capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

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WHO:

swwag and his

hasgonehonkers
WHERE: ~*~Somewhere in New Jersey~*~
WHEN: I DON'T... KNOW... SOMETIME DURING THE RIOTS I GUESS
WARNINGS: MOTHERFUCKERS AND FISH PUNS AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE
SUMMARY: Eridan and Gamzee have a hatedate during the rioting and get thrown out of a Waffle House. Then they duel about it.
FORMAT: PARA TO START, ANYTHING AFTERWARDS

Eridan sat at his half of his and Gamzee's booth, stirring his coffee idly with one hand and tapping a persistent, undoubtedly irritating staccato on the slightly grimy table with the neatly manicured nails of the other. This hiding out business had sort of been like one of those human vacation things (sort of), a reprieve from the constant threat of rainbow drinker annihilation or grimdark witchery, and he couldn't say he wholly hated it.

Better than human prison, at least.

"Remember, we're supposed to be hidin' out here. If they get your food wrong, don't fuckin' kill 'em right in front a God and ewerybody," Eridan muttered to Gamzee, leaving his coffee alone and instead continuing the tapping with his menu. "We wait 'til they get off and then break their legs or somethin'."

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"You do all motherfuckin' know that God would be up at being motherfuckin' happy with that wicked motherfuckin' shit, right? _{God's not at in getting disappointed with a lowblood all up and being slaughtered in front of other motherfuckers who are at on being jokebloods,}" Gamzee managed to keep both voices relatively quiet as he kept his focus on Eridan's tapping, "But we can motherfuckin' all settle up with motherfuckin' mutilating a motherfucker later instead."

If there weren't so many people around at least one finger of Eridan's would be snatched up and slowly bent backwards. That or Gamzee would at least threaten to break the pinky and smack Eridan with his own jewelry. As it was Gamzee just had to settle with reaching over with the intent to grab Eridan's tapping hand, glaring hard enough that in theory he wouldn't need to say why he was trying to do this.

"Tuna phrase," Eridan muttered, and then quickly corrected himself. "Turn a phrase I meant, anyway I already know about your subjugglatin' creed or whatewer, you don't gotta keep bringin' it up. I hear enough about it from your quasi-royal squawk blister anyway."

Then Gamzee grabbed his hand, and with a slight start and a narrowing of his eyes, Eridan pulled back. A sharp tug, actually, enough to communicate his irritation just as wordlessly.

Edited 2011-08-06 13:03 (UTC)

Gamzee pulled up his lips a bit and let the corners of his mouth tug down into a frown as he pulled his hand back. He might have been about to hiss something at Eridan and start yet another fight, but that's when the waitress came in.

Amazingly enough they'd gotten his order right, ribeye steak with fries and biscuits on the side (fuck getting waffles at Waffle House, he could make better waffles at home). He wasn't sure if they'd gotten Eridan's order right, but he'd let Eridan speak for himself on that. For the moment he was going to eat a biscuit and try not to just cram it in his mouth despite the strong temptation to do so. He didn't have much going for him, but at least Gamzee could pretend to be a little mannered sometimes.

They'd also managed getting Eridan's right - identical to Gamzee's, but with bacon instead of biscuits - and he immediately began hacking into the bloody steak, ignoring Gamzee for the moment. At least the subjugglator was trying not to be too terribly noticeable; with that steel arm of his, he was already a spectacle for anyone paying any attention to the two of them. Well, the arm and the loud, obscene fights they got into. Frequently.

"I was thinkin' a maybe headin' back to the City early," Eridan finally mentioned at length, doing the opposite of Gamzee and ignoring the disquieting amount of blood around his mouth. He was a prince, and these redblooded bastards didn't have anywhere near the authority to comment on his manners. He gestured to Gamzee with his knife. "They're hawin' riots or somesuch. We could get in and out without anyone payin' much attention to us, probably."

The biscuits were nothing but crumbs on the plate when Eridan spoke. Gamzee had managed not to shove everything down his throat at least. He'd kept his mouth clean and now Eridan couldn't get into a fight with him about that - Eridan who looked like a rainbow drinker at the moment, who fought with him about being messy, and who prided himself on acting like a royal - and Gamzee narrowed his eyes.

