ASGARD GENESIS - TEST DRIVE MEME #5

[asgardmods]

the test drive meme. ❧ let's do this. Anyone can post to the test drive meme, including duplicates! Please put your character name and canon in the title of your comment. All threads are considered open to everyone! Tag around and make some friends (or enemies)! If you decide to apply to the game, you can use your TDM threads for your app samples! You only need to provide seven comments if you use TDM samples. You can't really be late to a TDM! This will be considered open until the new one is posted. You can make up your own scenario, interact with one of the locations in the game, use the welcome process of your character waking up or selecting a god house, or use our optional prompt below! You do not need to pick a god house to play on the TDM! You can have your character still in the process of discussing/deciding/despairing instead. If you are accepted to the game, you can keep TDM threads as game canon as long as you fudge some of the details depending on your original thread. Remember that the optional events are not game canon, so references to it will have to be retconned. If you aren't sure exactly how to do this, you can always ask a mod. The game cap is currently at 55/100. Casts currently at/approaching the 8 character limit are: ASOIAF/GOT: 7/8 Devil May Cry: 5/8 Reserves open on November 24 at 12:01AM EST and close on November 30 at 11:59PM EST. Applications open on December 1 at 12:01AM EST and close on December 7 at 11:59PM EST. Please always feel free to contact the mods if you have any questions! Have fun, dear (future?) Wanderers. ♥ ❧ optional scenario. It's hot. Unbearably hot. It's like the very sun itself is somehow closer to Asgard as it looms large over the city, casting heat and light into every corner of every building. It's not necessarily humid and it's not extraordinarily dry either. It's just hot. It's a faint stinging on the skin, or a constant downpour of sweat, or the strange way even being indoors is still bright and warm. There's no respite from it anywhere, and after hours without any change, it honestly feels like you might melt. No, wait. You are melting. It starts slowly at first: a bead of perspiration left behind as you set something down, maybe. Then maybe everything feels a little slimy, like even the surface of objects and furniture are sweating. And then, when the sun is highest in the sky, you start melting into other things around you. This can be anything. Something you touch or someone you bump into on the streets, the chair you're sitting on or the towel you were using to cool off. Whatever it is you make contact with, you start melting into it. Think more along the lines of oozing and fusing together than dripping and falling apart. With enough strength and determination, you can separate yourself from your new attachment and your body will reform itself as normal. But it's pretty fucking gross in the meanwhile, and it is still very, very hot. navigation.

Comments

NPC TOP LEVEL

[asgardmods]

Please don't respond to this comment! :)

Kaworu Nagisa // Evangelion

[5thchild]

GENERAL

[ Death wasn’t something he thought too hard about.
The Lilin constantly thought of death, feared it and avoided it, tried to stay alive even thought being alive pained them. They’d be willing to live alone forever if that meant living. The Lilin had such a strong need to survive that Kaworu couldn’t tell if that was a weakness or a strength.

He, on the other hand, didn’t care. Living or dying, it was all the same to him, but it was also a fact that his death had been the ultimate freedom. No longer bounded to and by Adam and having saved Shinji (and consequently saved all Lilin and brought the extinction upon his own species), Kaworu Nagisa welcomed death. When EVA unit 01 crushed him – when Shinji crushed him – Kaworu thanked him one last time and the pain eventually faded. What would come next he’d never guess (but he didn’t think of it either).

He woke up.

After everything was explained to him, Kaworu felt something close to irritation, yet not as strong as a regular human would feel. He didn’t want to be there and he wanted to be dead, like he should be. There was no reason for him to be here, to be alive; for what, for whom? As he walks through the city, those questions seem to haunt him; he always knew what he was and his purpose and role.

But here? There was no such thing.

He stops, looking at his wrist for a second. Perhaps... Shinji was here too. Perhaps that's why he is here, that's why he is alive. Perhaps his destiny isn't fully completed yet. Without his powers, it's hard to tell. He can't locate Shinji like he normally would, nor he can look for him or Adam.

So Kaworu's next step is to do it the "Lilin way": ask about Shinji. He approaches the first person he finds, with a smile on his lips and hands inside his pockets ]

Hello. I'm looking for Ikari Shinji-kun. Can you direct me to him? [ just like that. ]


HOT

[ Kaworu is no strange to heat since his world is engulfed in permanent summer after the events that lead to the icecaps melting. However, as he spent most of his life inside a laboratory, he didn't have to experience heat all that often. Not for long periods of time, anyway. Without his powers, it's a bit more unbearable than expected and eventually he tries to move under a tree to find some shade and perhaps a cooling breeze.

