animus_network | .004 ♒ chronicAugustus began drowning in self-loathing. [Text]

[Equius sends a look at that arm. It's pretty obvious that he's itching to just get a look at it, if only because it's Eridan and god knows Eridan will try to make it worse if he doesn't immediately make it better. But he doesn't. As far as he knows, the skin just broke, it should heal itself fine in a day or so, as long as he doesn't try to go itching at the same spot again. So yeah — Equius' eage eyes are pretty much going to be focused on your nervous tics until the end of this conversation.]

...Keep existing? [It was... an interesting thought. Equius had never been of the opinion that he really needed to 'keep existing' after death would come to him. Perhaps it could be chalked up to his pretty fucked-up state of mind. It never struck him as necessary. And now that this conversation is happening, he finds himself still a little bit unsure of the whole idea — not because Feferi was doing it, but again because of the whole 'after death' part. There was no reason for him, or any of them, to continue existing. They would have a life after death outside the universe, but... why? Where would they go? What would they do? Who would even want them, flawed and failed as they are?]

[This is much too deep a discussion to be having in the middle of a conversation, even if it's — uh — this one. Maybe he'll go back and dwell on this more tonight.]

And you feel guilty for allowing her to do that. Was there some problem in the deal she made?

I don't know!

[Hands twitching, claws dying to start tearing at something. Damn.]

If we Scratched the session, the ones who died would move on elsewhere. But only the ones who died before the Scratch. So it was either waiting for the demon to swoop in or... well. What Fef did.

[He runs a hand through his hair fretfully. He's such a little ball of hyperactive nervous freak outs just waiting to happen. He might have to go hide in a corner and never come out ~~except for the part he still needs to have Karkat much about his ridiculous excuse for a love life~~. And then, flatly:]

I wasn't supposed to make it. I wasn't supposed to be here. You weren't supposed to be here. Just. It's fucked up and I was trying really fucking hard not to think about it, and Karkat kept pushing and I am a grubfucking shitstain who got all of you culled horribly instead of talking shit out because I freaked the fuck out.

[...wow. Okay. Uh. Excuse. Him. While he digs out his own claws from his arm. Shit. Uh. That was a rather unpleasant, wet sound. Like claws being slowly, methodically pulled out of flesh. Shit. He probably ruined the jacket. Damn.]

...sorry. I mean. About that and. You know. I'm sorry.

[Jesus fuck, Ampora, would it kill you to keep it together and have a serious discussion about all your fucking failures without collapsing into an awkward mess of feelings and slight insanity? ~~Yes.~~]

[As could be predicted by a six-week-old intoxicated monkey, Equius jumps at Eridan's initial outburst, and soon settles for absolute confusion thereafter as he tries to make sense of this poor, horrible jadeblood's babbling and nonsense. Not once does it occur to him that this is what he himself does on a dangerously-close-to-constant basis. No, he's just going to sit here and listen and— wow you're going back to your arm there, Eridan. He can only stay silent for so long, but if Eridan even notices, he's basically staring at his jacket sleeve and not his face. Not too flatteringly, either.]

H-hey— [...Oh that didn't work out so well. Equius' voice dies quickly when That Noise makes its first appearance, and it is quickly replaced by a sharp intake of breath and a face that clearly says, "Ouch". Even though he wasn't even the one trying to dig his claw into his arm. He's just been sitting in here in a state of... well, yes, fear would be the word. Fear would be the word because he is pretty concerned for Eridan's mental health right now. Eridan is not supposed to be the one sitting in their shared respiteblock babbling about incoherent nonsense, that's Equius' job, and... you know what he's just going to go across the room and kneel down in front of his trunk now. Good thing he nicked some gauze from the infirmary, because that wound? Is definitely no longer minor.]

...Before you go any further, would you take off your jacket? [He's not making much uncertainty as to what he wants to do — this is seriously starting to freak him out, and usually, going nurse mode on people is enough to calm him down again. Who knows if it'll work now, because it's not even him in hysterics or anything, but it's worth a shot, and Eridan probably needs to get that treated too. Lots of germs in this room, for all he's done to keep it clean. And even more on Eridan's clothes, which he... does absolutely nothing to keep clean. Hhe doesn't even know about Eridan's clothes-washing habits, but he's not stupid enough to think that every troll in the world is as neurotic about diseases as he is.]

[Yeah, just going to sit down on the bed next to you, Eridan. It's not like this was an excuse to get closer without looking too concerned or anything. ...Well, it partially wasn't. But patching up some guy's wound shows just as much concern, doesn't it?]

