(Untitled)

[hasgonehonkers]

WHO: Eridan and Gamzee
WHERE: In a farmhouse which is now Gamzee's house since he took it
WHEN: Night of June 10th after Eridan has lost his fight with Gamzee
WARNINGS: Eridan has already been beat up, but there might be more violence. There's definitely lots of swearing and Gamzee being creepy, painting the wall with blood creepy.
SUMMARY: Eridan

Comments

last edit, I swear

[hasgonehonkers]

Gamzee's grin grew a little more at that comment about Eridan supposedly having his technique pinned and let it grow even further still at the sound of that lovely wheeze. It didn't sound quite as nice as the sound made when he was breaking Eridan's ribs, but it was a nice sound all on its own and the fact that it would keep up for awhile was something Gamzee was delighted with. It had been tempting to do break more of Eridan, but really he wanted his kismesis to stay at breathing for now and some of his red feelings had made him a little hesitant to push any farther too. Still, although Gamzee couldn't break more of his kismesis he could settle for harassing Eridan instead.

He waited until Eridan was done speaking before he made any move of his own. Gamzee tilted his head to the side and pressed his thumb and fingers against his chin, making it look like he may have been thinking things over.

Then he disappeared.

When he reappeared he was right in front of Eridan, looming over him a little, his shadow blocking most of the light that had been on Eridan before.

"You'll all motherfuckin' get to motherfuckin' all leave when we decide you're getting up at doing well enough to get you somewhere motherfuckin' better suited for your motherfuckin' pathetic ownself, Eridan."

[swwag]

Gamzee was there, and then Gamzee wasn't there anymore; knowing what that meant, the memory of what came next still freshly burned in his mind, Eridan jolted back against the wall on instinct and immediately regretted it with a low hiss. Godfuckingdammit. His pain tolerance was still impressive by human standards - one of the things a new form couldn't take from him, it seemed - but that didn't mean smashing a side full of busted ribs into a wall didn't hurt like hell. And whatever he had in pain tolerance, Gamzee tripled. Maybe quadrupled. If he actually noticed things like chunks blown out of him or broken bones, fighting him would be a lot easier.

"Oh how thoughtful a you to do such," He spat, sneering. "Cut the shit, Gam, I don't need grubsittin'. I can manage just fuckin' fine on my own without you."

He was aware of the second meaning to that last sentence, but wasn't feeling kind enough to clarify his wording any. Let Gamzee panic or, more likely, get pissed off. He could likely handle a few more rounds in the wringer and it'd go to show later how durable he was. Or something. His thoughts were a bit hazy at the moment.

[hasgonehonkers]

Gamzee's grin fell a little. For the first split second that seemed like it'd be his only reaction, but then he snarled a bit and glared. He considered not saying about that last line, just letting it sit as something that was part of the grubsitting statement, but then Eridan had already seen how it had gotten to him a little, hadn't he? Couldn't leave that alone.

"You all mind getting up at repeating that last line?" He asked and leaned in a little closer, his hands moved to the wall to prevent Eridan from attempting to move away.

His next words came out as almost a hiss, "I'd all motherfuckin' think real motherfuckin' carefully about what you all motherfuckin' say."

[swwag]

"Aw, did I hurt your feelins?" Eridan sneered back, fearlessly. Or maybe that was a concussion. Either way, being trapped didn't seem to visibly bother him, and he leaned in as much as he could in his condition to try and intimidate Gamzee back.

"What's the matter, Gam? Don't tell me you're that fuckin' sensitiwe. I might start worryin' about you."

[hasgonehonkers]

Intimidation may have been what Eridan had been aiming for, but he only succeeded in pissing off Gamzee a little more. His words helped nothing.

"Oh, we'll all show you what's up at getting hurt around here, Eridan."

Moving one of his arms quickly Gamzee aimed to slam Eridan back into the wall while pressing hard against his already broken ribs. Being as angry as he was Gamzee wasn't terribly concerned about whether or not breaking another rib, or at least further damaging the already broken ribs further, might be a little too much for Eridan right now.

[swwag]

Eridan wasn't exactly surprised when Gamzee crushed him against the wall again - he'd more or less expected this reaction and had gone along with it anyway - but the low cracking noise over his own pained snarl turned it into a strangled whine. He hadn't been expecting that.

