capeandcowl2020 | Open Post 001

Doomsday devices, actually. But I'll forgive the misconception, nobody's perfect.

[a long moment. this tea literally cannot get done slowly enough. his fake City accept is crisp as ever.]

Besides, I ain't exactly well-behaved enough to be arm candy material.

You can lose the accent, Eridan. It sounds idiotic. [ a beat ] Well, more so than you normally do.

[ she debates standing and going to see what exactly is taking so long, finally sitting up on the couch. there's a wry smile at his latter comment though. ]

At least you are aware of what exactly your role is between us. With enough training, you could accomplish "arm candy" admirably.

[deciding that the tea is as done as it's ever going to get, he pours the mess into a kettle and - feeling generous - grabs a cup for her. then, feeling particularly vindictive tonight, he grabs a bottle of something fine and expensive from his liquor stash on the way out.]

Dashinly handsome as I am, I don't figure your lot want a waiter in their midst.

[he sets everything on the small coffee table, but makes no effort to make her glass for her.]

Secret royalty, astronomically kickin' the ass a all your assorted lineages - that's soap opera shit. Last I heard, you like your fiction more...

[he uncaps the bottle and takes a long swig.]

...purple.

[ she finally sits up all the way when he returns into to the room, only for her eyes to narrow at the sight of the bottle in his hand. he was doing it to spite her. doing it passive aggressively to make her angry.

(and it was working.)

the sight of anger lasts only for barely a moment though before it returns to coolness and she reaches out to pour herself some tea. ]

Congratulations, you remember. But exaggeration doesn't flatter your person, Eridan, and royalty isn't much of royalty when they are attempting to pathetically scrape together a living.

[ a beat ]

Do you plan to drink yourself into a drunkard mess?

Sure am.

[he smirks at her over the lip of the bottle. the royalty comments sting, of course, but he's long since managed to stop being so sensitive about it. or just so quick to defend his own honor.]

Some a us hawe to actually work for a liwin', after all. You know, real effort rather'n scrawlin' up some flowery as fuck wizard porn, pickin' at peoples' quadrant issues, and callin' it an ewenin'.

[ she takes a delicate sip from her tea, eyes cold over the edge of the cup, watching him. she's quiet for a moment before murmuring: ]

I'm sorry, Eridan. I can't quite hear you over your indignation of being a know-nothing failure who is worth nothing more than the leaves of my tea.

[ Rose hums a little, the next part: ]

My job is certainly more than just skimming Wikipedia articles and writing a little blurb. But I don't expect you to understand.

[his teeth click on the lip of the bottle.]

You say the sweetest things.

[his glare is downright venomous, though his tone is even.]

What's it like, knowin' you got nobody left? The both a us know real well how much you get to glubbin' with those old friends a yours. The human ones from our uniwerse.

Normally I'd say it must of been real painful cuttin' ties with 'em like you did, but we both know you're a hardhearted bitch if there ewer was one.

[ her eyes flash dangerous and her grip on the teacup handle tightens. again, she goes silent for a moment, trying to regain her composure. they're not sensitive buttons, but enough to make her angry.

he wasn't wrong, but she hadn't cut ties with them completely. at least, in a sense. she still kept an eye on them, but that was her role to. ]

You should really just learn to be seen and not heard.

And let you get all the benefits a my pretty face without the drawbacks a my pretty mouth?

[he scoffs, momentarily complacent in his (imagined) victory.]

Hardly. You like it anyway.

You're deluding yourself on both of those matters, if you think that, Eridan. [ she's narrowing her eyes and drinking some more of her tea ]

I would prefer your "pretty mouth" if you actually proved yourself to be a competent rhetoric competitor. Or at least, someone who isn't a complete idiot.

[ she moves her gaze away, as if she couldn't be bothered to look at him ]

It's disappointing, really.

But you don't hate anybody else like you hate me. [he leans forward, basically chinhandsing!!] I'm practically ewerythin' you can't fuckin' stand in a person.

[a beat. he shrugs, airily.]

And I know all a those things you hope for. What to pick at, whenewer I feel suchlike inclinations. That sorta thing.

It's like hawin' your job, but bein' ten times better at it.

[ and she's putting down her teacup with a loud clatter, looking at him again. almost glaring at him. ]

You tried that once, when we were children. Don't you remember, Eridan? [ her voice is sickly sweet. ] You may know these things about me, but I would hope that you're not stupid enough to attempt anything with it.

[he doesn't like flitting back and forth between forms - it's unwieldy, cumbersome, and dangerous. but he makes exceptions sometimes.

only for Rose.]

No, I like what we got here. Right now. It's kinda excitin', bein' in kismesis in the kinda place they'd kill you for that sorta thing. All... 1984. I like it.

[he removes his contacts carefully, setting them on the table, putting his bottle beside them. he's troll now, taller, broader, and his irises are a deep, adult purple, and he smirks at her - it's shitty and smug and entirely on purpose.]

And neither a us can afford spillin' blood like we used to. Me in a more literal kinda sense, it bein' kickass and purple and all, but someone... oh, blows you up or somethin' akin, you come back.

All a that work, all a that buildin' yourself up, all a those braggin' rights - right down the drain.