"_{Sounds all up at being good to my ownself.} And my own-motherfuckin'-self. _{But I'm not all sure you can get at up at being anywhere without all getting on your ownself up in being noticed,}" he pointed right at Eridan's chin, "For motherfuckin' being up at being a motherfuckin' prince you're not all motherfuckin' being up at in much of one, motherfucker."

Edited 2011-08-08 02:56 (UTC)

"I only bother actin' princely around people properly deserwin' a the treatment," Eridan shot back, eyes narrowing in Gamzee's direction. He had a point too, which only irritated the seadweller further; he wiped his mouth and tossed the balled-up napkin in Gamzee's lap.

Or at it, anyway, maybe it'd hit his face or something. Then he reached for his coffee, switching out the anger for his normal patronizing.

"Remember who's the hemosuperior here."

"_{Don't worry Eridan.} We won't motherfuckin' forget we're up at being all motherfuckin' higher than you," he said smugly as he tossed the napkin, which had miraculously both hit his face and landed in his lap, at Eridan's coffee. Then the clown was cutting away at his steak, not bothering to look up to see if the grimy bloodied ball of paper was soaking up everything and turning brown.

It would have been difficult anyway to focus on watching Eridan deal with a potential coffee disaster, cutting his steak, and going for a last second "accidental" kick at the same time. Just sticking with the cutting and kicking was more than enough.

Edited 2011-08-09 02:12 (UTC)

Eridan stared at the napkin in his coffee, taking the kick with a flinch and still not removing his eyes from the browning wad of bloody napkin.

Then he threw both coffee - still steaming hot black coffee, actually - and paper ball at the general direction of Gamzee's face. The gauntlet was thrown.

It was on.

Oh hell no. Challenge accepted.

Gamzee sat for a moment, letting the hot black liquid stream down his face. Then he set down his utensils, bending his fork as he did. For a split second anyone could see that the clown's make-up was running a little into his snarl. In the next second Gamzee lunged across the table and hit anything he got his hands on, making it hard to see much of anything of the boy besides a blur.

The staff rushed over, yelling something that Gamzee couldn't make out.

Eridan couldn't really make it out either, on account of getting socked in the cheek. Trying to fend Gamzee's punches off with his forearms and shoulders, he chose instead to hook his feet underneath and flip the table Gamzee was currently leaning over. Either it would work and give him some breathing room or Gamzee would curb the attempt and then hit him some more, and Eridan would just have to use the steak knife still in hand.

Kind of difficult when your opponent could flash step.

That table flip half worked. As the table flipped a bit Eridan got the space he needed, but then Gamzee flashstepped halfway through the move. As the table knocked over other chairs and banged on the floor Gamzee threw another punch at Eridan, this time from his side.

Whether the punch landed or not Gamzee couldn't be sure as he felt someone yank him up from the back of his shirt - was Eridan grabbed just then too? - and was forcibly tossed out the restaurant's door.

"Don't even think about coming back!" he heard right before the doors were slammed shut.

The side punch connected, rendering Eridan easy enough to drag and toss out the door right alongside Gamzee. Sitting up on the sidewalk, wincing under his breath, it was tempting to ignore what he'd said earlier and just wreck everyone inside for even daring to throw two highbloods out. But no, it would give away their position and Eddie would be less than thrilled to hear about it.

Instead he turned his attention - and growing wrath - towards Gamzee.

"Get outta the dirt, shitblood," he hissed, standing and drawing his wand. The subjugglator ought to know an impending duel when he saw one.

He did. There was no mistaking what was going on when a weapon was finally drawn.

"Motherfuckin' have it up at your motherfuckin' ownself's way, bro."

Gone and back again in an instant, the messiahs moved to hit the sea dweller from behind.

Without having the chance to reenter the restaurant, without having the chance to rend flesh from bone and make a whole dining room red, Gamzee would just have to focus all his rage on his awful prince. Which meant that though this was the one person the subjugglator wasn't aiming to kill right now he sure as hell wasn't going to just be hitting with a fist. He was swinging with a club though not his favorite one. Soon he'd come to see that that was probably his best decision in this fight.

Eridan was getting better at fighting Gamzee, but by no means did he excel at it; the blow caught him heavy on the shoulder, mid-turn to see if... well, if Gamzee had shown up behind him, and he winced.