Lacking any way to legitimately hurt Gamzee at this distance, he chose instead to just go for the gusto and piss the subjugglator off as thoroughly as he could manage. Throw the power balance as much as he could in this condition. Worst case scenario was death, and then he'd just show back up, right? Gamzee wouldn't keep him tortured and useless for long. He'd get bored and want his kismesis back.

So Eridan spit in his face.

"Piss off, subjugglator."

[hasgonehonkers]

The slight pleasure Gamzee gained from that whine was destroyed by that spit. It only took him a second to wipe it off, but that second seemed to drag on for a bit and it was more than enough time for Gamzee to think about how to respond Eridan.

Swiftly Gamzee moved to close their previous distance, one hand went for the ribs again to keep the pain on and to keep Eridan against the wall. Moving his other hand with the spit on it to grab part of Eridan's chin and throat Gamzee intended to force Eridan's head back a little. He breathed down his kismesis's neck for a second before he began to hiss into his ear.

"Motherfuckin' all make us, seadweller."

[swwag]

The brief moment between being focused on and being pinned to the wall, Eridan forced a sneer - mostly to make up for the unintentional whine earlier, to give him back a little bit of his pride. Then Gamzee had him crushed against the wall and snarling through the stabbing pain in his side, hissing in his ear, and the sneer turned into a snarl, a low growl in his throat. The hand of his broken arm clung ineffectively at the one on his ribs.

"Fine," Eridan spat, and with his good arm reached up awkwardly to yank at one of Gamzee's horns. If he just moved fast enough... well he didn't have a good chance of doing anything particularly noteworthy no matter how hard he tried, but still. It was the trying part that counted.

[hasgonehonkers]

In the time that Eridan went for one of his horns Gamzee considered moving out of the way, but a few things made him to decide to let Eridan get his horn. Firstly, Gamzee was arrogant enough, thought probably right, to think that Eridan couldn't do anything even if he did yank his horn. Secondly, whatever was left of this fight would only be made more interesting if Eridan had at least a little hope to fight some more. Thirdly, that weak clinging hand of Eridan's reminded Gamzee of how injured Eridan was right now. The expression Gamzee had shouldn't have given too much of his thought process away, but all the same hoped that the angle Eridan wouldn't see his face while he was contemplating everything.

So, while trying to hide his emotions, Gamzee let Eridan yank on his horn. As usual he felt no real pain, just the pull of the action and reacted with nothing more than giving Eridan something of an amused look. His hands were still where they'd been before and the force behind them hadn't really lessened.

"Oh, you all got one horn. What motherfuckin' all are you going to get up at motherfuckin' doing with that?"

[swwag]

"Well someday I'm gonna hawe it turned into a fuckin' fork and the other into a knife for my dish drawer, actually."

Just to be difficult, Eridan gave another hard yank on Gamzee's horn. Then he forced his usual haughty and disinterested-in-Gamzee's-shenanigans tone of voice, rolling his eyes. The hand at the subjugglator's wrist slipped away and idly adjusted his scarf, though with obvious touches of frailty.

"Why don't you just go back to your little fingerpaintin' project and take your filthy landlubbin' hands off royalty? I'm gettin' sick just hawin' to acknowledge you touchin' my ownself."

[hasgonehonkers]

"You all actually think you're good enough to up and get the horns off and properly carve them?" He asked sounding like he might laugh.

Gamzee still didn't react much to the yank. It was a little annoying, but not really noteworthy beyond that. What did grab his attention again was Eridan's hand moving away. The adjustment Eridan made on his hideous scarf seemed like a particularly feeble movement to Gamzee. He almost frowned, but them he had an opportunity to be an ass to Eridan about his word choice and he couldn't pass that up.

"Your motherfuckin' ownself is all motherfuckin' up at motherfuckin' taking other motherfuckin' things he should all be acknowledging from a motherfuckin' landdweller. And if any motherfucker is up at being filthy it's your own-funny-self. And I all motherfuckin' need to see that you're motherfuckin' up at being as clean as you motherfuckin' can all be with your motherfuckin' jokeblood, so you can motherfuckin' deal with it."

And with that Gamzee moved to pick Eridan up not really giving a fuck about how comfortable Eridan would or wouldn't be with his hold, but at least now avoiding trying to make any of his injuries worse.

