(I hope this is what you meant by Metropolis---- this fill will be 100% better if you've watched Fritz Lang's Metropolis)
You were the head, he was the hands.
You were never meant to meet, but lolly-gagging with your waves of topless Biblical bitches got boring, and you followed him into depths unsuitable for even your right pinky toe. You stood out awkwardly amongst the workers in the tired tunnels, but all of them ignored your scent when Jake started preaching about equality. His words were like huge rubber bullets shooting through rock. Unbelievably powerful, but he was no orator. Not like you.
Loneliness had crept up on you and overtook you at the top of your city. Your friends were superfluous and would betray you for a mediocre sloe gin. When you watched him that day in the rocks, you fell into a blissful state hampered by greed, wanting to take him and pap him until your shallow, wealthy skin fell away.
You had a long adventure. Stories for another time and day, stories about robot clones, lost loves, and barren prostitution. At the end, you two had become something different.
No longer the head. No longer the hands. You are both the heart. The sweet tie between the proletariat and skankily rich.
So, here you wait. In your airship teetering to the Tower of Babel. The boy who loved firearms but spoke against them sits shotgun.
Jake tells you he loves the song. You do too. There's silence between you as you look at the journey ahead. Your last bit of freedom --a joy ride allotted to you-- before you fall into responsibility and fulfil your ever beating role.
"What do you say we get going, old chap?" he grins.
"I don't want this trip to ever fucking end," you say. "We'll be working for equality until the day we die, and for what?"
"This trip wont end, Eridan," he says, lightly tapping your hand. "The road ahead will last forever if we want it to. Even when we return, there are plenty of new, boot-buckling adventures waiting for us!"
You check the propeller one last time, then ride the wind into new heights.
FILL: TEAM JADE<3KARKAT
You were the head, he was the hands.
You were never meant to meet, but lolly-gagging with your waves of topless Biblical bitches got boring, and you followed him into depths unsuitable for even your right pinky toe. You stood out awkwardly amongst the workers in the tired tunnels, but all of them ignored your scent when Jake started preaching about equality. His words were like huge rubber bullets shooting through rock. Unbelievably powerful, but he was no orator. Not like you.
Loneliness had crept up on you and overtook you at the top of your city. Your friends were superfluous and would betray you for a mediocre sloe gin. When you watched him that day in the rocks, you fell into a blissful state hampered by greed, wanting to take him and pap him until your shallow, wealthy skin fell away.
You had a long adventure. Stories for another time and day, stories about robot clones, lost loves, and barren prostitution. At the end, you two had become something different.
No longer the head. No longer the hands. You are both the heart. The sweet tie between the proletariat and skankily rich.
So, here you wait. In your airship teetering to the Tower of Babel. The boy who loved firearms but spoke against them sits shotgun.
You turn on the radio.
Jake tells you he loves the song. You do too. There's silence between you as you look at the journey ahead. Your last bit of freedom --a joy ride allotted to you-- before you fall into responsibility and fulfil your ever beating role.
"What do you say we get going, old chap?" he grins.
"I don't want this trip to ever fucking end," you say. "We'll be working for equality until the day we die, and for what?"
"This trip wont end, Eridan," he says, lightly tapping your hand. "The road ahead will last forever if we want it to. Even when we return, there are plenty of new, boot-buckling adventures waiting for us!"
You check the propeller one last time, then ride the wind into new heights.