[Eridan drums his claws on his arms, which might not be the smartest idea in the world, and then he flushes and pales and flushes again at that suggestion.]

...do I have to?

[Because he really doesn't want to. You don't want to see the things he's done to those poor arms underneath that jacket.]

... Yes.

[Why are you so unwilling to take off that jacket...? If Equius had any idea about the concept of a safety blanket, that's what he would be suspecting now.]

...right.

[Eridan winces. Then very... casually, pulls the red jacket off.]

It looks worse than it really is, honest.

[It's just that his habit to worry his clothes with his claws has somehow evolved into a manic compulsion to tear strips of skin off his arms when he's upset. Which he's been. Repeatedly. Since he came back.

Uh.

Yay for lots of jade scabs? Lots of them. Eridan's claws are very well sharpened.]

[...]

[Equius is silent for a very, very long time.]

...What.

Did you do.

To your arms.

[...yeah, he's wilting under the glare of those shades. They're fucking stupid shades and they somehow manage to look very intimidating right now.

Unconsciously, Eridan goes to show, rather than tell, claws sinking into skin as he opens his mouth with a wince.]

I. Uh.

[Tear.]

Nothing much, really.

[Eridan may notice a strong jerking of the arm that he used to rip at the skin.]

[Didn't know Equius could move that fast, did you? Well, he can, and he's now holding Eridan's wrist in a death grip.]

That's a lie.

[...um. Yeah. Okay. Wow. Shit son, you just cowered the unstable, occasionally would-be-murderous troll.]

It's just.

[Eridan swallows hard.]

...reflexive? Doesn't really hurt all that much. Or at all, really.

[Equius is not having any of your bullshit. And he's not backing down from it, either. This may be the first time it's happened in... well, ever.]

You're breaking skin, Eridan. That is also a lie.

[Another wince.]

It's okay, really! Eq. Equius. Just. You know, Scratches.

[He offers a little hoarse, very unconvincing laugh.]

Haha, me and scratches huh.

[He wilts even more.]

...that's not really funny at all is it.

No. It's not.

[Still not letting go of that arm. It's just... argh.]

And neither is that. [He means, of course, the delightful latticework of scars, and he gestures towards it with his head.]

Now sit still, and for the love of god, don't touch your arm.

...'m sorry.

[Because yeah, he screwed up again, didn't he. He ducks his head, flinching somewhat.]

[Instead of responding, Equius breathes deeply and sets to work on the horrible mess that is Eridan's arm. They're all scars by now, so he's not sure if he can do much for them, but upsetting scars? Definitely not a good idea. Plus there's that fresh wound in the middle there.]

I just... [It's a valiant attempt, but unfortunately Equius does not know or cannot say what he "just", so let's move on to something else instead.] No. It's fine. I'm sorry. [He doesn't sound quite so angry anymore, but the tone is still much harder than it would be on any other day.]

[Eridan holds still for. Perhaps fifteen seconds. Precisely. He knows, he counted. And then he started twitching, clicking the tips of his claws with each other. You know. Nervous energy. Right.

Man this was so not how he expected this to go.]

...I can go. If you want. I mean. I said my shit and owned up my bullshit and I really understand if you'd rather drop me off a cliff than help out, so I can. You know. Leave. If you want.

[Oh hey, now he's worrying his thigh, though at least for now all he's doing is messing with denim. Denim is thick enough to handle his claws better than his shirt.]

No!

[Another deep breath.]

...Eridan, if I wanted you to leave I would have told you to leave. I don't want to drop you off a cliff, at all. So please stay still.

[He sees that claw, Eridan. Don't think he doesn't.]

[Eridan flinches again, flattering his hand against his thigh. He listens to Equius for a moment, before his fingers start to drum again. And soon enough he's clicking his claws again.]

It's just. You know. Not a big deal.

[He shrugs a little, probably disrupting Equius' business with that arm.]

I mean. I'm just gonna die, right? And then it'll get reset again.

[Okay, yeah, clicking claws. Fine. Do that, Eridan. Really. Just. Do i--]

What did I just tell you about MOVING YOUR ARM?!

...Shit.

Ohfuck.

[Yeah. Okay. Yes. Flinching and cowering openly, fuck this shit, Equius Zahhak is a goddamn scary motherfucker when he's pissed.]

[...]

[He stays there, kneeling on the bed, fists clenched and looking more like a goddamn demon than anything else at the moment, for quite a while as his brain tries to process what happened and what he just did. And what Eridan just did.]

[Well, at least he's not the only one who fucked up.]

[HAHAHAHA...]

[So after staring glassy-eyed at Eridan for a few seconds more, Equius promptly sinks back down onto the bed and parks his face firmly in his hands.]

