, he looked like a freakshow; what was up with that face?) begin to run, Felicia slunk over to Eridan quickly.

"What the hell was all that, you little idiot?" She glanced up again, watching the other kid to make sure he didn't double back. "Who is that? Do you want to get yourself killed?"

"I'll slit your fuckin' throat and pour that indigo swill ower my next meal you bottomfeedin' piece of sh-"

He cut off his threat to glare at Felicia, then after Gamzee again, and then settled for using his sleeve to wipe his face. He also chose to ignore all those questions completely.

"Ed sent you, didn't he?"

She wrinkled her nose, slapping him in the back of the head once. Not hard, but hard enough. "You're welcome. Does it matter? At least you're not smeared all over this stupid field."

"How was I to know he was the only fuckin' one of us still in his own body? Or that human bones are so easy to snap? Like toothpicks or somethin'."

Resisting the urge to rub his head, not wanting to give Felicia any sort of satisfaction, Eridan got to his feet. Now that the adrenaline was dying down, he was starting to feel everything a bit more sharply too. Fuckin' useless human body.

"Thanks. There, we're ewen, so don't fuckin' slap me again."

"Is that what you normally look like?" Felicia raised her eyebrow, glancing back in the direction Gamzee had fled in although he was long gone. "Really, you should be thankful for the body you're in. That's not exactly anything to boast about."

She stood up after him, brushing grass off her knees and casually looking him over for grievous wounds. There were several that looked bad, but at least it didn't look like he'd be keeling over any time soon.

"Let's get you back. Can you walk?"

"God, I'm fuckin' offended you'd ewen think it. I'm a prince, not a droolin' freak; I look much more swelte and genteel and all that," Eridan muttered, examining himself as she did, and testing his ability to walk. It hurt, but it wasn't exactly anything he couldn't handle. In Felicia's presence he allowed a small limp, however. "horns and gills and all."

He tested his ability to walk by walking over to the juggling club Gamzee had left behind, picking it up with his good arm, feeling its weight in his hand. It'd make a nice trophy, or at least be something he could use to piss Gamzee off later. He was already formulating plans for a rematch, and one he fully intended to win.

"I can walk fine." Not flawlessly, but fine. Returning to Felicia's side, he glanced up at her. "So what should I be expectin' when we get back? How pissed off is he?"

He didn't ask with nervousness. In fact, it bordered on disinterest.

"Oh, he'll probably give you a lecture about being impulsive or careless, or who knows what else," Felicia said, brushing her hair off her shoulders and noting that limp. She didn't comment on it, however; she definitely wouldn't want anyone to if it were her. There was a certain level of dignity to keep in mind.

"I've heard it before. Maybe he'll mix it up a little." She turned, beginning to head back the way she'd come. She sounded almost amused at the prospect. "He loses it at the drop of a hat sometimes."

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if I was in world war two they'd call me spitfire.

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Are you about ready for Felicia to show up?

I'm good for that, yeah

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LJ NOTIFS WHY AREN'T YOU WORKING - AHHHHHH

NO WORRIES!!

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SORRYTHISISLATE

NOPROBLEM

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