I'm perfectly sane, you see. I always have been. I always will be. Whatever the others out there tell you is assuredly a lie, and therefore I suppose it falls once more to me to correct their mistakes. Now, where to begin...
Actually, I suppose it's starting this tale that's simple. I'll simply begin at the beginning, and when I reach the end, I'll stop. The rest is just the horrorterrors and their details, you see, nothing too terribly important after all.
Let me assure you once more that I'm perfectly in control of all my mental faculties, and there is nothing to this tale that was not reasoned through extensively ahead of time. With that out of the way, shall we begin? ----- It all started with Kanaya, dear sweet elegant hideous Kanaya. She'd rented a movie for us to see, one of those ones with the terribly long Alternian titles that give away the plot anyway and spoil the reason to watch them in the first place. But I would humour her this once. Because I love her, and that's simply the sort of thing you do when you love someone-- not that I'd expect you to understand, of course.
It was going quite well for a while. The sexy, mysterious rainbow drinker was carefully seducing the rustblooded peasant girl, and Kanaya was draped over my lap like a bony blanket that occasionally squirmed. And then Vriska of all people had to show up, pulling Kanaya away from me without so much as a how do you do, leaving me to watch the movie with only myself and the ever-present horrorterrors for company. Since I didn't actually care about the movie, you see, this got old fast.
Thinking back on it, I'm certain this wasn't the first time I'd had these thoughts, these festertongued whispers in my mind, but this was the first opportunity I'd had to act on them. To take out my Thorns and stroll out to the kitchen, to wrap my arm around Kanaya's waist, and to carefully blow Vriska's head off. It was justified, of course. Justified by the fact that Kanaya was my matesprit, and mine alone.
I don't like to share, you see. And so she might have protested a little, maybe cried sickeningly jade tears, but she knew what she'd done was wrong (that she was mine) and Vriska had deserved everything she'd gotten. We finished the rest of the movie, and I pressed her mouth to my neck and held it there to muffle her sobs, so that she had no choice but to drink and drink until she choked on my alien blood. The world was bone-white and bloody and awful, her fangs slipping in my neck and her tears hot and acid-stinging, and the next thing I knew, well, I was here.
It was wrong of her, to ask them to lock me up like this. I haven't done anything wrong, you see. It isn't my fault I just got so angry-- it was all Vriska's. Vriska's, and Kanaya's, that grotesque terrible woman I can't help but love so much I want to tear her to shreds.
FILL: TEAM Eridan <3< Vriska
Actually, I suppose it's starting this tale that's simple. I'll simply begin at the beginning, and when I reach the end, I'll stop. The rest is just the horrorterrors and their details, you see, nothing too terribly important after all.
Let me assure you once more that I'm perfectly in control of all my mental faculties, and there is nothing to this tale that was not reasoned through extensively ahead of time. With that out of the way, shall we begin?
-----
It all started with Kanaya, dear sweet elegant hideous Kanaya. She'd rented a movie for us to see, one of those ones with the terribly long Alternian titles that give away the plot anyway and spoil the reason to watch them in the first place. But I would humour her this once. Because I love her, and that's simply the sort of thing you do when you love someone-- not that I'd expect you to understand, of course.
It was going quite well for a while. The sexy, mysterious rainbow drinker was carefully seducing the rustblooded peasant girl, and Kanaya was draped over my lap like a bony blanket that occasionally squirmed. And then Vriska of all people had to show up, pulling Kanaya away from me without so much as a how do you do, leaving me to watch the movie with only myself and the ever-present horrorterrors for company. Since I didn't actually care about the movie, you see, this got old fast.
Thinking back on it, I'm certain this wasn't the first time I'd had these thoughts, these festertongued whispers in my mind, but this was the first opportunity I'd had to act on them. To take out my Thorns and stroll out to the kitchen, to wrap my arm around Kanaya's waist, and to carefully blow Vriska's head off. It was justified, of course. Justified by the fact that Kanaya was my matesprit, and mine alone.
I don't like to share, you see. And so she might have protested a little, maybe cried sickeningly jade tears, but she knew what she'd done was wrong (that she was mine) and Vriska had deserved everything she'd gotten. We finished the rest of the movie, and I pressed her mouth to my neck and held it there to muffle her sobs, so that she had no choice but to drink and drink until she choked on my alien blood. The world was bone-white and bloody and awful, her fangs slipping in my neck and her tears hot and acid-stinging, and the next thing I knew, well, I was here.
It was wrong of her, to ask them to lock me up like this. I haven't done anything wrong, you see. It isn't my fault I just got so angry-- it was all Vriska's. Vriska's, and Kanaya's, that grotesque terrible woman I can't help but love so much I want to tear her to shreds.
Except I don't think I love her anymore.
I think I'll hate her instead.