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Eridan has been talking your ear off for weeks about the Bi-Lunar Sweep FLARP Banquet. What he wants to wear, what he's hoping is on the menu for this event, who's going to be there. You're half sick of hearing about it, half amazed it's kept his attention this long.
"Kar, they're goin' to give me an award ."
You roll your eyes and lean back in your chair. He can't see you, it's just a voice call because you're a paranoid fucker, but he can hear it squeak. He's been to your hive enough times by now to know that's what's happening.
"Uh-huh, I know. You're fucking thrilled about it. You're going to have a whole room of people looking at you, that's living the dream for you, right?" You pause purposefully, "Well, you and Vriska."
"Ugh, don't remind me."
And you don't need to see a video feed to know the way he pinches the bridge of his nose as if he's some sort of east-Alternian animation villain. You wish you could, just for poking-fun reasons, but you value your safety too much to risk a video feed in your hive. As much as Sollux has assured you he's got your hive blacked out from any scanners and drones, you don't want to take any chances.
"Like, don't get me wrong, I like winnin'-"
"Oh I know," You interrupt, but it doesn't even phase him. He's so used to you, and so eager to hear his own voice, that he just keeps going.
"But why couldn't have it been Vris who took the season off instead of 'Rezi? We could still hand over the needed spoils- It's not like there's any need for Terezi to bring 'em home." You hear him get up and start fussing at some papers. Maps, books, you don't know, but he's definitely fidgeting while he rants.
"As long as I get my half t'lighten the load with Fef, it's not a big deal. She doesn't want any excuse to have to work with me longer than necessary, an' I'd rather not spend my weekends haulin' sky whales." He sighs, and with a whump , returns to his desk chair, likely mirroring you at your own computer.
"It just kinda sucks that my options are so limited. Nep only FLARPS when Eq is feelin' it, which was rare to begin with. Team Charge is outa commission for weeks at a time. Rez has all that law shit goin' on now..." He trails off, and you pull up the movie website you frequent when Eridan watches things on call with you. You're pretty sure you know how this is going to go.
"Law shit- you mean her future? Preparing for her life next sweep when they come snatch everyone up? I think that might take some fucking precedence over FLARP, yeah." You try for tactful, but he is being a little pouty over a game. It's a game that trolls regularly die in, but like, it's still a fucking game he doesn't have to play.
"Vriska is the best person for you to team up with anyways, because anyone else is probably not going to be as understanding about the whole 'oh I need the bodies' thing. Like fuck, dude, Vriska hardly gets Terezi to turn a blind eye- fuck, haha," You can't help yourself, the pun was unintentional, but now you're snickering in the middle of trying to impart your wisdom on Eridan Fucking Ampora, sea troll so dense he just sinks.
To your credit, he does snort out a little laugh too.
There's a lull for a moment, and you consider just offering to watch something with him, instead of telling him 'yeah it sucks we all have to grow up', but he picks up the conversation instead.
"Vris is bringin' Rezi with her, y'know?"
He hasn't already complained about this, which is odd. You know they're insufferable amounts of trouble together, and they undoubtedly will be at his stupid banquet too. Lawful trouble, but trouble none the less.
Eridan will likely get himself into a little trouble too, but hopefully not anything worse than flirting with the wrong troll and getting his hand stabbed or something. He's a little stupid when it comes to strangers and flirting, and you worry about him sometimes, but he can't top Vriska and Terezi levels of contained chaos. He just, isn't someone who knows how to talk his way around laws if he gets caught...
"As like, a plus one?" You assume so, they're a messy diamond after all.
"Yeah, just like that." He pauses, and that's weird. Why is he hesitating so much? He always runs face first into whatever problem he's having, usually without any kind of thought first. It's something you've been trying to work on with him- the whole 'actions have consequences' thing. He only ever seems to half-grasp it.
"I was wonderin', if maybe.... an' you can tell me to fuck off or whatever, I won't be mad-" You can practically hear the hand wringing he's doing, he's so clearly nervous. "If maybe you'd wanna be my plus one? Would you go with me?"
Oh. Shit.
"Uhhh," your thinkpan is going a mile a minute, but no words are coming out. "Fuck. Give me a second. I gotta think."
Shit. Fuck. God damn it.
Your first concern is that there is going to be a fuckton of people there. Well, you don't know that, but Eridan talks like there might be. You have no idea how much he's talking out his ass though. Will those trolls glance over you, or will they know right away you're off spectrum?
Your second concern, is one you held originally but felt a little powerless over- Does Eridan need someone to watch his back? Vriska doesn't watch him, she encourages him. So if there's trouble, normally both of them would be in it and you trust Eridan to at least not die if Vriska is an ally. But Terezi would be keeping Vriska mostly out of life-threatening trouble, you assume. Instead of murder, she'd do more harmless pranks. No one else will be there telling Eridan not to do murder.
You've told him not to do murder in the past and he's listened- but if you're not there and shit gets horribly out of hand.... you are not convinced Eridan will not do a murder.
So you want to go make sure he stays out of trouble, but you're scared it will put you in danger.
"What if." You stop and start again, careful with your words. You want to understand the risk. "If I go, and someone figures me out. About, you know... What would happen?"
"Uh." He frowns, you can hear it in his voice as he considers the possibility, taking into consideration how much of a danger it is to even talk about it at all. "Well a lot of Flarpers are more interested in drama than anythin', um, like that . There might be a few who'd get upset, but it's a big IF on if they'd even notice."
"Would they call the drones? Attack me?"
"I don't think they'd call the drones- drones are a good way to ruin a nice party. And that'd make them really unpopular." He's right, most trolls don't trust the drones. Some blueblood's, and really high caste trolls might, but most Flarpers aren't above blue. Eridan has told you before, he's one of only three seadweller's in the entire league. And this is a group that cares about reputations, so ruining a party isn't something they'd want to be known for.
"But would someone there attack me?" You still don't trust other trolls like that.
"They'd have to get through me first, Kar."
The way he says it is so matter-o-fact, zero hesitation. So point blank 'duh, of course' in his tone... You're too busy hiding in your own hands to respond quickly, your cheeks hot against your palms.
He already assumed he'd be protecting you as part of asking you to come with him.
Your pusher is doing wild things in your chest and you only barely resist the urge to tell him he's not allowed to be that charming.
"Eridan..." You want to say yes. You do want to go, both to keep him out of trouble and as an excuse to leave your hive. And. You might be very curious to go to a party of any kind. Even a stupid dress up fantasy roleplay party. It's still a banquet, technically, but like, it's also an implied party.
Which leads you to your third concern.
"What the fuck would I even wear?"
You don't need to see a video feed of him to know the look on his face, and the way he folds his hands on his desk, grin absolutely devious.
"Well, I have some ideas."
Oh fuck, you just asked a Cosplayer to dress you up, didn't you?
