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[onthelii2p]

Who| Sollux & whoever!
What| Look at this nerd trying to train.
Where| The training center.
When| Late evening/early night? Like a day after his intro maybe.
Warnings/Notes| No warnings, but if you want me to not type out his lisp in replies to you, let me know and I can do so!

Believe it or not, you cannot sulk life's problems away. Sollux had tried after his initial, angry post to the network, having holed himself up his room for the majority of his time. Any trips out were quick, with district mates ignored (past the initial one Dave had drug him on), and to the point. He hadn't even left his floor yet. But the main problem remained.

He was stuck here, for worse - there was no 'for better' when he was subject to an impending murder game - and he had not the faintest clue how to get out of it. Had he his psionics, he was sure he could have blasted a way out and fled wherever the hell he wanted to. Instead, their absence left him with a cloying sense of weakness, of powerless futility.

It extended beyond his new living situation. Being stuck in a building with the other tributes was one thing, but what about when the so-called Hunger Games happened? He'd have nothing to fight with. No way to fly out of harm or catch anything headed his way, no lasers to blast or psychic powers to throw things for him. He'd have to rely on his own body, his own hands, and it felt fantastically hopeless to try to imagine them serving him well.

Still, if he went in without learning anything, it would help him no more.

It was that thought that on the second evening finally pushed him from floor nine. Grumbling, unhappy, he headed on down to the training center, where he... promptly shuffled around. He'd never used a weapon directly; he'd had no need. Heavy things were out of the picture. Projectiles might be easier, and under that line of thought he eventually found himself some throwing knives and a target. It was awkward: he was unpracticed, and aiming with an arm was a bit different from aiming things with his mind. It didn't help that being a psychic nerd didn't lead to much in the muscle department.

Ultimately he'd be hard to miss: grey skin couldn't be that normal, and even among trolls his eyes (one solid red, the other solid blue, behind matching shades) and double set of horns would stand out. Now and then a soft curse would hiss under his breath, sibilants marred by the lisp his large fangs caused.

Comments

[onthelii2p]

That? That was it? Sollux snorted as he unloaded the knives, and from there the sound grew into full on laughter.

"Oh my god, yeth," he snickered out. "Pin your proof on the one perthon who ithn't here to anthwer anything at all. I'm shivering in my hoof cathingth already. How hard do I have to kithh your athh to win merthy? I'm completely terrified, bro!"

Now he took a knife in hand and aimed. This was completely pathetic, and the boost in mood gave a boost in confidence. If Eridan couldn't even make a convincing lie to scare him with, why should he be worried about him at all? Now then--he threw quick and sharp.

"Yeth!" It landed short again, but the arc of flight was better, and it fell closer than what he'd thrown before.

[unconchonable]

"Ain't my fault that the only one who knows got herself locked up. Besides, who said I was tryin' to scare you with tellin's a what the future holds? Just statin' the facts, nothin' dramatic." He said with a nonchalant tone. Utterly unbothered by Sollux's reaction. What was there to be bothered by, really? Sollux was choosing to remain ignorant, so whatever. He'd find out soon enough.

"You know, though. You're relyin' on the fact you had a fluke against me with your powers to feel like you got any right to downtalk my abilities, but you don't got any now. An' I'we killed hundred, if not thousands a trolls who were far more worthy a their lot in life than you are--" he was interrupted as Sollux got owerly excited over missing the target again. How embarrassing.

"Anyway, point is this: there ain't nothin' protectin' you once we're in the arena, and I don't need a gun or powers to snap that twiggy neck a yours. No manner a trainin' will prepare you for what I will do, and what you'll be utterly helpless to stop."

(1/2)

[onthelii2p]

Sollux only half-listened as Eridan went on. It followed the line of what he expected: a bunch of empty to crap to fill him full of hot air. He put greater attention on what lay before him, taking another couple tosses in the meanwhile. The second managed to clip the bottom of the target.

Only once it sounded like Eridan had finished did Sollux look up.

"Do you hear thomething?" he asked, cocking his head, looking around. Knife out of his hands, he reached up to pluck off his shades as though to clear his vision. "It thoundth almotht like thomething buthhing, like a bunch of beeth..."

(2/2)

[onthelii2p]

He turned toward Eridan, looking down again to the glasses in his hands. "Becauthe all I hear," and he pushed them back on, "is a bunch of bee-ethh."

The grin on his face was no less than shit-eating.

(1/2)

[unconchonable]

Eridan watched Sollux as he acted like he heard something, really put into the performance too. Enough to make Eridan glance around too, but he didn't hear much more than the other people in the training area.Which, it would be weird, he thought, for Sollux to pick up something before him. Not that Sollux was hard of hearing, but Eridan's ears were particularly sensitive to sound vibrations thanks to his fins.

