Bluh bluh, this is my first story and I'm sorry for the horridness of it all. Probably a little bit OOC. Constructive criticism is welcomed.
-/Satin In A Coffin/-
You stared down at the corpse in front of you. Or more so, in the general direction of it. Even with your newly sober mind, you couldn't bear to look at the dead eyes of the troll you had pitied the most, especially now, seeing his body was curved in an awkward angle, his brand fucking new robotic legs were bent backwards, not having been able to take the shock of the fall. You frowned and looked at his chest- there was a giant hole going perfectly through the sign on his shirt, staining the already pitch black fabric darker with the still wet blood. His lance, coated thickly with his own blood, lay out beside him, useless in anything besides the murder of it's holder. Finally you trailed your eyes upward, those amber eyes that once held such innocence and affection for the world that it was hard to believe he was even a troll at times.
Cruelly enough, part of you thought he deserved it.
After all, whispered one of the voices that had been haunting you for the past hours, hadn't he rejected you? A pathetic shitblood like him had the guts to reject a subjugglator.
Yes.
Yes, that was true. Almost painfully true when you thought about it. He should have been motherfucking honored, but instead he went back to that spiderbitch Vriska. You coulda treated a motherfucker right, you had the power, you had the money, but no. You let out a low hiss whenever you snapped back to reality, still.
No matter, the more aggressive of the two shouted in your mind, even such a nice friend gets the same treatment. You were going to kill them all anyways, weren't you? Of course you were. It's really the only proper way to let them see the miracles.
Your eyes lingered on his, as if you expected him to blink or talk or something, but it was futile. Finally you knelt down beside him, the old clownish grin on your face, not minding whenever you felt the scratches on your face start to open up again, dripping indigo blood onto Tavros' face. You always thought your colors complimented eachother nicely, and his blood mixing with yours on that pale gray face just proved you right.
"Motherfucker, I SURE HOPE YOU AINT A-motherfucking-sleep." You cackled, placing one sloppy kiss to his lips before equipping an axe from your strife deck. "GOD, I sure hope you are dead." Because you damn well will be after this, you added mentally, drawing back, letting out a low chuckle as his blood splattered onto the front of your shirt whenever your arms dropped, his head rolling to the side, at least until one of his horns stopped him.