But he was wrong. The heat is still there. And then something else happens.

When he touches the tree, he watches his hand slowly sinking? into it? With a stronger tug, he can pull himself away, but that doesn't make it any less surprising. And curiosity killed the cat, so he decides... to just do it again. Press his palm against the tree and watch it fused.

Angels can fuse with others. They can fuse with themselves, with Adam, with Lilin, with Evangelion... Fusing is something they desire as it's a hope to become whole, not to be lonely. Kaworu can't help to wonder how it'd feel like - to fuse and melt with another, body and soul to join as one. He can only imagine it as being very comfortable.

Not with a tree in particular, however.

And so he tugs his hand away again, this time he has to do so stronger than last. With some struggle, he manages to free himself, giving few steps away due to to the strength and the loss of balance.

That's when he nearly bumps into you. Or perhaps he actually does bump. ]

Crowley | Good Omens | I'll decide a God House eventually

[sparkofgoodness]

I. IN THE BEGINNING

Well isn't this familiar. No answers to all his questions, time is of the essence.

Essentially, do as you're told and make nice and -- and worse still? There isn't even a good restaurant here.

Just a pizza place, apparently. Nnngh.

Crowley had really only partly listened to everything he was told. He was uncomfortable with shackles, uncomfortable with being here, uncomfortable with a weird feeling he's getting which only intensifies. He'd been having a no-good-very-bad-day before he'd gotten here, and this isn't helping. Still, now nearly at the bottom of his bottle of Talisker he decides maybe he needs to get it together. Work out how to get out of... wherever this place is, in a universal sense.

Standing up, somewhat unsteadily, he tucks the book he has under his arm and spares the bottle a last glance before making a tired gesture.

Nothing happens.

He makes it again, then again, then a third time with growing intensity. The lack of reaction causes a rush of adrenaline that does, at least, momentarily make him more able to focus. This... is a problem.

First, apparently he's been completely cut off from his power. Secondly, he can't summon any more Talisker. Thirdly, he is now utterly wasted and unable to do anything about it.

Crowley gives a dramatic groan, as if the whole situation physically pains him and staggers to lean against a wall for a second as he thinks. What is the point in all of this?

"You have got to be kidding me," he manages, and makes a last weak attempt at encouraging the Talisker to refill. Nothing happens.

He's probably holding the last bottle of Talisker he'll have for a while, and that's a truly awful thought. Maybe he should have paid more attention after all.


II. LIBRA. 24 SEPTEMBER-23 OCTOBER. AVOID UNNECESSARY RISKS.

Trying to focus enough to understand what is apparently... a bunch of people who think they are Norse gods, while still a bit drunk, is...

Awful. It's awful.

Crowley has the impression, though, that he needs to make some sort of... pact with one of them to get any of his powers back. Which, well, isn't that shady and familiar? Oh sure, just toe the line and --

This thought process is getting him nowhere.

All he needs to do, he thinks, is work out which one sounds the least like a dick.

... The problem is, well, they all do a bit.

"Skadi," Crowley mutters, "I haven't even heard of Skadi. That one of the original ones?"

He really lost track, with how often humans changed their mind on all this stuff. Aziraphale would know who they were. Aziraphale would know which one he should be associating with.

Aziraphale isn't here. Aziraphale might not be anywhere anymore.

Bury that thought.

"Hey," he yells, and waves down the first human-ish looking creature he can see, "you! Yeah, you. How much do you know about this place?"


III. WELL, THERMONUCLEAR EXTINCTION HAS ALWAYS BEEN VERY POPULAR.

It's hot.

Crowley has been hot before, very recently. The difference is, when Crowley was hot while being in a fire he could just ignore it. Came with being a demon, especially a demon that possess as strong an imagination as Crowley does.

He can't do that anymore.

So Crowley, still a little drunk, is now also too hot and this is the absolute worst day of his life. No competition. Absolute worst.

Is he dying? Maybe he's dying. He's never been this hot before, but he's also never been cut off from his powers before. Is this a fever? Humans get fevers, right? Is he dying of a fever? How hot can the human body get?

The demon Crowley, encourager of sin, designer of the M25, gluer of coins to pavements and winner of several undeserved commendations staggers pathetically in search of the nearest source of water and -- unable to make it, so drunk weak as he is... collapses onto a patch of grass.