So when Sollux looked back to him, turning really, Eridan stared at him expectantly, waiting for some explanation--

(2/2)

[unconchonable]

He should have known.

Perhaps he did, somewhere in the back of his mind, know Sollux was trolling, and yet he fell for it like a fucking chump. It was almost more sad than Sollux's knife throwing attempts.

Without much to say, Eridan stared at Sollux for a few silent moments, looking utterly unimpressed, unamused, and done. But perhaps he wasn't quite done with Sollux, even if he was done with his stupid puns. In the next moment, Eridan was closing the distance between them, and with a swift horizontal arc of his hand, he aimed an open-palmed smack to Sollux's ugly, overcrowded mouth.

That was clearly the mature response here.

[onthelii2p]

Sollux, meanwhile dissolved into snickering. That pun was spot on. Eridan couldn't even reply, could he? That only added onto the hilarity, and unfortunately meant he didn't realize what was coming until it was too late to avoid it.

His head turned to the side, eyes squeezing shut in a wince. Did Eridan seriously just smack him over a joke? Was his precious ego that fragile? It wasn't that bad at its base, more a sharp sting and some crooked glasses than anything lasting, but the scale of the response struck him more. A growl built in his throat, and as he whipped back it came with a swing of his fist, aimed for his stupid finned face.

"Go fuck yourthelf!"

[unconchonable]

Spot on for someone with a lame sense of humor, maybe!

Regardless, Eridan was expecting a retaliation, it wasn't like the smack was strong enough to stun Sollux, so it was only natural. When Sollux flung that fist at him, Eridan was ready to move, though not quite fast enough. It caught his cheek just barely (hitting his fin more than anything), but still enough to hurt. With an audible csssssttt through fangs, Eridan reached out to grab at the front of Sollux's shirt, his other hand tightly curled into a fist. Ready to swing it whether he made purchase with his snatch or not.

Sollux wasn't about to get away with punching him like that, it was about time Eridan got to kick his worthless ass. Not that there wasn't a voice in the back of his head reminding him about the threat of the power rangers, and that he might get locked up if he wasn't too careful. But in this fit of boyrage anger, he wasn't caring all too much.

[onthelii2p]

Sollux didn't even try to dodge. As Eridan's hand closed on his shirt, he stepped forward, intending to slam his head forward in a headbutt. Instead he got a faceful of ring-bearing fist. He may as well have painted a welcome sign across his forehead for the good it did him.

The sound of pain was instant. His hands both came up, shoving, trying to push Eridan away as he pulled his head back. The rings had made the punch that much worse, giving more solid points of impact without accounting for the small cuts the sharper points had made. Worse, he could taste blood in his mouth from where his inner cheek had been forced up against his teeth.

"Fuck!" And for his trouble, Eridan might get sprayed with bloody spittle. "Get away from me!"

[unconchonable]

Oh how that hit was satisfying.

He was nearly grinning when his fist connected, not that it didn't hurt. A hard skull against his knuckles wasn't a good feeling for his hand, but it certainly fluffed his ego. Not that that needed any more fluffing.

As Sollux's hands came up, shoving at Eridan, he allowed himself to stumble back, getting a disgusting spray of revolting yellow blood on his shirt. He looked down at it in disgust, nose crinkling, but then he looked to Sollux, who had gotten out of his grasp.

Then he remembered the peacekeepers power rangers, and he decided that was enough for now.

"Fine, I got bigger ships to sink as is. We can finish this in the arena, where this sorta thing is proper." Kind of odd for Eridan to back down, but he knew the risks of continuing. He did know limits. Sometimes.

[onthelii2p]

Sollux backed up a step or two and rose his arms, forming his hands back into fists. His stance was poor, that of someone plainly unused to fist fights, but it didn't matter much to him. What did was how Eridan - stayed away from him? He wasn't going to strike again?

His posture tensed, not trusting him, then Eridan spoke.

Ah.

The arena. Of course. If they got too involved here, then what? Sollux knew he was fated to die a second time, but that didn't mean he wanted to rush it. His fists loosened and his arms lowered, and though his posture changed it remained defensive.

"Fine. The arena, then."

[unconchonable]

"I hope you'll be more prepared for your horn-handin' then. Better train up hard," Eridan gloated with due arrogance, "see you then, slime."

He watched Sollux for a moment, enjoying the view of the mustard blood being so jostled. His mind wandering to what he might look like once in the arena, once Eridan was able to serve him proper. It'd be like fine art, he figured.

With a grip on his cape, he turned dramatically, whirling his cape behind him. God he was such a badass, Sollux had no chance against him.

[onthelii2p]

Sollux snarled under his breath, but said no more. The fight was on hold and there was no further reason to drag it out. Still, he held his glare for as long as Eridan watched.

Did he really have to do a twirl with his cape, though? What a tool.

Still, this meant he was leaving, and once he was gone Sollux could refocus on what he'd been doing.