Name : Eridan Ampora
Method of Death : Chainsawed in half by lipstick
Timeline Summary : Alpha – Eridan was lonely and attention-starved, killed two and a half people, and then was killed by one of them. He’s been mostly by himself post-death, which leads to a self-sufficiency concerning some of his more…unique health challenges. He’s run into a few non-alpha versions of his friends, but hasn’t made connections important enough for them to matter too much.
Blog url : http://perishedcaligula.tumblr.com/
Writing Sample :
They wander off.
It’s not really their fault – the nerves that connect your head and torso do not connect your torso and legs, and logically, you know this. You know that sewing the skin together, carefully soldering together the blood vessels and organs that no longer serve any purpose, and wiring your bones into place only serves to make it more painful and drastic when you wake up in the evening to find half of your body gone. You’ve ruined slime that way, shredded more shirts than you care to remember and undoubtedly given yourself ten thousand post-death infections (just because your body isn’t alive anymore doesn’t mean it can’t pretend, and complaining when there’s grit stuck between your intestines is one of its favorite ways of keeping up the illusion).
Sometimes they get stuck at your respiteblock’s door, and it’s not a big deal. They sit when you wake up, terminating their sentience the same time you terminate your dream, and you swing over to pick them up and reattach them to yourself.
Sometimes they make it miles, out a shattered window and into the bay to swim as long as that imaginary meowbeast is bearing down on you. From those sorts of deams, you wake up bleeding and cold, feeling a mysterious draft against a mysterious absence below your waist.
Sure, they can feel, but what good does feeling do when the dreambubble changes every time you have a stray thought? Mountains turn to sand, friends turn to enemies, and, in the worst cases, a lost half of a kidney turns into a seafloor exploration to kill the fish who ate it. Most of the time, there’s no point. You pull on your covering, swing around your ship, and live a legless life until someone comes along and pinches your knee to see if it’ll move.
More of your friends have gotten kicked in the face then you care to admit.
You’ve gotten good at interpreting writing by feel, listening through little messages scratched into your feet and thighs, responding by pulling off your shoes and inventorying the dirt and rubbing your blood on it if it’s just floor and writing back. You’d like to think you’ve gotten pretty good at it, but you’ll never see it, so you’ll never know. They always get you back, even if it takes days of your consciousness stuck in a blind, deaf, and dumb body to manage it. Then you sew yourself back together and start over.
It’s a bit of a futile battle, but it’s a good one to base your clock around.
So it’s only natural that, when you spawn in a new bay, the victim of a dreambubble merge in your sleep, you also spawn legless.
This is the beginning of a new era.
Are you ready?
Ships : I would like a flirtatious foundation (alliteration!) for Eridan <3< Sollux, but other than that I am pretty freeform.