"'m melting," he mumbles, and at this point it's just an exaggeration... but it might not be in a few minutes.


IV. BUGGRE ALLE THIS FOR A LARKE I AMME SICK TO MYE HART OF TYPEFETTINGE

[ Wildcard?!

If you hate prose, use brackets instead and I will match. ]

Eridan Ampora | Homestuck

[nautically_themed]

==> Be dead

[ Your name is Eridan Ampora, you are a sea dweller troll, and you have no idea what the ever living fuck just happened. Where are you now?

It takes only a second to remember that oh right, you got chainsawed in two by an angry friend... ex-friend? Did you ever have those? You might have had one at some point before you decided to flip your shit like the Shit and you were divorcing and then you killed her. Holy moobeast, you killed Fef. And blinded Sollux. And destroyed the Matriorb. And also almost killed Kanaya, except she bounced back somehow and..., yeah you definitely deserve being dead, you absolute feral child.

Except you are not.

Or that's what the human Goddesses say. You really don't listen properly, too busy freaking out and absconding out of the palace as soon as they turn their gaze away for a second. The scarf around your neck helps with the cold but you're missing your cape like crazy the moment you step out without looking, like the idiot you are, and the sunrays hit your eyes. Oh jegus, it's daylight.

The shriek of terror you let out as you cover your face and sink to the floor to hide it against your knees is rather undignified. Your brain doesn't even register that the sun here doesn't burn like the one in Alternia, you are just glad that no one's around to see you be colossally stupid.

Or are they?]

==> Don't be dead

[ You are apparently already doing that, even if you aren't sure how. Now that you have found some shade under a huge tree on a park, you take a moment to bask in that miracle, letting out a heartfelt: ]

Holy fuckin' shit, wwhy.

[ Maybe if you had properly listened to the humans you would have a better idea of what is going on. Hah, as if. They started to talk about magic bullshit and you know oh-so-very well that magic does not exist. The bracelets around your wrists are bounded to you by some sort of advanced tech, that must be it. Science.

You spend the next 15 minutes trying to pry them off, going as far as tearing at the skin of your wrist with your very sharp claws during the attempt. Your hands and the grassy ground are stained with your bright purple blood and you give up. It's kind of your specialty to give up on things. Or rather, a curse. But fussing with the bracelets does nothing and it hurts instead, lighter purple tears appear in the corners of your eyes more out of frustration than anything so you stop before you start wailing like a newborn wiggler. You're still bleeding but you can't find it in yourself to care. You deserve all the misery you cause to yourself, self-destruction has always been a scarily natural skill of yours.

When you get tired of drowning on self-pity, you notice that your stomach also hurts, like a faint but constant cramp.

You lift your sweater to check the weird feeling and there’s a thick seam of almost white scar tissue circling your whole torso. A cramp is much better than having your upper body unattached to the lower half, but the view makes you cringe all the same. ]

==> Interact with indigenous subspecies (Sigyn's Farmland)

[ Sea dwellers trolls are coldblooded and most creatures outside the sea are not, so you're not entirely surprised when the cluckbeast pecks at your fingers after you try to pet it. You keep your hands to yourself, frowning at the stupid chicken. There's a lot of them around, along with moobeasts, but this one animal was alone and it had looked lonely to you.]

Fine, be that way. You filthy ball of feath...oh.

[ The cluckbeast is now in your lap. It apparently has decided that you must be cold, so it's trying to fix that. You're very okay with the new and unexpected development. After a little while, and very slowly because you like all your fingers, you raise a hand to caress the chicken's back. It makes a soft, happy trill sound. Some part of you that you had long forgotten feels...at ease. Relaxed. Before you realize it, you chirr back at the chicken.

Your eyes go big behind your square glasses. It's been a long time since you've heard yourself make that sound. It's almost as if life wasn't totally awful. ]

==> Give people options

[ Aka, wildcard. Feel free to hit up this fishy kid if you want to play out anything specific! ]

[ ooc: Replies will come in normal third person and without his typing quirk but this style just felt appropriate for the intro C: ]

==> Be dead

[folkscallmewander]

[A small orange creature jumps at the screaming and rushes over to the alien that has apparently doubled over in pain. Is it a child? An adult? No matter, Wander is worried and Eridan needs help!]

Are you okay?! [He practically flings himself onto Eridan's back, not that he weights much. It's like a cat clinging onto his back, minus the claws.] Do you need to see a doctor? [he turns back to yell into the building.] Anyone here got medicine?!

