(Untitled)

[swwag]

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

Comments

[hasgonehonkers]

"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.

NAT THE UPDATE

[swwag]

"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.

STILL SCREAMING

[hasgonehonkers]

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.

MALKDLFAJ CLAWS FACE FOREVER

[swwag]

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."

TOO MUCH TO HANDLE

[hasgonehonkers]

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."

[swwag]

"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."

[hasgonehonkers]

"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.

[swwag]

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.

[hasgonehonkers]

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.

[swwag]

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.

[hasgonehonkers]

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.

[swwag]

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.

[hasgonehonkers]

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.

[swwag]

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.

[hasgonehonkers]

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?"

[swwag]

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."