With one week before the Flarp Bi-Lunar Sweep Banquet, Eridan begins to assemble you an outfit. He gets you to measure yourself a bunch of different places, which leads you to believe his ominous 'leave it to me' assurances imply he's making you something himself. Or at least, purchasing you things made to fit that likely cost more than your entire hive.
For himself, though, you get a closet tour as he picks out potential things to wear, schooling you on what's acceptable the entire time.
Your video feed stays off, but he carries his husktop with him into his massive dressing area- somewhere he'd not shown you the one time you'd visited his hive in the past.
He's stupid rich and it pisses you off every time you're reminded, but the way he sends you little gifts and surprises in the mail does ease how heated you get on the issue.
Unfortunately, his dressing room is a big reminder of the funds he has no other uses for.
"So are you wearing a dress, or what?" You ask and he scoffs at you, like you should know better. What the fuck do you know about fashion? You live your life in an oversized sweater and comfy pants. Occasionally jeans, if you're required to leave your hive.
"No, I want us to match." Well at least that confirms he's not buying you a dress, thank the fucking mothergrub. Good, because you don't want to show as much skin as some of his dresses sure show. "Most of my dresses are for flarpin', anyways."
"How do you fucking do anything in a floor length frilly dress?"
"Not that one." There is clearly more than one of those, but you don't argue. "Short dresses an' skirts allow for a greater range of motion, which is ideal. No pant legs gettin’ caught in shit is advantageous. An' also, I look fuckin' hot in 'em while I blast some pleb from across the battlefield."
You can't help but laugh, even if he's ridiculous. He's awful, but he's at least a little bit funny. Judging by the way he grins a little lopsidedly at you, it was intentional.
"So you're wearing a suit then?" You clarify, "We're wearing suits?"
"Mm-hm, I think so?" Eridan moves the laptop again and sets you down on what appears to be a couch.
There's a couch in his dressing room. No troll needs this much money.
"I don't know if I'll actually wear the jacket on mine."
What he pulls out to show you is gorgeous, must have been terribly expensive, and actually has you a little excited to see what he's decided you're going to wear. You do trust him to make you look nice- he's good at that.
"I'm gunna add some gray accents, 'cause. Well. You know. We're gunna match." and for the first time, you actually get to see the way his fins flick when he's being bashful. The way he won't look right at his husktop, and then immediately busies himself putting the outfit back away and pulling out another. And then another.
Eridan has you tell him which ones you like better, and when you say it's hard to tell because you're not seeing them on him, you find yourself having walked right into his trap.
You spend two hours of the call watching him try on different items from his closet, explain to you what he'd alter on each, and then going so far as to teach you about jewelry and what certain ring placements mean, and how he's wearing plain ones to the event so as to not draw attention to any color but his own.
It's terribly endearing, and makes you wish you were there in person. You don't often feel like that- whether it's out of just being used to having to exist alone, or your genuine distrust of most other trolls, you're not sure. But Eridan is fun, he gives you a distraction from the reality that if shit goes completely fucking pear shaped come ascension, you'll never see anyone you know again, and will probably suffer a terrible fate. And he really cares about your opinions, as stupid as you know some of them are.
You find yourself both nervous, and looking forward to leaving your hive to attend a fancy dress party. Because sure, it's dangerous as fuck, but you basically have a powerful, rich, violetblood bodyguard wearing matching outfits with you the whole time. You couldn't possibly be in safer company. And... if you're honest with yourself, you maybe want to experience something so weird and fantastical, if it's anything like Eridan had described to you. You want to live your life a little bit, if ascension is where it all comes to a horrific end.
At least, that's what you're still telling yourself a week later, when you're trying to comb your curls into something presentable before Eridan arrives.
It's a pointless task, but you try anyways. You're destined to have wild curls unless you slick it down, but you're sure the roundness of your face would not aid you in pulling off that sort of look. It's not for you, and you have to deal with looking more like a disheveled cholerbear in whatever suit Eridan dresses you up in, rather than being some suave moviestar troll wannabe.
Your doorbell rings.
Normally that sound would have you lifting up the hatch in your living room under the rug, and scrambling into your hideaway until whoever was on your doorstep left. Instead, you're hurrying out of your bathroom and to the door, standing on your tip-toes to peek through the spy hole.
You can't see him clearly, but you can see his horns and shock of violet hair well enough to tell it's Eridan waiting on the other side. Your stomach is still all twisted up with nerves, but the excitement to actually hang out with a friend offline outweighs any ill feelings.
You open the door and are met with the sight of Eridan, dressed dapper as fuck, and holding some long bag? Oh- there's a coat hanger in it. That has to be the outfit he brought for you. It has its own fancy bag? What the fuck, that seems unnecessary.
"Hey Kar," He's clearly just as excited to see you, judging by the way he fidgets like he wants to get closer but won't without being given permission. That, and his other hand is holding the reins on his lusus. You nod to Eridan, then to his dad as a gruff but polite greeting.
"Ready to get dressed?" You swear Eridan's fins fan out as he asks you the question.
He had the button up you're currently wearing delivered to you yesterday, but you're still in your signature sweat pants and big ugly black socks too, so it's kind of an overall bad look, but you figure if anyone can fix you up, it's Eridan.
"I'm ready to not look like a fucking disaster in front of a bunch of trolls." You step back, gesturing for him to follow you in. He does, with this giddy sort of bounce in his step that makes you laugh. His lusus has to duck his head, but drifts in after him.
"That's your job. Make me presentable."
"Not a job, a treat!" He insists, and you catch him peering around your home. He's been over before, though not frequent but more than a few times. Eridan doesn't live close to civilization, so if he's coming to see actual society he tends to make a big trip out of it, and that doesn't often leave time for a full evening with you.
He's polite enough to close the door behind himself as you lead him to the ablution block, losing his dad about half way there as Crabdad comes out to see what the new noises are. They get along well, so you're never concerned about Eridan bringing his skyhorse lusus inside with him. The creature is every bit as prim and proper as his troll charge, anyways. Or rather, it's the other way around.
"We don't gotta rush or nothin'," Eridan tells you as you walk, "The ceremony is after a designated seating time, an' that's not til at least an hour in to the time allotted for socializing."
He's still just as giddy once the two of you are standing in front of the mirror, you appreciating the perfectly tailored black suit he's in. It has long hanging coat tails, gold military-esque loops of rope on the shoulders with similar thread trim, and charcoal blocks of fabric that match the dark grey of the dress shirt you're wearing. His own dress shirt peeking out from under the jacket is a perfect match to the natural violet of his hair.
It's one thing to see him try it on over video call, and another to have him right here next to you, dressed up and looking so comfortably suited to it.
"Do we have to like, find a table? Find Vriska and Terezi, then a spot to sit?" He holds the hook of the hanger while you unzip the bag around whatever the fuck he's about to make you wear.
"No, it's assigned seating. I had to register us and uh." He looks away, sheepish but smug at the same time, "Pull a few strings to get us where I wanted, but we have a reserved space. Everyone does."
