I have this thing when I write Eridan about giving a lot of unnecessary details because I love him so much and I can see every detail of what I write. You'll have to forgive me for that.
Thanks to BlOo KiSsEs for your review to last chapter! (Are people used to me updating every two weeks? WOULD THAT GIVE YOU MORE TIME TO REVIEW?)
The one thing Eridan liked about being at Cronus's apartment during the day was Cronus not actually being home. Sure, the place still stank like him and his weed, and there was the other traces of Cronus's presence, but the man himself wasn't there, and that was always enough to make Eridan breathe a little easier.
His fingers itched to pull the trigger on a bottle of Febreeze he had stashed in his wardrobe but he had no doubt that his brother would come home and be pissed. Something about "messing with the vibe" or some other capricious bullshit that no doubt made sense to Cronus but no one else. Letting out a sigh of resignation, he went to his room and deposited his bag on his bed.
He gathered up his towel and a clean change of clothes (not even his jeans had escaped the fallout from the soda; his pant legs stuck to his thighs uncomfortably) and cast a considering glance around his room. The one window he had in his room had his desk wedged right underneath it. There was enough of a sill on the window to line up a number of books he'd read at least a dozen times, but there was still a solid three feet of space left. He'd been trying to decide for awhile what to do with that extra space but now, as he sat at the edge of his bed and just looked for a minute, he realized he wanted a fish tank there. He could probably keep about three or four fish in there comfortably, and they'd be safe by themselves for the weekends, providing Cronus didn't break into his room and try to poison them.
That thought gave him pause. His brother wasn't a malicious asshole, but sometimes he did things when he was stoned that he ended up regretting later on. Eridan chewed on his lip, but he'd already gotten his heart set on a couple of fish.
I can bring them home on weekends. Get my own tank there. That way he won't kill them. During the day he wouldn't be so worried—Cronus had his own schedule and usually got home around a half an hour before him. That wasn't a huge window of time for him to get to a mind-altering state where he destroyed things. Besides, he really hadn't displayed a tendency to go into his room anyway. It would work.
After a far shorter shower than he would have liked (only twenty minutes instead of his typical hour, although not that much of him was sticky with soda, so he didn't need to scrub his whole body), he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed straight to the mirror. He frowned at his hair (every day it seemed like he saw more of his brown roots, and yeah, they weren't really noticeable to anyone but him except where the purple streak was, but that was the point—he dyed his hair because he wanted to, not because anyone else thought it was cool) and dried it off as quickly as he could before haphazardly restyling it. He shimmied into his change of clothes and exited the bathroom, dropping his soda-messed apparel into his laundry basket. He considered fishing out another scarf from his wardrobe but decided against it. He didn't want to risk Captor trying to ruin another one.
He'd swapped out his black T-shirt for a purple-and-blue plaid patterned one (he didn't typically wear plaid or flannel, but it was a button-down and he'd been in a rush to just style his hair and get dressed without fucking it up, so plaid button-down shirt it was) and his blue jeans for black ones, and it looked like this was as good as it was going to get. Besides, after a heart-stopping glance at his phone's clock, he realized he only had twenty minutes before his next class. It would take at least ten minutes to get to school and another five to find somewhere to park, so the odds of him being on time were slim to none.
He shoved his glasses back onto his face and headed out the door.
He was right about being late for class. Two minutes before class started, he was just pulling into a parking spot near the building his class was in—in this case, "near" being a word that meant "separated by five hundred yards of grass, two awkward rock sculptures, and one particularly garish gazebo." He knew he would never make that distance in two minutes unless he dashed, and he had his computer and his camera in his bag to worry about. Nope, no sense jostling the electronics in his mad dash to avoid futility.
The walk, however, afforded him ample time to plot his revenge on a certain bespectacled computer nerd. The first idea that came to mind was stealing Captor's laptop, but this seemed to be in poor taste considering the first act of war hadn't involved thievery and he didn't want this to escalate to nuclear proportions within hours. No, he'd save that for when he'd done something to really piss him off, like slash his tires (although he doubted Sollux had the upper-body strength for that).
His second idea was finding some way to break his glasses, although, again, it seemed like trying to kill a fly with a crossbow. Besides, the retaliation for that might end up being the destruction of his own glasses, and there was literally no way in Hell he could drive if he didn't have his glasses. That wouldn't do, either.
He wondered if Karkat would help him think of something, but he rejected the prospect almost immediately. Karkat was Sollux's friend, and besides, revenge wouldn't be as sweet if it had come from someone else's idea.
Sweet. An idea began brewing at the back of his head. He'd seen Sollux empty nearly half of that bear full of honey into his tea... He'd have to monitor closely, but he was pretty sure he didn't see anyone near it besides him. That could afford an interesting possibility for retribution.
By the time he sidled through the door to his photography class, he had the beginnings of a well-laid plan mapped out in his head. He just needed another day or two to implement it.
He slunk into the classroom a solid eight minutes after the start of class. After an apologetic wave at his professor, he took a seat near the back and pulled out his computer. He glanced up briefly to see one of his classmates giving him a puzzled look. He mouthed, "What?" at her and waited as she scribbled something on a sheet of paper, folded it over several times, and passed it to the student behind her with a curt nod in Eridan's direction.