Then he threw himself bodily at Gamzee, reaching for the club.

"You wanna fuckin' fight in front of these slimy shitbloods and blow our cower?" he hissed, wand aimed as best as possible at some essential part of the subjugglator in case Gamzee decided to continue anyway.

Eridan's unexpected weight almost pushed Gamzee off balance, but he managed to stay upright in part because of the sea dweller's pull on the club. Swinging attempt number two was prevented by the threat of getting a searing hole through his lung. Didn't prevent him from scowling at Eridan though.

After a long pause he said "_No. Where the motherfuck all do you up and motherfuckin' want to get at fighting then, motherfucker?"

Edited 2011-08-15 06:41 (UTC)

Eridan stepped back from Gamzee without removing his wand from a potential lung-destroying vantage point or letting go of the club, glancing around. His eyes locked onto what looked like a narrow alley leading into some other building's parking lot. A lone streetlight hung beside it, dim and flickering.

Man, this place had some really good duel mood lighting.

"Ower there," he muttered, stepping back and letting go of the club. His wand stayed aimed where it was, though. "Go on, get mowin'. We'll walk side-by-side."

He could have just flashstepped out of that wand's reach. He could have made it clear that the wand would have to have been buried a little under his skin before he considered it too much of a threat to his speed. Yet he also knew that staying right beside Eridan also meant he'd get another shot at clubbing his kismesis and make it doubly insulting since he wouldn't even have to disappear before he went for that move.

So, with a smile Gamzee said "_Fine." Then he walked.

Eridan knew. Knew, implicitly, that Gamzee could just beat him unconscious, walking side by side like this. It wouldn't be hard.

Still, when Gamzee started walking, Eridan pressed the tip of his wand between his kismesis' shoulder blades and kept pace. At enough of an angle where it'd just wreck his prosthetic arm, of course - he didn't want to kill his kismesis - but was still a crippling blow, something awful and incapacitating to some degree that would no doubt be irritating to deal with until Equius was around to fix it. He didn't know when Gamzee would make his move, and Gamzee didn't know if he'd just decide to cheat in the adjoining alleyway, where flash stepping would be slightly more difficult, and there was something kind of fun about that.

If Gamzee looked over, he'd see Eridan smirking.

Gamzee growled at the wand pushing into his skin, it'd be such a pain in the ass if he lost that arm again. Glancing from the corner of his eye he caught Eridan's expression and sneered. Sneered and then casually went to step on one of Eridan's toes as they kept walking.

There'd be many things working against him in the alley and he knew it well before they were at the mouth if it. Still, his expression had turned back into a grin along the way and the second he found opportunity to Gamzee was flash stepping before that wand could go off.

Of course he was gone before the alley. Eridan took off running into the alley proper, wand held high and ready to fire - normally it'd be best to stay in the alley and keep his back to a wall, limit Gamzee's movement, but he wasn't looking for that. Today he was going to win.

He bolted straight through the alleyway and into the parking lot proper, the slightest noise grabbing his attention immediately.

"You done playin' hide and seek? 'Cos I'm ready to do this the way our ancestors woulda."

Ignoring, for the moment, how Dualscar died in shame at the Grand Highblood's hands for not being motherfuckin funny enough. Ignoring how every drop of his precious royal blood ended up smeared across the Grand Highblood's throne and walls.

"Wasn't motherfuckin' at being hid, motherfucker. _{And if you wanna get your ass all up and to you like your joke of ancestor did then I'm at being happy to get in providing you all that wicked shit,}" Gamzee shouted, not caring that Eridan could fire at him if he pinpointed his location from his noise, right before he flash stepped.

He stepped, as usual, to a spot behind Eridan and was swinging his club right away. It had always worked out well for him before, why shouldn't it work out now?

Eridan heard the shout, pinpointed the general direction of where it came from, and he knew. Had been watching every time Gamzee flash stepped around the house, in their duels, in general, ever since he noticed the pattern to the steps. Weeks of goading the subjugglator into miniature duels and trying not to be obvious in observing his step pattern. Days of memorizing it. All down to this.

By the time Gamzee went to swing, Eridan had already turned on him, and grabbed the wrist of the hand swinging the club. His wand was at his kismesis' throat.

"Checkmate."