Oh god, he had to call in favors owed to get you a seat at all, didn't he? He only asked you last week. There's no way he would be caught with an empty seat next to him should you have said no..... That's really sweet, actually? Honestly, you shouldn't find it so sweet because it was probably half favors, half threats, but the fact he likely did those things just to have you sit next to him at a fancy banquet does things to your bloodpusher.
"Did you throw money around, or threaten to shoot someone?" You try to sound scolding, you really do, but it definitely doesn't come out like that. "Thought you were working on being less of an entitled asshole?"
You're not expecting the way he absolutely beams at you.
"I made them a flarp outfit in exchange for slipping me an extra space."
Oh god, oh fuck. He's learning how to be decent and he's so proud of himself to tell you. What the fuck, that's adorable. Well now you can't not praise the bastard.
"That's... really nice of you. I'm impressed," You're holding a vest in your hands, and now it's distracting you, but you continue, "I'm glad that was your go-to and not threats of physical violence or potential friend murder. That's an improvement."
"Yeah you might not say that if you meet them tonight. They're basically the most insufferable healer class flarper that I've ever fuckin met, and I'd be doin' the world a favour by offin' them." He scrunches his nose up in distaste, and you can't help but laugh at him.
"Hurry up an' put it on." Eridan bumps his hip against yours, and you look back down at the clothing in your hands. He's still got hold of the pants part, and there's a tie of some sort still on the hanger, but the vest you're holding onto isn't any basic vest. It's fucking fancy, is what it is.
"This is clearly worth more than my life." You state, turning it around, then holding it up in front of yourself in the mirror.
It's a solid black fabric, stiff and perfectly pressed. The long tails at the back are so dramatic, but very much an Eridan kind of choice. There's gold trim on the shoulders that matches the half dozen buttons up the front, as well as over the breast pocket. But what strikes you right in the pusher is the little violet accent block of colour in the pocket for all to see. He said you'd be matching, and you absolutely are.
"Eridan... this is. Really fucking nice- did you make this?" You turn back to him in shock.
"I altered somethin' I ordered. Personalized it, or whatever." He tries to shrug it off, but you can see the tint to his cheeks.
"D'you like it?"
"Of course I like it," You're quick to answer, but look back down to it. "I'm just scared it won't look as nice on me!"
"It's gunna look better." He insists, and nods his head at you in encouragement. "Just put it on an' see. I've got good fashion sense, an' I been makin' flarp costumes for sweeps. You know this. Do I look like I'd not be able to fit somethin' to the measurements you gave me?"
You grumble and roll your eyes, but he's right. Once you get it on you over your dress shirt, it fits perfectly. Snug where it needs to be, but none of the buttons on the front are pulling, despite the softness to your middle having worried you they might. The tails at the back trail down over your ass, and your realize how dumb you look wearing shitty sweat pants with a personally tailored suit vest.
"Pants." You state, because your thinkpan isn't working right. You're still too impressed it fits.
"Right here." Eridan waves the hanger at you a little, and it works to get you rolling again, though you wouldn't say you're thinking that much clearer, because you just take them, drop your lazy sweatpants, and start stepping into the new pair like you didn't just remove your pants in front of your friend.
You only really notice once you're pulling them up over your hips and tugging on the zipper- You glance over to him, and he's not even phased. Actually, maybe that's a good thing? You were comfortable enough to not think about it, and he doesn't give a single fuck- he's too interested in dressing you up to care about you in your underwear.
That's. Really nice actually. That you didn't have to worry about awkwardness, or about him hitting on you or even pointing it out. It's Eridan, he occasionally flirts too hard and inappropriately with others (he's told you embarrassing stories of his failures), but you've never had to worry about that with you . At least, not as far as you've caught on to or minded?
You tuck in your dress shirt that he ordered you, and turn around to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a puff ball of curls, and you need the tie, but otherwise, you look pretty sharp.
Right. The tie.
You pluck it from the hanger, and very quickly realize you have no idea what to do. It's. Shorter than you were expecting. And kind of weird shapes. What the fuck is this? Is it even a real tie?
"I don't know what the fuck to do with this." You look up at Eridan, brows scrunched in annoyance, and he just chuckles at you. He sets the hanger and bag on your counter, and takes the strip of material from you.
"I'll get it." The way he smiles at you, warm and fond, does something to your pusher. He doesn't even think twice about it- just pops the collar on your shirt, loops it around, and begins folding and tugging. You're stuck staring at him while he does it, and it only takes him a moment, but you feel a bit of heat creep into your cheeks when he steps back, hands on his hips and looking pretty proud.
"There. Bowtie."
Oh. Oh so it is.
You look back in the mirror and there's a proper bowtie, and your collar has been flipped back down so the rest of you looks neat and tidy. It's just your hair that gives away how much of a disaster you are now.
You reach up to begin to poke at it, and Eridan is somehow quicker.
"Ah! Your hair! I think I can do something with that too." He pulls open a drawer in your counter and starts looking through your grooming tools, eyebrows pinching and nose scrunched up.
"These don't work very well for our hair type." He glances back to you, catching you in the middle of dripping water onto your head by your finger tips. "Uh."
"It's always everywhere."
"Well yeah, that's curls." His face softens again as he hears some noise come from your kitchen. "Your lusus is a crab, so like, I don't imagine hair care was something he'd have explained."
You start to squint but he keeps talking.
"Mine didn't either, but you know me, I like to look fancy, so I taught myself."
"I don't want it gelled or anything-" You start to protest, but he's pulling stuff out of his syladex and setting them on the counter top.
"I'm not gunna do anythin' like that, promise."
All he picks up is a little spray bottle filled with tap water, and a wide toothed comb. And ever so gently, after a brief misting, he combs your hair.
"No big brushes, you just separate everything and it makes your hair become a pom-pom." He explains with a dumb little smile, gentle as he picks his way around a tangle. "I think it's cute, but with how you're fussin', you sure don't."
You could smack him, he's being so soft.
"Now just let it dry, an' leave it alone. The more you mess with it, the more it's gunna expand."
And fuck him, it already looks better. Just that little spritz helped tame it so your curls are still there, just a little less sticking out in every direction at once. You look... presentable. Without being as finely groomed as he keeps himself, either! Eridan's hair clearly has a bit of product in it to keep it shaped out of his face, but nowanights he wears his hair looser than he did a couple sweeps ago. It's no longer the slicked back, perfect unit of hair, but rather gentle waves swooping back from his earfins and forehead. The curls around his cheeks are still there, similar to yours but shorter, and there's something endearing about the way they twist against his fins.
"How the fuck do you manage to make this all seem so easy? You just show up and fix everything about how I look in an instant." You try to give him shit, but your gratefulness is clearly showing through. Eridan laughs at you.
"You watched me try on outfits for nights , Kar." He pats your shoulder and rolls his eyes, then moves to put all his things he pulled out away again. "I gotta make up for my abhorrent personality by at least being good at lookin' nice, right?"