You Appear To Have Had A Change In Wardrobe Since I Saw You Last.
He let out an exasperated scoff and hunched over the paper. Someone thought it wwas—damn it, his hand shook so badly it doubled his Ws; it was bad enough he stuttered in real life, but he didn't need to do it in text, too—funny to spill soda on me during lunch. I had to go home an change. He folded the sheet up again and passed it back.
The response came a few minutes later, after their teacher finished collecting the projects they'd been assigned the previous Wednesday. I Would Assume This Is The Reason For Your Tardiness?
You assume right. But it's no big deal since I'm plottin my revvenge—fuck, he did it again!—as I wwrite—he was really going to have to work on his penmanship; this was just ridiculous—this. It'll be cold an just.
When the reply skittered onto his desk nearly ten minutes later, he was half-asleep and only pretending to be working on their next assignment. Excellent. I Congratulate You And Applaud Your Cunning. I Wish You The Greatest Of Fortune In Your Endeavors.
He smirked, letting out a snort of laughter that, fortunately, he had the presence of mind to muffle into his collar and pass off as a sneeze. He shoved the note into his back pocket and tried to wake himself up, but it was proving more difficult than he'd hoped.
Eridan typically had mental crashes around this time, but he also normally was able to stop at Starbucks (or the campus coffee shop, if he was pressed for time) and pick up some caffeine, so it wasn't usually this big of a problem. The last time he'd had any coffee was this morning, though, and he was ready for either a nap or another shot of espresso. Hell, he was almost desperate enough to get a bottle of soda out of the vending machines even though it was his personal policy to avoid any drinks besides water or coffee-related ones. He didn't even drink tea—not enough of a jolt for him. There was a reason he brewed his coffee with twice the typical concentration (causing Cronus to either gag or water it down with about eight creamers). No matter how much sleep he got every night, he needed caffeine around two-thirty in the afternoon.
How the Hell was he expected to function right now when he could barely keep his eyes open?
He blinked slowly, the whiteboard at the front of the room drifting in and out of focus, when out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw a familiar yellow shirt. He was immediately alert, focusing his gaze in the direction he thought he saw Captor, but either he'd simply imagined the other boy, or Sollux had absconded surprisingly quickly. Eridan nearly groaned in frustration.
However, the imagined or actual presence of the guy who was quickly becoming his arch-rival (at least in his own head) had shaken him awake. Now, at least, he had an idea of how to keep himself conscious. As he plugged his camera into his laptop and started up Photoshop, he began simmering his plan for taking revenge. By the time class was dismissed at four, he had a fully-formed plan and an execution day of Wednesday.
Sollux Captor wouldn't know what hit him. At first.
After class, the first thing he did was head for the school coffee shop and get the largest, most caffeinated drink they had. Coffee in hand, he went back to his car and parked in front of the building that Feferi's last class of the day was in to wait for her. Normally, he had to wait a half an hour or so, but his trip across campus and subsequent wait shaved twenty-five minutes off his wait time. He'd only had a few swigs of coffee when the door popped open and she slid in, tossing her backpack into the backseat. "Hey, Eridan!" Then she got a good look at his clothes and the coffee and shot him a confused look. "What the glub happened to you?"
"I had to go home an' show-wer an' change my clothes. It made me late for class so I couldn't get my coffee."
She sighed. "It wasn't that much soda, fish," she said, "fish" being a nickname for him that she only used when she was trying to be gentle. "You would have been fin—fine," she corrected herself, shooting a small smile at him in apology.
"It w-was in my hair," he snapped. He immediately regretted his harsh tone when she glanced down at her lap. "Sorry," he murmured. "I'm just a li'l annoyed is all. I'm not mad at you."
"You had it coming," Feferi chided gently, affectionately ruffling his hair.
He didn't agree with her and he didn't like people touching his hair when it had product in it, but he closed his eyes and let himself enjoy it anyway. She didn't seem to hate him; they were still friends. He briefly considered bringing up the "I like you as more than friends" conversation he'd been meaning to have with her, but decided against it at the last minute. It wasn't the right time, and he still wasn't ready to lose her for good if she didn't feel the same way. It might actually kill him.
"I guess," he mumbled in a way meant to be placating, but she saw through it immediately.
"No," she said firmly.
"No, w-what?" He started his car and put it in drive, buckling up his seat belt to avoid looking at her.
"You better not be planning some kind of revenge trick on him!"
"Hadn't ev-ven crossed my mind," he said lightly.
She crossed her arms over her chest and settled back into her seat. "Alright, whale..." She giggled for a moment and then cleared her throat, her tone becoming serious. "You remember Vriska Serket?"
Automatically, his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Did he remember her? Of course he did. Hoping his face didn't betray his emotions, he nodded quickly.
"Whale, I found out from someone today that she's transferring here."
He didn't know how he managed to speak with the lump in his throat. "W-when?"
"Not sure. Soon, I think. Probably in the next bubble of weeks."
"Ah. How-w did you find out?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice neutral, but he was pretty sure his stutter was starting to betray him.
"One of her ex-boyfronds was very upset and he explained it to me."
"Not surprised. She's bad new-ws."
Fef nodded. "I think things are about to get very interesting around here."
I still can't write fish puns to save my life, so have some shitty ones.