...oh my god, eridan. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.

[Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Eridan has one moment of internal panicked flailing, before his face falls into the purest concern.]

Hey, hey.

[He hesitates a moment before reaching out, trying to hold Equius' shoulders.]

Don't be sorry. Please. Eq, Eq, c'mon. It's not your fault, I'm sorry I was an asshole and didn't own up to shit from the start. I'm sorry you had to find out like this. I'm sorry I fucked up. You're not... you didn't fuck up at all, it was my fault. Please.

[Yeah, he. Doesn't like this. Like, at all. And the problem here is that the only person he can punch for this is himself.]

Zahhak, don't make me hug you. I will so fucking hug you if you don't snap out of it. C'mon.

no, i— [The glasses, the horrible stupid glasses, have been discarded off to the side by now; they were kind of restricting his range of motion, at a point where his range of motion is trying to claw his eyes out with only the pads of his hands. Or, at least, that's what it looks like. He's clutching his head harder now, because he really — he really had to snap at Eridan now. Now, of all times. When the bastard was feeling at his absolute worst.]

[He's a horrible person. He's a horrible person. He's a horrible person.]

i'm a horrible person. i'm a horrible person. i'm a horrible person.

Oh, Eq. You know that's bullshit.

[Eridan sounds deeply concerned and more than a little heartbroken about that. This is his fault, he's certain. It's always his fault.]

No, you're not a horrible person. You're so far removed from being a horrible person it's not even funny anymore.

[And yeah, he's inching in to try and wrap his arms around the larger troll, pulling his face towards his shoulder.]

Please don't say that about yourself, Eq.

[Have some awkward attempts at petting. Certainly not papping, though. There's nothing pale about this.]

Hon, don't be like that. You're one of the best people here. The bestest. I'm sorry I made you mad. If anyone's a horrible person here is me. Hon, please...

[Equius looks up shortly after Eridan says the first sentence. Judging from the way he opens his mouth, he doesn't agree with it. Even in this completely wrecked state of mind, he still wants to argue his case — he is a horrible person and there's absolutely nothing anyone can do about it. He just is. He's a horrible person and he can't even keep his goddamn temper in check. What the hell is up with that? His temper? For god's sake, really? The one thing he was always able to shut up, always, inevitably? That would never ruin his life again? Why'd it have to come out now? Why'd it have to come out at all? What the fuck was wrong with him that he was actually deteriorating so much inside this Tower, and if he was — which he was — goddammit — what the hell would he be at the end of it? Completely worthless, instead of just mostly worthless?]

[Fuck, he doesn't want to be worthless. Fuck.]

[He doesn't make a sound or move a muscle when Eridan comes near him, too lost in his thoughts to notice. What little he does register mostly consists of the fact that there's a jadeblood with his arms around him, and maybe he's saying something and maybe he's not, and it just feels really good. Equius still has next to no idea what he's doing, mind; if he did, he probably wouldn't be noticing this at all. Too busy with psychology and denial and all the sick things in the corners of his head. So, for now at least, the logical choice of action is clear.]

[He sinks promptly into it, spine hunched over so much that he can actually rest the bridge of his nose on Eridan's shoulder. And he does. Eridan now officially has one yellowblooded pillbug leaning against him, and a moment later, there's the hands around his back. They're still clutching tightly, of course, but this time it's to the back of Eridan's shirt.]

[Needless to say, he really doesn't give a damn if there are scars back there.]

Edited 2012-09-01 07:33 (UTC)

[action sob oh noooooo]

[action your tears fuel my feels machine]

[action your machine was built by enslaved hands on the creaking backbone of our relationship]

[action do tell me more about creaking backbones, man]

[action oh my god you are intolerable]

[action whoa whoa whoa, hitting on the black quadrant like that, how shameless]

[action oh did you want to go the other way instead]

[action I am a wilting flower, your STRONG advances are more than I can handle]

[action you are a wilting pile of bullshit is what you are]

[action but it's your favorite type of bullshit, don't lie]

[action I will not lie. you are my favorite kind.]

[action I do strive to please, yes...]

[action I suddenly feel deeply and personally threatened]

[action oh baby, don't flatter me]

[action I will flatter you in whichever mildly unsettling manner I wish]

[action oh baby, how could I resist you]

[action you can't]

[action good thing i don't want to either B3]

[action tee hee]

[action rawr, literally]

[action mee-yoohfuck]

[action and there you go, twisting the knife right in the feelings]

[action this is a shitty tag, I'm sorry]

[action look at my baby, you broke his heart]

[action yeah he does that sometimes]