General

[momsboy]

Uh... [ The person Kaworu is trying to talk to is actually carrying a crate full of metal pieces and it takes Peter a second to realize someone's speaking to him.

He doesn't have a full view of what's in front of him due to the crate and has been using his familiar Sandy, who's by his feet in the shape of a corgi, as a guide. He maneuvers the box to the side, looking at the newcomer. ]

Sorry, who?

[nautically_themed]

[ A crap, it would be just his luck that someone was around to see. Eridan is six solar sweeps, which is the human equivalent of 13 years old, so Wander isn't throwing himself against a very big body. Trolls high on the blood spectrum like him are stronger than humans, however, and he's pushing the orange creature away from him in a fit of anger. ]

Don't touch me! [ He snaps, baring shark-like teeth at the stranger, body jerking and trying to pull away. All the concern Wander is showing is sadly lost on Eridan because when the troll looks up and the sun hits his face again, he starts cursing like a sailor. It takes him a second to realize he's not actually going blind and the surprise is enough to get him to stop yelling. ]...Uh? W-what?

[folkscallmewander]

[Wander touches Eridan again. Or rather, he holds into his pant leg in case he needs to be guided indoors. If he was actually afraid of Eridan, he has not shown any sign of it. He's been threatened with worse.]

You need to get inside and lie down. Who knows what'll happen if you run off.

[With his little strength, Wander attempts to drag him inside. Maybe his bad attitude will lift once he's got a few painkillers in him.]

II

[demonicbeauty]

It was always Ariadne's favorite time, when the new people arrived. She knew, deep down, that that was somewhat selfish. They had homes and families and lives they were being taken from. But at the same time...well. She just liked meeting new people. They also had stories and legends and interesting new words for her to learn. And now that she could properly control her Human form--more or less--she was getting a bit more sociable, getting out there and meeting as many as she could.

So when the lanky man called out to her, she was actually quite delighted, in her little, bird-like sort of way.

Ariadne trotted over. She had a bit of a funny posture for a Human. Half of the time, her arms were out to either side, fingers splayed, like she was about to spread wings and take off at any moment. And she was so petite, it was almost a reasonable assumption.

Also, she used to have wings. But that was another matter.

"Hello," she said in a chirpy, pleasant voice. Slightly girlish, belying her age. She gave him a quick curtsy. "Are you trying to figure out something in particular, sir?"

[sparkofgoodness]

Someone's cheerful.

Crowley squints through his sunglasses at the girl who has run up to him, trying to decide if she looks like a useful source of information. After a long few seconds he has to admit two things:

One, he has no idea what a useful source of information looks like in this context.
Two, he has no better option and he needs to ask someone.

"Yeah," Crowley says absently. "Listen, bit new to the area. Not really..."

He gestures, in a vague and slightly unsteady way which clears up absolutely nothing.

"Anyway," he continues, although what point he is continuing is still a mystery. "Houses. I have to pick a house, apparently. Not a physical house, a..."

He's forgotten the word.

[nautically_themed]

[ Why is this weird creature still touching him??? Eridan is shaking his leg something fierce, trying to dislodge Wanderer but it doesn't look like he's being very successful. Determined little man.]

You need to let me fuckin' go before I rip your arms off! [ There's definitely a growl in his voice, even if Eridan's accent makes the thread sounds rather odd. There's a shimmer of violet in the gold eyes and the fins on each side of his face are flaring in response of the perceived threat before they flatten against his jaw. Eridan can feel his skin drying by the second and he doesn't look forward staying under the sun any longer. ]

Fine! But just so we get out of the searing heat.

II. you're going to be fine

[benedicus]

The assumption is correct. Aziraphale does have a considerable knowledge about Norse mythology, although a bit moreso now since he's taken to refreshing himself on it. It had just been one of those things that he hadn't really thought about in years. There had been much more pressing and interesting things than pantheons that no one recognised outside of a good story or, well, a bad one. Now? He had way more free time on his hands than he had any idea what to do with.

And a lack of the ability to properly enjoy it.

If he were in a more pleasant mood, he would think to answer the question about Skadi at great length. Actually, he still might at a later point, but the larger concern at this exact moment was that Crowley was here. It's been a considerable time since he had last seen hair or hide of him. It was almost as if he had vanished and there was a certain anxiety at the thought of being here without him entirely.

Everything else was already hard enough. He wasn't eager to deal with it alone.