The protest starts to come out of you, but he's already headed out into the hall, leaving you standing there, amazed and excited because for what is the first time in what has to be sweeps... you don't hate how you look. He did it. Eridan made you content with how you look, and that's quite the fucking feat.
You follow after him and find him talking to his dad and yours in the livingroom.
"We won't be out early, I promise. I'll have him home long before sun-up," He assures crabdad, who clicks at him as if he can understand the noises that have meaning to you and no one else. "We're takin' a scuttlebuggy, an' not walkin', so you don't have to worry."
It's... unreasonably cute that he thought to inform your lusus of his plans with you. As if this is some sort of date, rather than what basically amounts to a high class nerd banquet with extra weapons. Well, okay maybe it's more like cosplay awards ceremony but everyone there except you has killed some unknowable number of trolls.
Why the fuck are you friends with so many trolls who do this, exactly?
"According to goregle, it's about a thirty minute scuttlebuggy ride." Eridan taps away on his palmhusk for a moment. "But you're like, used to bein' about that far away from everythin', huh?"
You nod, looking down at yourself again, still not over the way the vest buttons are even detailed so perfectly to match his.
"Safer for me than being in the subgrubs." He used to think you had the option to live closer, before you let your little secret slip. Or, well, mostly he'd already figured it out and you just pieced it together for him. He's book smart, not troll-smart.
"Well, we got about five minutes before our ride gets here, if you've got anything you need to do before we go?"
You remind your dad there is leftovers in the hunger trunk, find your nice shoes in the closet, and then with some coaxing, Eridan gets you to sit on your front steps with him.
"You have your fuck-off big gun, just in case?" You ask him, fidgeting with the cuffs of your dress shirt sleeves.
"Always." He bumps his shoulder against yours fondly. "I don't leave hive without it."
"There's never been any hoofbeast shit at these events in the past?"
"Oh there's always bullshit." Eridan snorts, "But it's not like, blood related. An' I mean that, it's not just me bein' an oblivious violet. Flarp is more about what you can do. Everyone there is capable of defendin' themselves. Some more than others but like, blood ain't at the heart of it or anythin'. It's just all skill an' costumes."
The scuttlebuggy pulls up at the edge of your lawnring and you both head to it. Anxiety bubbles angrily in your chest as Eridan holds the back door open for you, even though this isn't the first time you've ridden in one with him.
There are cameras in the newer models. You can see them as you climb in, and you try and remind yourself, you're still anonymous like this. Eridan provides good cover as a seadweller- one who's thought to be especially loyal to the empire, even. He looks very good on paper, and he knows it. You just never expected that sort of thing to be usable as a shield for yourself.
You flinch as Eridan's hand sets on yours, your fist bunching up the fabric of your pants.
"Kar, chill. We got this." He assures you, and you wish you had his confidence. You wish you didn't have to be so scared to be in public, but it's been the only thing that's kept you alive this long.
"You think we're gunna beat Vris an' Rez there?"
Eridan is trying to distract you- you know he is, he's not fucking subtle. But you appreciate it all the same.
You let go of your pants and force yourself to settle just a little. Breathe in, breathe out, and Eridan takes his hand back, returning to his phone as he confirms the estimated time of arrival on the scuttlebuggy app.
"Probably. It seems like their kind of move to show up once everything's really started, just to make sure everyone looks at them when they stumble in."
You think to yourself, for certainly not the first time since accepting Eridan's invitation, that you're going to be the voice of reason at your table. You're going to be the one troll there making sure Eridan doesn't get in over his head if someone starts shit. And maybe it's a little pale, maybe it's a little textbook diamond scenario... but you'd rather walk the fine line of friends to moirails, than find out your eccentric seadweller friend got himself culled at the elitist cosplay dinner.
"I identify with that statement," He laughs a little, "That's probably why we're friends with them."
There's a little pause as he wrinkles nose playfully.
"Or at least, friends with Terezi, I dunno about Vris."
You smirk back at him and bump your shoulder to his playfully.
"You know sometimes I wonder if you two ever really got out of spades," You start with him, because you know it'll keep him talking so that you don't have to think of the way buildings are getting closer together outside the scuttlebuggy as you approach the core city.
"Ugh, you're right, we do basically pitch flirt without any desire to take it anywhere, huh?" He sticks his tongue out at you when you fix him with a pointed look. "That's really how it is. She don't want me in a quad, an' frankly I'm not sure I could survive havin' her in one'a mine anyways, even if I was interested. I'll take aggrivatin' hatefriends over lackluster, awkward kismesis neither of us actually wants any night. That ship sailed at like, five sweeps."
"Five sweeps is barely able to dress yourself, what the fuck is a kismesis like at that age?"
"Mostly her knockin over the minis I put on a DnD map and tellin' me I was a little bitch who was bad at roleplayin' whenever she rolled low."
You try not to laugh, but a little snicker maybe slips out. He doesn't appear to fault you for it.
"Sounds about right for her. Lots of hair pulling and tantrums I assume?"
This time Eridan laughs, shaking his head but you think it's in agreement.
"Rich comin' from like, the king'a tantrums, but yeah."
Well, he's got you there.
He looks down at his palmhusk and tips it your direction so you can see the countdown to arrival. You're nearly there already- no traffic or stops got in your way.
Your nervousness must be obvious because he pockets his phone and sits up straighter.
"Hey, it's gunna be fine. It'll be fun, we'll have a nice meal, an' we don't even have to stay out early- we can go right hive after dinner if you want."
He's being very sweet, you know he is. Eridan is being very good about this whole thing and it warms your pusher in a certain kinda way, but it's hard for anything to keep pace with the 'what if's that race through your mind. All the possible scenarios that could become reality.
The scuttlebuggy stops, making a pleased 'ding' sound as the doors pop open just an inch for you, implying you should leave.
You look to Eridan, eyes wide and brows pinched- and he smiles, all encouragement and confidence.
"You'll be fine. Promise."
You let out the breath you're holding, and push your door open.
The banquet hall really looks less like a dinner hall, and more like a mansion hive from the outside. There's shrubs and a garden, decorative flower arrangements and spotlights. There's a fuchsia carpet over stonework that leads up to the doors, which are obscenely tall, but the frame slender.
It's absolutely a place Flarp enthusiasts would want to host their awards, you can tell that just at a moments glance.
There are a few other trolls outside in small groups, just talking and paying you no attention as you come around to the other side of the scuttlebuggy, joining Eridan as he fixes his outfit to be a little less wrinkled from sitting. He turns and fixes yours without a word- you hold in a protest with pursed lips.
"I'm glad we arrived after the crowd," He says quietly to you, straightening your bowtie, "This area gets packed and it's a little too much, even for me."
You're a little surprised by that- he always carries himself with such an air that something like that wouldn't be an issue. And you know he's not infallible, but you perhaps expected him to never admit nervousness so openly without the situation being right there and obvious. He's getting incredibly comfortable with you, huh?
