Being on the run took more energy than he had been anticipating. A perigree of it had left him sleep-deprived and stressed out. Not to mention overly paranoid of anything that moved. Needless to say, when the lock to his hive-stem got blown out, he nearly collided with the ceiling. After a brief firefight, he managed to break for the window and out-run them on the fire escape, a bullet grazing his leg on the way down. He managed to catch a glimpse of the Cavalreapers they sent to check out the disturbance before he had to flee. After all, the government doesn't tend to like it when random firefights start in hive-stems.

Dodging through a few alleys, his phone went off, signaling someone was trying to contact him. Great. They could wait long enough for him to get to safety. Once he was fairly certain he had lost his assailants, he pulled his phone out. He nearly dropped his phone at the trolltag that was flashing. CC. Feferi. Her Imperious Condescension herself.

Sparing a few moments, he fired a few quick responses to her, reassuring the both of them that the other was relatively safe. A bullet whizzing past his head; however, wasn't going to be so easily ignored. Typing out a message as he ran, he wasn't fast enough to hit send before the next bullet blew his phone right out of his hand. A second shot ricocheted off the ground, punching through his leg.

Fighting through the searing pain, he dove behind the nearest cover. Going for the Crosshairs, he paused for an instant. They weren't charged. He couldn't use them. "Fuck." Another moment or two brought to his attention the silence of the alley, and footsteps just in front of the garbage receptacle he had chosen to hide behind. There was nothing for it, he'd have to fight with whatever he had on hand.

Luckily for him, he had a sabre he'd snatched from another enemy as well as their Strife Specibus of Swordkind. He held his breath and waited for them to get within arms-reach before lashing out with his weapon, taking the assailant's arm off, spattering the ground with their olive blood. Before the arm had stopped bleeding, he had the gun trained on its previous owner. The rifle he now had wasn't particularly modern, but it did what he needed it to do at the moment.

Firing two, succinct shots to the torso, he sent his attacker reeling back. Heh, 'reel'. Leaning out far enough to see the rest of them, he fired another two shots at the next advancing target. Yellow joined olive on the ground. Not being used to the rifle, he wasn't quite fast enough to take down the third before he took a second bullet, this time to the left shoulder.

'Not my finest moment, sorry Fef.' Those words rang in his mind, even as his eyesight faded and his whole world went dark. Eridan Ampora had been bested.

Something cold and wet roused him back from the depths of unconsciousness. Blearily blinking his eyes open, he was greeted with the near blinding light of some lamp or another. His glasses were missing; his whole body was numb save for those few places that the nerves were sending dull throbs of pain through his system. His breath was coming in slow, ragged breaths, and he realized he was feeling kind of dry. The faint scent of his own, drying blood and, even fainter, salt water were the only things he could really focus on at the moment.

After a few more moments, his eyes adjusted to the bright, and he glanced over himself. His ankles were bound together, and a chain around his wrists was keeping him upright. Most of his clothes were gone, his pants, as ragged as they were, barely counted anyway. A low, indistinct voice called out to him, making him turn his gaze back to the front. He couldn't see who it was, but he figured they were talking to him. A few repetitions later, he was finally conscious enough to understand what they were saying.

"Er/dan Ampora. You k/\\ed some a my best men \ast n/ght."

"fuck… you." The raspy, forced voice of their captive hissed from between clenched teeth.

"Now, now. That's no way to behave."

"allow me to repeat myshellf. fuc-" A hand swinging across his face shut him up rather soundly.

"Must you be so ca\\ous? Here / am, try/ng to be po\/te, and you use such… Vu\gar/t/es. /t's so unbecom/ng of someone of your nob\e b\ood co\or."

"do / \ook \/ke / care?" Eridan spat back, doing his best to mock the other's ridiculous quirk. "i don't knoww wwho you are. i don't care wwho you are. i'm just wwonderin wwhy you havven't killed me yet."

"Because / st/\\ have use for you. As /t so happens, /'ve rec/eved word of a certa/n \eg/c\acerator has been tasked by none other than Her /mper/ous Condesces/on herse\f w/th f/nd/ng you. So," The captor cracked his knuckles, "/'m go/ng to need you \ook/ng your best." A quick fist to the solar plexus sent a series of body-racking coughs through his system, making a bit more violet blood hit the floor. A rather disgusted sound came from the aggressor. "/'m so g\ad /'m not wear/ng one of my n/ce su/ts today."

Still trying to regain lost breath, Eridan could do little more than glower up at the shadow of his tormentor. The fresh blood in his mouth only made him more thirsty, but his throat wouldn't work with him and swallow. Almost absentmindedly, the other seemed to reach the same conclusion Eridan already had. "Oh, that's r/ght. You sea-dwe\\ers need a b/t more water than the average tro\\, don't you?" A casual motion brought what felt like glass to his lips. The smell of salt grew stronger. Sea water. Proper sea water. Just out of his reach. "Beg."

Mustering all his remaining strength, Eridan thrashed around, knocking the glass from his hand, making it shatter on the ground. Its contents spattered on the ground and on the sea-dweller's feet. He would have killed for that water. But he wasn't about to beg for it. A sharp blow across his face was accompanied by a knee to his solar plexus, leaving him gasping for air again. A strangled "fuck you" was all he could manage between ragged breaths.

"Aga/n w/th the vu\gar/t/es." Another disgusted noise. "You pompus, /nso\ent, \/tt\e v/o\et b\ood." A calloused hand closed around Eridan's throat, lifting him off the ground. "You are so very \ucky that / can't afford to k/\\ you. But you can't afford to d/e e/ther. After a\\, what wou\d poor, \/tt\e Fefer/ Pe/xes th/nk? You can keep your pr/de, for now. But do that aga/n… And / w/\\ not hes/tate to k/\\ you. No matter how much you're worth."

Dropping him, Eridan grunted as his arms strained under the pressure of the chain keeping him standing. A second troll appeared and, with a nod from the first, went over and injected something into Eridan's arm. After a moment, the first spoke up again. "/f /t wasn't for the fact that / know you s/mp\y \ack the strength, / wou\d commend you on your obed/ence /n a\\ow/ng my assoc/ate to put you to s\eep.

In an instant, Eridan's head started to ache, his eyelids growing heavier, and his thoughts beginning to blur together. Another slurred "fuck you" slid from a mouth that didn't want to work, and he fell back into the black abyss once again.

As his head bowed, the first troll spoke up to the others. "Very we\\. Contact Ms. Pyrope."

"Yes, Mister Roquen."