[ Rose doesn't falter when he transforms back. she's used to it, watching his hair go from blonde to black, the horns emerging. she's completely motionless, the only reaction from her being the narrowing of her eyes and the stiffening of her back.

she considers rejecting the concept of them possibly being "kismesis", but if they weren't in some sort of relationship, would she really be here? ]

Eridan, you're embarrassing me. [ she manages after a moment, fluttering a hand ] You should really keep your romantic sentiments to yourself; I might start getting the wrong idea. [ but she continues ]

Dying means nothing when it scarcely exists to someone. But you wouldn't know what it's like to survive, would you?

Ten years, in this kinda enwironment? [he gestures widely.] I think that's pretty good for a genocidal maniac.

[he steeples his fingers on the coffee table between them, thoughtful, still smirking. not outright denying his kismesis comment is, to him, as good as if she had just agreed. for a moment he feels thirteen and giddy. and, thirteen and giddy, his thoughts naturally turn dark.]

But you - you're kinda fucked, ain't you? All immortal and shit. Too much of a good thing, once the rest a us mortal folk you associate with die off and all.

Hey, maybe you're gonna be around for the heat death a the uniwerse. Fingers crossed.

[ she hates that smirk. that shit-eating smirk. she wants to tear it off his face, fill the recesses with her Horrorterrors and watch him choke on their nightmares.

but for now, she just rolls her eyes, lounging back on the couch again, practically laying on it as if it is her throne. ]

And suddenly I am filled with excitement at the possibility of certain mortal folk falling off the face of the Earth and the rest of my days only holding silence for me.

[ she takes a breath and then: ]

You can stop this, Eridan.

And rob you a the chance to hurt my feelins?

[he scoffs, though he relaxes back into his seat. nonthreatening posture.]

Unthinkable.

[ after a moment, Rose finally stands. but instead of leaving, she walks past the table, brushing her hand against the bottle of alcohol and knocking it over, spilling the contents.

she then stops right before him before climbing onto his lap, seating herself there comfortably, one hand resting on his shoulder and the other moving to one of his wicked sharp horns. ]

And you are one step closer to admitting that you take masochistic pleasure out of this, Eridan. Is it really the supposed caliginous feelings that arise whenever I'm near you, or the fact that you take great pleasure when someone puts you in the place? Reminds you of who and what you are?

[ she leans close, tone dropping: ]

It's not royalty, by the way.

[ and then she straightens, running her hand along his horn ]

You're almost more pathetic than Equius.

[to his credit, Eridan almost manages to control his expression as she sits down. mostly by focusing on how irritated he is at that good liquor going to waste. his mouth twitches at the hand on his horn.

and then she speaks, and he burns purple. he swallows, unintentionally, and doesn't meet her eyes.]

You're really projectin' here, Rose.

[his hands set, lightly, on her knees. his nails press until he knows there's blood.]

It's kinda sad.

[ her breath hitches when his nails dig into her knees, the pain tolerable, but not enough for her to keep from reacting. she can feel the warm liquid trickling down her bare legs, the hand on his horn gripping tightly now, running her nails along its curve. ]

Hmm.

[ she brushes her other hand along his neck, tracing her fingers along the skin almost lazily, keeping her composure as best as she can ]

A needy, desperate, fallen from grace angel that no one takes seriously. Reaching too hard to be the supervillain that you know is beyond your grasp. You really are your father's son, aren't you?

[his eyes meet hers, wide in shock - and then burn. growling low in his throat, Eridan fists the front of her shirt and drags Rose down to his level; forehead to forehead, not mindful enough to keep their heads from knocking together in the process, and he snarls against her mouth.]

You're such a bitch.

[his free hand slides up her leg nonetheless.]

Maybe you weren't just projectin' after all.

[of course he knows why he keeps her around, or why he hopes she keeps him around. why he's just rude enough, but never unforgivably so. why he gave her a key.

it's because some part of him likes this, and because apart from the occasional drop-in by Quentin, she's really all he has.]

[ the reaction wasn't unexpected -- in fact, she had planned for this. everything she says, every button she pokes, carefully thought out like a puppet master playing. she doesn't mind when he grabs her or when he knocks his head against hers, even hums a little when he presses his mouth to hers. Rose even hums a little, mockingly ]

On the couch, Eridan? How uncouth.

[ when his leg moves against her leg, she kisses him, tenderly and softly, lacking all of the violence and hate that their relationship consists of, simply because she knows how much it riles him up. she nips at his lips before pulling back, murmuring softly: ]

How often do you think about him?

You don't think I'm a prince. Why should I hawe to act like one?

[and then she's kissing him, and it's entirely lacking - like all the little pecks in public, picture perfect, positively revolting. she knows it. she knows how much he hates it. she pulls back, and he glares up at her.]

You wanna talk about him right now?

[ she brushes her lips against the corner of his mouth with an amused: ]

"It is not titles that honor men, but men that honor titles." [ and then sliding her hand along his horn just to tease him. she doesn't mind, actually, playing this game. it's fun for her, like someone playing solitaire to kill time. ]

I wouldn't bring him up if I didn't, Eridan. Answer the question. Do you stay up late at night, thinking about him?

[momentarily put off, his head thumps against the back of the couch or whatever he's sitting on leave me alone.]

He's my father. Was. Whatewer. Or at least close enough to suffice for it. He treated me well, for as much of a little shit I used to be. And he probably went out horrible.

[his eyes slide closed, tired.]

What do you think?

Open Post 001

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