The two of you start towards the doorway, and while a few people catch Eridan's eyes and nod a casual greeting to him, no one stops you to talk. It might be the way Eridan walks with purpose preventing that, or it might be that they're busy with their own conversations already. Either way- you're thankful.
You don't want anyone to ask questions, and Eridan doesn't allow for anyone to even try.
The troll at the door with a booklet in hand appears to be an exception, however.
"Ampora, and my plus one, Vantas."
He gives your last names, and you're reminded that yes, this is a very formal event after all. High class cosplayers, and technically a banquet event- not some hive-party.
The doortroll is stoic as shit, complete with a slow blink and the lazy way he opens the book like it's the most boring task on the planet.
"A cerulean tried very hard to bribe me into not letting you in." He states, not having to look far down the list of names for Ampora.
You snort, and Eridan rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, not surprised."
"She was not very convincing." The troll continues, and you can't help but grin. You can handle Vriska's sort of shenanigans, and honestly knowing she's already here and looking for trouble gives you some sort of comfort in the familiarity of it. She's exactly the same in online games.
"You may want to thank Ms. Pryope for claiming so loudly to witness her attempt at bribery. It seemed to dissuade her."
"Rezi always has my thanks for that sorta shit." Eridan laughs and nods to him, and you are both permitted to enter the doorway with a sweeping motion of the doortroll's hand.
The peace and quiet from outdoors is quickly wiped away as you enter the building. There's no yelling, but instead there is a busy hub-bub of trolls clustered in little groups, chatting casually while standing together or seated on little groups of couches.
You feel yourself tuck closer to Eridan, and your pusher seizes in your chest as you feel his hand on your shoulder, arm against your back.
"You'll be fine," He assures you, quiet enough that only you can hear.
The two of you begin walking forward, Eridan directing you straight through the middle, towards two large pairs of doors that are wide open. You can see tables and chairs through them, so you know he's looking to bypass the social groups and go right for the seating- but he doesn't even get halfway before he's stopped.
"Ampora!"
Trolls you don't recognize walk up to you, circling around as greetings are exchanged.
"You had a great season, congratulations!"
"Really well played, absolutely ruthless."
It's a lot of ass-kissing, and very much the same sort of vibe you've seen in movies regarding business, rather than elaborate dress up roleplay. These trolls would sell Eridan's soul for a leg up on the competition, and judging by how he speaks back to them, he knows that. It's all show, all acting, zero sincerity on his part- not that he's not at least drinking up the ego boosts as they're handed to him, free of charge.
The whole exchange is just fake flattery and over the top praise of each other's outfits, flarp season results, whatever. It's two faced in every way.
"And who might this be? What poor troll did you sucker into being your plus one?" A particularly skeezy looking tealblood leans down to you, trying to get a good look at your face.
Half your thinkpan is screaming at you to punch his sly mug and cuss him out for the implication, the other is hyper aware of how much of a threat any attention on you is and wants you to run back the way you came.
You don't really get the chance to react either way, because there's a blurr of dark cerulean and red, and very suddenly there is a troll pushing themselves straight into the center of the small gathering around you.
"You're late, fish-fuck!"
You can hear the 'eight' in the word, and you can already guess who this is. You've actually not spent time in person with her, only played online games over voice call, but there's no doubt in your mind that this is Vriska Serket who has inserted herself into the conversation. She looks different when it's not a photo of her and Eridan covered in blood and gore mid-flarp, but there is roughly the same amount of wild hair and knives.
You feel Eridan release you and new hands grab hold of your shoulders, smaller, sharper. You're steered away from the conversation and you barely catch the little grin and wave Eridan tosses your way before you're being hurried out of range of the conversation.
"They'll catch up to us later, after Vriska's had her fun."
You look back to see who's guiding you, and find Terezi, smug as shit over her well-executed trollnapping. She lets go of you and moves to walk next to you instead.
"Long time, no see!" Her shoulder bumps against yours and you laugh at the pun, bumping her back playfully.
"Thanks for that, you awful disaster! It has been a long time!" You think, if you weren't scared out of your mind that so many trolls would be happy to kill you, you might be the sort of creature prone to hugs. Because you do want to hug Terezi. Both because she's your friend you rarely get to see, and because she just saved you from a nerve-wracking conversation.
"About a sweep, almost!"
Yeah, you suppose about that length of time? You don't go out to socialize much anymore. Too dangerous, when you're not sure how obvious your bloodcolour is becoming to the average troll.
"You're the only person I can comfortably ask this to tonight," You say, lowering your voice to a hushed tone as you walk, "but am I obvious? Is it obvious?"
"That you're a social reject with no clue how to talk to trolls in person? Absolutely."
You swat at her and she giggles, swatting you back.
"You're asking the blind girl if you look suspicious, Karkat. I'm not sure what you're expecting."
You groan and she laughs at you again, waiting until you pass through the doorway into the quieter but much more open dining hall before she leans in close again.
"You're fine. No one can tell you're not just a rust so long as you don't blush too hard."
"Oh thank fuck, that was all I could think about back there." You admit and she claps your back roughly.
"Quit worrying and have a little fun. It's a party tonight, after all!"
"No, actually, Eridan assured me it's a Banquet, and not just a fancy party." You straighten your vest and do your best 'prim and proper' impression. If she had functioning eyes behind her glasses, you think Terezi might have rolled them at you.
You continue walking with her, letting Terezi lead since she knows where she's going and you have no fucking clue, though judging by the two already seated individuals at the table ahead of you, you've got a hunch.
You've seen a few photos of Tavros and Aradia before, and their horns are pretty remarkable so you're confident that is who is already seated quietly away from the busy lobby of the building.
"Karkat!" Aradia stands to greet you, and while you've never met in person, she still scoops you up in a hug anyways. You sputter, and she seems to have a moment where she realizes she maybe should have asked first, then sets you back down.
"I didn't know you'd be so pocket sized." Her smile is big, and a little unnerving, but she seems friendly enough for you to not be worried. She's someone very connected to trolls you call friends, and as a maroonblood, she's not much of a threat to you. She wears her colours proudly as a long flowy skirt and deep red moonflowers tucked in her curls.
Tavros gives a little wave to you and you wave back.
"Its... a little too busy in the lobby for my tastes," He admits, and you nod in agreement, "Glad you could join us in here though?"
"Fuck yeah, Eridan can shmooze all he wants, but that shit is not for me." You look down at the table and find your last name written in gold on a little card, set perfectly in the center of a plate. Ampora is on the plate next to it, then Serket and Pyrope after that. Aradia appears to have claim to the seat on your right side, though there's spacing between you so as to leave room for a path between tables that leads up to the stage. You can only assume that is planned to be there for the awards ceremony part of the banquet.
You drop down into your seat and your friends join you, though you don't seem to have much time for conversation before more trolls begin filtering into the room.
Eridan did tell you that the two of you were arriving late, after all, so you suppose the alloted socializing time (or whatever the fuck Eridan called it) is starting to draw to a close and trolls are looking to find their seats.