Gamzee let out a sharp breath between his fangs and his eyes widened as he registered the tight grip on his wrist and the wand pressing against his windpipe. Flash stepping as fast as he could now wouldn't get him out of this grip or out of a quick blast. He had lost. Seconds in and he'd lost a duel.

"Motherfucker," he snarled, the surprise finally wiped from his face.

Club slipped out of his grasp and into his inventory, the slack weight of his arm in Eridan's hand an admission of defeat.

As the surprise fell from Gamzee's face, the triumph - the terrible, sneering triumph - slipped into Eridan's. He bared his teeth in a smile that, while more impressive when he had fangs to go with it, still managed to be disquietingly bestial, flicked his wand off the underside of Gamzee's chin, and laughed in the subjugglator's face.

"I fuckin' won!" he shouted, announcing to an invisible crowd, strolling off with his wand held proud and then strolling immediately back to Gamzee. "I won. Holy fuckin' shit."

He sneered in Gamzee's face, jabbing him in the solar plexus with his wand.

"Now, bein' the wictor and your superior in blood and battle, I order you to get on your fuckin' knees and bow to me, like your shitblooded kind always has."

Gamzee's snarl grew worse as Eridan laughed. Eridan, victorious at last, practically above him. It made his blood boil to the point where he started to see bits of purple on the edges of his vision. Hearing more of Eridan's gloating and feeling the wand sink into his skin pushed him far enough that he couldn't take it anymore. The words needed to stop and his rage needed to go somewhere.

He lunged forward -not caring about what the wand would do to his body-, grabbing for Eridan's face, and aimed to press his lips and teeth into his kismesis's own. He didn't know exactly what he was doing nor could he maneuver that well with his teeth.

The wand ended up caught between them, sputtering and dying. Without concentration, the science just sort of died on Eridan, and right now he wasn't exactly concentrating too intently on it.

Eridan's taunting and his sneers died off, not fighting but not really reciprocating either. Not even particularly responding. He just kind of stood there.

Well, that was a disappointment. It only took Gamzee a second to realize that Eridan wasn't going to reciprocate and so he pulled back and let go Eridan's face. His expression was unreadable for the most part, though there was a definite undercurrent of rage that Eridan could see as Gamzee carefully studied Eridan's own face. He was too unsure of himself and too nervous to say anything, he felt some kind of rejection already, he didn't want to hear it too.

Still Gamzee didn't want to give Eridan a focus on something else either, so rather than move the wand in a different direction - the smart thing to do - he left it as it was and hoped he hadn't screwed up enough that he'd soon have to flash step as far away as possible.

Edited 2011-08-24 08:28 (UTC)

Gamzee stepped back, and Eridan stared. Of all the things he'd expected Gamzee to do - hit him, cuss him, spit in his face - this was the absolute last, and the bewilderment on his face showed it. For a long moment afterwards, he kept staring, examining his kismesis' expression intently.

Eridan rushed forward and dragged Gamzee back to him, his wand clattering to the pavement. His kiss was hungry, desperate, and had entirely too much teeth in it to be entirely comfortable for either of them.

Gamzee resisted not at all as Eridan pulled him back for another kiss.

He didn't care much about the comfort of the kiss, but he cared for the returned hateful affection. Teeth met lip, teeth, and lip again in the most awkward and eager fashion possible. In a second his arms clumsily moved to grip on Eridan's shoulder and back.

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NAT THE UPDATE

STILL SCREAMING

MALKDLFAJ CLAWS FACE FOREVER

TOO MUCH TO HANDLE

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I see someone is staying up until late o'clock again

lmfao crying at my internal clock

Both of our internal clocks suck AND I HOPE THE SKIPPING INTO THE ALLEY IS FINE, tell me if it isn't

oh my gosh they do AND IT'S FINE

='| Just never going to sleep right

NEVER EVER AND TELL ME IF THIS IS NOT ALRIGHT

AS YOU ALREADY KNOW IT IS FINE

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LOOK AT THAT THIS CONTINUOS TROLLING UPDATE also tell me if this is okay

IT'S COOL

AND WHAT THE HELL I'LL JUST EDIT IT FOR A THIRD TIME

I DID and i won't be on aim again until later :c

THAT'S FINE I am going through my tumblr and I have no appropriate icons