And in possibly the first brief whiff of awkwardness thus far, Eridan simply stood in the corner as Eddie made his motions. Glanced over the flash drives, read the covers of the newspapers.

It was only when he glanced back to answer Eddie that he became aware of the revolver, and felt a sudden pang of longing for the weight of his magnum. He wasn't entirely sure if it was to defend himself from his pursuers — or from Eddie.

"Fixated as ever, I take it?" He dragged fingertips along the nearest surface, examined dust that wasn't there. "Not surprised. Not after what he did to you. Helped do, really, but I'm sure he gives himself plenty a credit."

He rolled purple tongue against dull human teeth, thoughtfully. What were his odds of survival if Eddie turned that revolver against him, for whatever reason? He couldn't use his ranged powers again without tipping off every government man within a hundred foot radius, and crawling off to a hospital oozing purple was not an option.

Bad odds.

"In fact, I know he does." The soft shuffle of a mostly empty pack of cigarettes. He let one hang out of his teeth, patting himself down fruitlessly for a lighter. "You're the one that got away, right? He must obsess."

A soft huff of laughter. Eridan glanced back over, making a gun motion towards the end of his cigarette. And fired.

"Got a light?"