You don't like the idea that this whole room, as massive as it is, is going to fill with trolls who compete in a violent roleplay group within the next ten minutes. That abso-fucking-lutely is a thing you are trying not to think about as you make small talk with Terezi and the fabled Team Charge.
Tavros and Aradia are both very comfortable, safe people. You know Aradia mostly through Sollux, but have no idea if she's aware of your mutant status. You think she might be, but you're almost certain Tavros has no fucking clue. You wouldn't say the guy is observant to begin with, but he is endearingly genuine in everything that he says. A bit of a dweeb, but a decent one.
You start to wonder when Eridan and Vriska will join you, right before a glass of something bubbly is set down next to you and a careful, manicured hand drags across your back.
Eridan sits down in his seat, catching it just before Vriska could pull it out from under him.
"I'm not fallin' for that this banquet either, Vris. You gotta be more clever than that." He quips at her, but then turns to you. "Sorry that took so long. Some fuckin' obnoxious spider felt the need to talk about her exploits for a few sweeps."
"To my legions of adoring fans! I couldn't deprive them of my daring tales of flarp victories past!" Vriska joins the table, handing off a drink to Terezi much in the same way Eridan just did for you.
The room starts to get loud with the movement of chairs, trolls sitting down, and eventually an oliveblood in a full sequin dress takes to the stage and announces that the awards ceremony will be beginning shortly, and for everyone to get comfortable.
Some dapper looking trolls in matching suits enter the room from the back door carrying wide plates piled with something. It takes a while for one to arrive at your table, but once the troll holds out the plate to the group of you, you become keenly aware of how fucking hungry you are.
"Ooooooo, snacks!" Vriska snatches a small handful off the offered pile and Terezi follows her example.
"Yeah don't ruin you meal by eatin' a fuck ton of these," Eridan cautions you, and you have to admit, it's tempting. You are very hungry. But you do as advised and only accept a few of the offered miniature foods onto your plate. Just like, four maybe. You really want to call the butler looking troll back for more. "Actual dinner is always very worth the wait."
"I feel bad eating the cute tiny foods." Aradia admits, holding one up to examine it. It looks like she has to remove parts of hers in order to get to the edible section.
"They're called hors d’oeuvres." Eridan informs you, turned more towards you than the group you're sitting with. You know the word- words? It’s two words, right? From movies and books telling tales of highblood parties, but you've never had any yourself.
"Horse devorce." Terezi says, as if she's correcting him.
You sputter out a laugh, and almost choke on your tiny oblong meat product wrapped in pastry.
Everyone's small platefuls of hors d’oeuvres get eaten pretty quickly, and while you wait for the ceremony to start Vriska and Terezi clearly start to grow bored of just sitting somewhere.
"I'm going to get more drinks, does anyone want some?" Terezi offers, but you're not sure you trust her to bring you back something safely, so you decline. The moment she's gone, her partner begins creating chaos in her own way.
Vriska plucks the remnants of snacks off everyone's plates and begins shoving them directly into Tavros' drink. He protests a little, but Aradia offers him her barely touched glass instead. Very quickly, the tainted glass of punch becomes a disgusting stew of pastry flakes, shell, and whatever the hell leaf thing had wrapped one of the items.
It's disgusting, and in true Vriska fashion, she begins trying to bully each member of the table into drinking it, one at a time.
As Terezi returns, there's a brief moment where you and Eridan exchange a relieved glance, because ideally she is the one force that can get Vriska to shut the fuck up and behave.
That is not what happens.
"I've spiked the punch, and no one will ever guess it was the blind girl, but I figured I'd warn all of you." She states as she settles back in her chair, offering Tavros a new drink and loudly sipping from her own.
Great. Fantastic.
"Please don't get us kicked out of the Bi-Lunar Sweep Flarp Banquet before I get to do my speech." Eridan pleads, but she only cackles.
Not long after, the oliveblood MC returns to the stage and taps on their microphone, welcoming everyone to the banquet, the building, and congratulating everyone on a successful, entertaining Flarp season.
They list off a number of sponsors for the event, and crack a few jokes that appear to be a fun way of cautioning trolls not to start fights during the banquet, as the results have long been clear.
After a short video clip is played on a projector screen, showcasing some 'highlights' of the season that were recorded during matches, the award announcements begin.
Eridan shifts next to you, and you catch him mouthing parts of his speech to himself, but overall he doesn't seem too nervous. Not like you wouldn’t be in his position- but also you're not a troll who'd ever handle being on a stage well in any capacity.
Third place's team is called up, then second place, and before you know it, Eridan and Vriska are announced as winners of first place, leading the competition by dozens of points in categories you don't understand, and with a kill count that breaks their record from the previous banquet.
The two of them leave the table amidst applause from the room around you. You catch some trolls looking at them with scowls, and some just genuinely seem to admire them a little. It's an odd thing, to know that the pair do what they do in order to essentially keep Alternia from getting mind-melted, as well as feeding Vriska's own lusus. You’re not sure the rest of the room knows their true motivations.
The trophy is held up by the two of them, but if you remember right, Eridan told you he gets to keep them usually. Vriska isn't using flarp on her resume like he is, so it's a mutually decided thing. After a moment’s pause, the microphone is handed over to Eridan and he steps forward to a podium and begins to talk.
You've heard him practice this speech a million times by now. It's exactly the right amount of pompous to be annoying, but balances out with his thanks to the community in a way that showcases his passion for the theatratrics and drama that come with being a pro Flarper. You've heard it so many times over voice call that you could likely recite it yourself.
This also means that it fades into the background of your mind the moment you notice a few trolls look back to where Eridan had been seated.
Back to you .
Your empty stomach gurgles but it feels more anxious than hungry, a dark pit of nerves swirling inside you. Trolls in movies and novels describe some sort of feeling like flutterbugs trapped inside- this certainly isn't that. This feels like a storm, like an angry sea, and it draws your attention entirely away from Eridan.
Instead of the posh seadweller who brought you here speaking into a microphone, all you can think about is the sly grin on a large cobalt's face as he looks you up and down, an eyebrow raised.
When you look away, elsewhere, there's a purpleblood with smeared face paint fidgeting with a ceremonial lance who meets your gaze. She looks hungry, and you know in your mind that you are a snack no one would mind her having.
It's not like anyone could call the drones, after all. She'd be doing them a favor. And anyone who stands in her way would be a criminal, in the law’s eyes.
"Karkat?"
Terezi's voice distracts you, and your eyes dart to her, a couple seats over. Aradia and Tavros are watching Eridan, but Terezi seems to have noticed your discomfort.
"Yeah?" Your voice comes out higher pitched than you were expecting, your anxiousness peeking through.
"Are you ok?"
She can't see you sweating, but you're sure she can smell your fear. You try to squash it down, try to be cool.
