capeandcowllogs | 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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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."

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

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