[swwag]

"Yeah, keep indulgin' your ego on tripe and bullshittin' you westigial aquatic. You're a sandsuckin' subjugglator; you're real fuckin' fortunate I ewen considered you for my kismesis."

Eridan brushed over most of the points Gamzee brought up or jabbed at, not having a proper rebuttal to them and making himself not particularly care to answer. Because that was an infinitely better option. But being picked up was a step too far; the halfhearted tugging on his kismesis' horn turned to shoves and elbowing and indignated writhing to get loose, along with a stream of obscenities somehow a measure worse than the usual ones.

"Get your filthy fuckin' fins off a me, shitblood - did I ask for your fuckin' help?" he snarled, half because he was pissed and his pride was hurting, and half because moving around this much sort of hurt like hell. But even if Gamzee wasn't looking to make his injuries worse, Eridan didn't really seem to care. He'd jam broken rib shards into his vital organs if he damn well pleased.

[hasgonehonkers]

"You're all just making shit be up at being worse for your ownself by struggling, you dumb motherfucker," was all Gamzee said as Eridan struggled.

One elbowing was particularly annoying, but Gamzee didn't do anything beyond frown at that. He needed to make sure Eridan didn't break as much of himself as possible, so the faster this went the better.

Flash stepping wasn't something Gamzee was sure Eridan wouldn't feel nauseous about experiencing afterward, but it was going to be necessary to get everything done. So, he tried to keep a good hold on Eridan while he tried to flash step to the room with all the medical supplies he'd managed to gather.

Once in the room he'd be more than happy to drop Eridan on the one clear space left in the room, an old wooden table.

"Stay the motherfuck there so you don't all motherfuckin' kill your motherfuckin' ownself."

If that all went well Gamzee would just be heading straight for the best material for a splint that he knew of in the room.

[swwag]

The struggling lasted as long as it took for Gamzee to flash step, mostly because that was around the time the nausea hit; he slackened, becoming dead irritating weight, pressing his face into Gamzee's neck and glaring hotly at nothing in particular, the press of fangs at his throat an empty threat. (Biting your enemy's throat out was decidedly bestial and desperate, after all, and would probably be some measure worse than just dying with some pride. Sea princes didn't lower themselves to that.)

"Real cawalier for a shitblood, throwin' a prince around like that... but I'll tolerate it 'cos you got almost-unshitbloodedness and doin' that to me personally takes a whole lot a moxy," he commented after being dumped on the table, though he made his look of distaste at having to touch the old wooden table obvious. "This time. Don't fuckin' do it again." A brief pause. He righted himself in his seat and coughed, hand at his aching ribs. Then he muttered, though well within hearing range for anyone in the room.

"Can't ewen beliewe my kismesis is liwin' in such a disgustin' hole in the wall; what a upright goddamn shameful tableau."

[hasgonehonkers]

And Gamzee knew well enough that Eridan wouldn't have bitten or his face might have been shoved away, that or Gamzee would have at least paused for a bit in his actions. As it was he had gathered just about everything for the splint, the items were carefully balanced in his one arm while he used the other to grab last part.

"It's all up at having running water, much better than it all could be. And the motherfuckin' place all motherfuckin' looks better than you all motherfuckin' do right now, lowblood prince," he said avoiding the most of the other comments since in a way they were almost compliments, which were almost weird to hear admittedly, and he didn't particularly want to start a fight about those when the last one was much better for that anyway.

He had finally grabbed the last piece of material and was making his way back over to the table when he commanded, though not in a harsh tone, "Take off your shirt, it doesn't all up to need at being in the way of us trying to make your shit better."

[swwag]

"That's just 'cos you fuckin' pulled some random fuckin' power outta nowhere, on top a my bein' in this sickenin' body, alright?" he snapped, watching Gamzee move around and pick up this or that. "Now that I'm familiar with your tricks, our next duel may or may not end up bein' your last, shitblood. Depends on whether or not I'm feelin' generous."

By the time Gamzee had come back to him, though, the harshness of his mood had faded. He unwound his scarf and pulled off his shirt without particular argument, tossing them on the table beside him, and looked back at Gamzee with undeniable smugness. Grating, silent smugness, with a grating, silently smug smirk.

"Go ahead, Gam. Get to workin'."