"Is this where you've been?" The words are friendly, but the tone is a little sharp. What is he doing? Better yet, what is he even talking about? How much do you know about this place, he had asked. Was that a real question or in jest? He's had more than enough time to have a decent understanding of where they are.

It clicks together immediately as he approaches him. It's the smell that hits him first.

He had been drinking! And without him! That was just rude.

"Oh, you're drunk," he says as he looks over him, trying to get a gauge on just how bad the situation is. He needed to know if he was going to have to help Crowley walk and also exactly how irritated he aught to be with him.

[sparkofgoodness]

This blurry person sounds a lot like Aziraphale.

Crowley squints over his sunglasses, narrows snakey eyes and tries to process the right response.

He decides, on the whole, he might be too drunk for this.

"Am I hallucinating?" he mumbles, and waves a hand in front of himself as if to check. There are fingers on the hand. He thinks there are probably the right amount. "Can't sober up," he admits, "no..."

There's a vague, sweeping gesture that's meant to indicate everything Crowley can't do -- which is, in fact, everything he normally can. It is, in Crowley's mind, a very descriptive gesture. It most looks like an unsteady flail.

[demonicbeauty]

"Patron?" she supplied. "We all have one." She held up her bracelet, indicating the green jewel in the center, the mark of Sigyn. As much as she liked Sigyn, she actually couldn't stand the bracelet. Mostly the fact that it never came off. She wasn't exactly used to wearing jewelry and it was uncomfortable. Especially when she was trying to go to sleep at night.

Maybe it was her imagination, but she swore it sometimes felt warmer than gold was supposed to feel.

She tossed her long, ropelike braid over her shoulder. It swung well below her hips. "I hope you're not asking me for advice in picking," she said. "From what I understand, it has to do with feeling a connection to a certain god."

[folkscallmewander]

[Wander tries not to grin, but that smile is him straining from giving Eridan a toothy approval. He lets go and bounces on his feet.]

How 'bout a glass of water? You'll like down, take a nap, and I'll find some better clothes for you. [How? He'll think of something. Hopefully Eridan will be asleep for a few hours while Wander looks for anything that fits Eridan and doesn't cost a lot.] I'm sure you'll feel a lot better after!

[And then he shuts the door once they're both inside.]

You must come from a pretty cold planet, huh.

[sparkofgoodness]

A connection. To one of these... supposed gods.

"Nnngh," Crowley manages, a vague sound of discontent. "Not really feeling a connection."

To any of them. He's a blessed demon, he's already been kicked out of the god club once for asking questions, and then he tried to cut all association with the group that left him with. Picking another so-called deity just doesn't seem... appealing, in any sense. Even if he had a connection. Which he doesn't. Because he's a demon, thank you.

[demonicbeauty]

She shrugged. "Maybe you just haven't met the right one yet?" It wasn't the sort of thing you wanted to rush into. Of course, Ariadne had rushed headlong into Sigyn's arms. But that had felt more like a survival instinct.

Ultimately, she'd made the right choice.

But that was just luck. Which she did believe in, for all of her ability to predict probabilities. Sometimes, things just worked.

"I'm afraid it's a bit of a mysterious process," she said. "But also a necessary one. Something about how you can get hurt if you don't anchor yourself to the magic of this world?" She shrugged. "I'm sorry. I don't claim to be an expert, my lord."

[benedicus]

"No. Not at the moment anyway," comes the easy answer. Shouldn't be any reason for him to and if he had drunken enough for that to be a symptom, then he's sure they would be having an extremely different conversation. More whimsical, for sure.

He offers Crowley a somewhat, although barely, sympathetic nod. This is his own fault. Aziraphale does feel a little for him because this is going to go rather south for him soon enough, but again, it's his own fault. It definitely also served him right for having the nerve to be drinking without him. There was already so little alcohol as it is!

He gestures towards Crowley, finger twirling just a bit. "This is all very real. Unfortunately. As is the fact you're going to have to just sober up the old fashioned way."

[sparkofgoodness]

"Mysterious process," Crowley mumbles under his breath, with the air of someone who does not at all believe in such a thing. "Right. Yeah. Of course."

Why would anyone ever explain that sort of thing?

"No option to just take off the cuffs, then?" he adds, since Crowley is solidly assuming the stupid things attached to his wrist are what is blocking his powers. Classic tactic, that. Dirty one, too, catching him while he was drunk.