"Yep. I'm fucking fine." Your words are rushed, stressed, and you try and discreetly scooch your chair closer towards her. She's safe, she has your back-
Vriska starts talking and Terezi looks away from you, up to her partner on stage. You're suddenly very alone again, and very aware of the eyes on you. You're hyper aware of the way you're breathing, of the way there's not a direct path to an exit- if you'd even get that far before one of the trolls in here decided they wanted to unmask your gray hemoanon cover with the sharp end of a knife.
Terezi laughs at something Vriska says, and it startles some primitive part of your insect brain that's screaming fight or flight.
You stand up, and start towards the exit. You need to go, you need to leave. You need to get hive where it's safe and no one knows you exist with a target on your back!
Some trolls move their chairs closer to their tables so that your path is easier, others don't notice you until you're in their view, trying to squeeze past. You want to look back, see if that purple blood has given chase, see if anyone has started to follow you- but the blood pounding in your ears, pusher seizing in your chest, keeps your eyes on the glow of the doorway out of the seating area.
You trip on a chair leg when you're nearly there, but you don't hit the ground.
There's a cool hand at the softness of your side, and for a moment, fear strikes you so hard it hurts- they're going to kill you. Who ever has you is going to kill you, right here, right now-
"Kar, it's okay-"
You turn and look up, and find big, worried, violet eyes looking down at you. Eridan. Eridan left the stage?
"You- your speech-" You stammer, eyes darting around. Some trolls are looking, but Vriska is also doing something obnoxious on stage to get as much attention as possible. She's holding the large trophy, and the troll teams with second and third place appear to be only a moment away from hurling their trophies in her direction.
"Vris can handle it, come on."
And it's like you're suddenly numb. He puts an arm around your shoulders like it's nothing, and steers you towards the doorway again. You're still freaking out internally, you think, even though you know you're safe with Eridan. Somewhere in your mind is screaming, but on the outside you just let him lead you into the hallway, and then into one of the little lounge sections that looks a bit like how movies depict mansion lobbies.
The couch he sits you down on (with both his hands on your shoulders, and giving you a little push down) isn't very comfortable, but it does look expensive. It looks expensive like that clown's outfit and Lance. Like more than half the trolls you've seen tonight who would happily crush you under their boots-
"Kar, you're breathin' real fast again, shhh," Eridan is right next to you, turned to face you, and you're looking at him but not truly. Your focus is still elsewhere until there's a cool, grounding palm cupping your cheek.
You blink as he smooths his thumb back and forth over your hot face. Just your cheek, just a soft little pap, but the relief is almost instant.
"Shoosh," He draws out the Os with his seadweller accent, as well as the 'sh' sound follows. You can feel the rings on his fingers, but he's careful, gentle as he pets you. It brings a sort of fuzzy feeling over your frantic fear, like a blanket being dropped on top of you.
The way it slows your bloodpusher down, back to a normal rate, brings your breathing back to calm as well- it's incredible. You're not sure when you tipped forward into his touch, but you're not about to stop when you feel the bump of his glasses on your forehead.
"That help?" He asks, voice hushed and soft.
"Mm-hmm."
You've never had a shortage of words or volume before in your shitty, meager excuse of a life. It leaves you floundering, but there's no fear to it. It's the sort of lost feeling that is more aimless, less urgent.
"Are you alright? What happened?" He sounds so worried about you, and you're not sure when you closed your eyes, but when you open them, he looks at you like you're crumbling.
"I just, fucking. Freaked out?" You try and piece it together for yourself, but he's still papping you and it's making your thinkpan turn to soup. You catch his hand in yours and tug it away from your cheek.
You need to be able to think.
Your pusher nearly breaks at the raw hurt look Eridan has in his eyes, but you don't let go of his hand. You squeeze it instead of letting go, and then hold it with both your hands, firm and steady.
Maybe not steady, you're shaking a little again. But at least he knows you're not stopping him because you don't like him touching you.
"There were trolls looking at me like they wanted me dead. Or, I guess just wanted to fucking cut me open-"
"Who?" Eridan asks, instantly on the aggressive. If you didn't have his right hand, you think he'd be going for Ahab's already.
"I don't fucking know?? Some clown, a cobalt, a few others. They were looking at me like I was meat- or some kind of fat, fucked up little piniata and the prize inside is the license to kill!"
"Kar, all you gotta do is point 'em out to me, I swear."
And he's serious. He's dead serious in the way he looks at you, determined to do this. To fight off whoever he has to.
But. If he didn't know who was looking or scaring you.... that means they didn't get out of their seats. He didn't run into them when he left from the literal fucking stage at the other side of that huge room.
They didn't chase you.
So we're they really ever a threat?
You exhale a shaky breath, and slump over against the back of the couch.
"Shit."
You don't let go of Eridan's hand. He's confused, and in a terribly endearing way, he looks around himself, like he doesn't know what to do, then slumps over with you, mirroring your posture.
"Could you point them out if we went back?"
You shake your head, sighing in frustration at yourself.
"I don't know if they actually were a threat now. Or if it was just, all in my stupid fucking think pan." He squints a little, confused even more. "You didn't pass anyone getting out of their seats, right?"
"No. You were really easy to see, you were the only one up." He pauses, then sheepishly smiles a little. "And I was watchin' you already, so I kinda got to you quicker than I was expectin' to. But there was no one else up, just us. You even cleared a path through everyone for me to follow, too."
Oh. Yeah, fuck. Okay then.
"I don't know then. Maybe they were just looking at me because I was freaking out? It felt like everyone in that room was a danger, but. If they didn't even get up, then. Maybe they weren't?" Ugh, you're so frustrated with yourself, with the fear that had gripped you so absolutely. Were you finding eyes on you because there were trolls looking at you? Or because you were being a weirdo looking around at random trolls minding their own fucking business?
Eridan settles a little, but doesn't move from where he's sitting with you.
"If you don't think they're dangerous now, I won't go killin' nobody. Not unless you tell me to, okay?" And you're thankful he doesn't get upset with you for doubting your own mind. He doesn't question it further, either, just accepts what you're telling him. He trusts you, and that about does you in.
You take his hand again, both of them this time, and give them a squeeze.
"Thanks. For coming after me." You sigh, shaking your head at yourself. "I don't even know what the fuck I was planning to do when I got out of here, but I know I was headed right out the building."
"Sounds like you were just scared, Kar. Thinkpans don't always plan when they're scared." He offers you a little smile, fond as he thumbs over the back of your left hand. "I don't blame ya for bein' scared. Just glad I caught you."
You snort.
"Yeah, I almost ate shit, didn't I?" His smile turns into a little grin. "Good thing you caught me. You've had my back pretty much this whole time."
"Well, yeah. Of course I have." There's a pause, and then he dips his head. You can see him thinking really hard about what he wants to say, but you're impatient.
"What's up? You're worrying about something now- what is it?" You press him, and he chews his lip, still thinking but now dramatically.
"I just..... well. Okay, so don't stab me-" You make a face, but then remember the countless times he's come hive and text you that he's been stabbed. Really, how is that a normal occurrence for any troll.
"But. I think it's probably better I be honest an' upfront about this."
Oh he's going to talk feelings. You were the one to tell him being honest was better, even if it didn't get him what he wanted. He's so going to tell you feelings that you've friggin been hopping around talking about because you didn't want to assume, didn't want to push-
"Eridan..." You squeeze his hands again. He just papped you. He just fucking shooshpapped you and it worked, it was exactly what you needed and he's worried to tell you his feelings about this!
As if he didn't already pap your stupid fucking face successfully!
"I'm over the fuckin' moons for you. Pale as salt, pale as stars. An' I know me bein' violet is probably scary for you sometimes, but I promise I'd never hurt you."
There are other trolls passing through, carrying plates and containers, rolling carts filled with food that smells so fucking good- but your whole world is focused on the seadweller sitting in front of you, holding your hands as he tells you his feelings.
"I couldn't see myself bringin' anyone but you here with me tonight. And I guess it's kind of a real grand first date or somethin', but I kinda. Wanted to ask you to be my moirail." You knew it was coming, but his accent on the word hammers it home. Right through your pusher and oh fuck, oh fuck you might cry.
"Flarp is both a hobby, an' a way for me to look better when I get called up to space. Put me in a good position. No ones gunna fuck with me an' mine here, or once we leave Alternia."
Oh wait, what? You knew he wanted to be high ranking, but you didn't really think you factored into that. You almost start talking but if you do, you're worried the tears might spill over. You don't want to cry, even if Eridan already knows you're a blubbergrub at the earliest convenience during emotional movies.
"I've talked to Captor an' he agrees," You successfully hide your amazement that Sollux would ever agree to anything Eridan could suggest, "it's likely best for me to be a backup plan compared to his scanner crack plan or Fef's overthrow plans. Someone high rankin' on the inside. An' I feel like, I don't want to hide that from you. That I can maybe offer you a little protection if everything else goes to shit."
It makes sense. If he was your moirail, and secures himself a high ranking title, it would offer you a little protection during ascension. Especially considering that he goes up before you- all your friends do, you're the youngest of your group.
"But I don't want you to think me askin' your diamond is pure strategy."
You meet his eyes, and in this moment, he looks terribly vulnerable. You still have hold of his hand, and he gives yours a little squeeze.
"I care about you immensely, Kar. I'm sorry tonight was so nerve wracking. I know I can protect you from the trolls in here physically but I didn't really consider that I couldn't exactly calm your thinkpan if I wasn't right there the whole time. And I know this kinda shits scary for you."
Oh sweet mothergrub, who the fuck taught him how to be so sincere? Who taught him how to crack your pusher open like this? Fuck, that was you, wasn't it...
"I really do wanna be your moirail, if you'll have me."
You do a quick look around the lobby to make sure no one is watching, and then you lean forward to bump your foreheads together again. You're messing up your bangs, and likely his hair too, but you don't care.
"You," You start, but it comes out too rough, like all your emotionally charged words do every night of your fucking life.
You try again.
"You have got to be thick as hell if you think I didn't come to this banquet assuming I was going to keep you out of trouble. That's not what happened and I'm as fucking shocked as the rest of this hell-murder-planet. But I came with every intention of dancing the line of friends-to-pale while supporting your life goal furthering hobby, and just genuinely wanting to go out and have a good time with you."
You had a point, you swear you had a point with this!
"You dressed me up in these fancy clothes, assured me I was safe the whole way here. You even held my fucking hand in the scuttlebuggy."
He's so confused, but doesn't pull back. You remind yourself for what you think might be the third time this night, that Eridan Ampora is not troll-smart, he's book smart.
"If you want my diamond, you already have it. You've likely had it for sweeps, and both our dumb asses have somehow missed the fucking memo."
A look of awe and pure glee washes over his face, and that flutterbug feeling in your chest from earlier is different now, excited and full of energy.
"You papped me out of a panic attack, and have the fucking gal to think I'd say no? You'd have lost a hand if I'd not wanted it to be you." You scoff at him, but then he pulls his hands from yours and gets both his palms on your cheeks, not papping, just holding.
And then he kisses you, soft and chaste. Just a short, gentle little kiss, but it steals your breath from your chest.
His glasses are bumping your nose, but you don't care. You brush your fingers over one of Eridan's earfins and feel him slump forward on the couch, towards you but trying so hard not to melt entirely on top of you. No, that would be a little indecent and there are absolutely people moving around somewhere nearby- oh fuck, you're totally not as private with this as you'd like to be, shit!
Flustered but still giddy, you pull away from him, looking around for the source of the noise. A trolly full of food rolls by, and it smells really fucking good.
Your stomach rumbles.
"Oh." Eridan looks down, then back up to meet your eyes. "They're serving the meal."
He doesn't ask you to go back to the table with him, but you know he wants to. You know, for your own peace of mind and also maybe your pride, that you should too. But there's also part of you that wants to wither with shame- other trolls saw you freaking out. They're going to look at you if you try and return to the table and your friends.
Fuck, you are hungry though. And you're already here.
"We came all the way to this stupid banquet," You almost feel bad calling It stupid, but you think Eridan knows by now that you don't actually mean that you think it's stupid. "It would be a waste to not eat the food, right?"
You don't want to have to ask for that confirmation, but he so readily gives you reassurance with a squeeze of your knee.
"Probably would be a little dumb of us not to eat dinner." He agrees.
You sigh, lips pursed for a moment.
He was open and honest with you, and you ought to repay that with continuing to tell him your fears, no matter how stupid. Because if there's one troll who can help you with them, he's sitting there right in front of you.
"They're going to look at me when we go back in there." You start, brows knitted. "It's going to be a lot of trolls looking at the weird guy who ran out of the room in the middle of a speech."
"Hmm," Eridan considers that for only a moment, before giving you a solution. "Then why don't we give them somethin' to look at?"
He stands and takes your hand, pulling you to your feet with him. And then he slides his arm over your shoulder again, like it's the easiest thing in the world, and walks you back towards the door to the eating hall.
"So you gotta remember with this crowd, that they're a bunch of nerds who like to brawl. But looks are what they really care about." He leans in close, presses a kiss to your temple that completely takes your mind off of anyone who might be looking.
"It's all about the presentation. They're not going to question shit if we walk in there looking confident." You feel him smile into your hairline before pulling his face back from you just a fraction, “And you’re officially the moirail of the Flarp champion, so you’ve got somethin’ to be confident about.”
You'll never flarp, and you'll never schmooze, but there's something terribly easy about how you tuck your arm around his waist, and walk with him back to your table of friends, head held high. You never thought this would be a kind of acting you could pull off, but it's not so hard when Eridan is right at your side.
And maybe that's the key component- having someone so deep in the theatrics, right there with you, holding your hand the whole way. Because of all the trolls you know, Eridan Ampora is the one troll adequately equipped to handle your theatrics.