[demonicbeauty]

"I suppose you could cut your hand off," she said. Her tone was cheerful, but she gave him a slight side-eye, to make it clear she wasn't serious. Ariadne wasn't...the best when it came to Human humor, but she knew a little bit. They relied very heavily on sarcasm. She'd noticed that much, over the years. Not her favorite, but she could figure it out. Most of the time.

Okay...half of the time.

Maybe a quarter...

"Don't...cut your hand off," she said, gritting her teeth a bit. Better to hedge her bets, she supposed.

[sparkofgoodness]

Not hallucinating.

"Right," Crowley says, in an absent sort of way that says he's only half listening.

He's... not hallucinating. Not... hallucinating? Which means Aziraphale is... here? Is...

He's too drunk to really put this all together.

"Said I've got to pick a... whatsit. A clubouse. To get it back."

The thing he can't do. The magic. If Aziraphale's really here, did he pick one? Crowley wonders if he can just... pick the same one. Can you do that? Because he doesn't --

He doesn't want to be on different sides. Are they different sides? Are they... the same side, but... bits of it? What's it called. Regiments?

[benedicus]

What?

No, no, no. He must be joking. Is this supposed to be at his expense? These things have already been done, long since decided. Crowley had already picked or gotten stuck with one of these so-called gods—he wasn't really sure how it came about, but he was pretty sure that the decision had been made for him just as it had been for Aziraphale. He knows they discussed it, but he doesn't fully remember the details of it anymore. It had been a rather tiring first couple of days.

"Crowley—" he starts, but immediately changes his mind and decides that he'll put an end to this charade immediately. He's not in the mood for this. Reaching out, he clasps his fingers around Crowley's wrist and lifts it so that he might see the colour of the gemstone on one of his bracelets.

Or lack thereof, apparently.

It's colourless. It's colourless? Why was it colourless? Was that supposed to happen? There's an immediate sinking feeling in his stomach. He knows something must be wrong now. Must be, must be, must be. He had been so annoyed thinking that Crowley had gone off on his own, but had he really? He's suddenly a lot less sure.

"Oh," he says, the worry evident in his voice. He's not sure what to say anymore. He's still holding one of Crowley's wrists in his hand, but the grip has loosened enough that even a slight breeze could break this point of contact between them.

"Do you not remember being here before?"

[sparkofgoodness]

"Uh," Crowley says, who isn't really feeling especially in the mood to pull his hand back, "no, sorry, I..."

His eyes drop for a second to where his wrist is being held, and not hallucinating forms a new meaning in his head. Aziraphale is here? Aziraphale... is really here. How? Why? He... he thought...

"Bit of a long day," he expands, as if that might explain things. Then, with a nagging sense of confusion: "How long have you been here?"

Since something feels... off. Something is off, something... doesn't add up here. It niggles, like... a niggly thing. Doesn't quite add up. Azirapahale normally did take things in his stride, with a sort of stubborn refusal to do anything else but carry on, but this is... different.

[sparkofgoodness]

Cut off his hand? Nngh. Crowley glances down at his wrists and makes a vague, noncommittal sound.

"Bad idea," he agrees, "can't do anything about it without..." He makes a vague gesture that encompasses, in his mind, all the things he can't do. Quite a lot of those. "And," he adds, "there is no way I am getting assigned a new body after all of this."

Which is... worrying. The worry niggles at him through the drunkenness. Not having any powers and being stuck in this place without the possibility of just dying and being assigned a new body is... worry.

[nautically_themed]

[ He's really not used to people smiling at him, this is so weird. But it makes Eridan pause and even though he still sounds annoyed, there is less intensity behind the words. ]

The day I let you touch my clothes is the day I decide to pluck out my glance nuggets with my own claws because clearly I would have lost any ounce of common sense. And I don't need a nap. [ That isn't 100% true because troll are nocturnals and he can't remember the last time he actually slept. Maybe being dead counted? Eridan isn't saying no to the water, though, because he feels rather parched. But admitting that would feel like showing weakness. ]

Stop acting like a Lusus. [ His guardian is dead and he quite misses him, so Eridan doesn't want any reminders about his quasi-paternal figure. And yet, he eyes Wanderer as the orange man closes the door behind them. Inside the palace isn't all that much cooler than outside, this place feels like hell. ] Or is that what you are? I've never met a Lusus who could talk so eloquently and weren't white. I come from Alternia, and actually the sun's as smoldering hot as a firecracker so we only go outside once it's nighttime.