:o)

   “What’s motherfuckin’ this, then?” The massive figure turned at the sound of approaching footsteps – calm, secure footsteps. The Makara isn’t used to that, at all. All of the footsteps he’s used to hearing are shaky, frightened, and uncertain. There are very few people who could approach him with an even gait.

   Somehow, it’s almost…comforting. And what he sees is even more comforting. Far more comforting. Miraculously comforting.

     honk.

     HONK.

   If his eyes weren’t betraying him, and they very rarely betrayed him…this was a little motherfuckin’ Subjugglator. And not only that, but something about him seemed very, very familiar.

Fucking bless this encounter. 

Oho...your eyes glinted with that purple hue as you could not contain yourself. No--you had to ‘speak’ to this fellow. 

     ‘HONK. You are quite correct in that aspect, and if I am to assume that you are as well, then this is a motherfucking miracle.’

     ‘PRAISE BE TO THE WICKED TRUTH. A-FUCKING-MEN. I DON’T NEED TO SPEAK IN ORDER FOR THE FOOLS TO BE ENLIGHTENED. MOTHERFUCKING RADICAL YOU SAY? HAH. ITS RADICAL ONLY WHEN THE WALLS ARE PAINTED IN A PLETHORA OF COLORS.’

     honk

     HONK. HONK. 

:o)

:o)

     ‘I AM THE MOTHERFUCKING SUBJUGGLATOR KURLOZ MAKARA. I SPEAK NO EVIL, BUT I SPREAD THE GOSPEL TRUTH. HONK HONK, MOTHERFUCKER.’

Oh how you were enjoying this. Perhaps if this one was here, then this city wouldn’t be so boring, hmm? Anything to stop this motherfucking dull boredom that was this placid peace. The city was overpopulated, in your opinion. 

amiraclemodus

You would slowly raise your hand to the other, and curl all your fingers in save the middle, an a gesture anyone could understand. Hell, you even reached to them telepathically to admonish them. 

And boy were you in for a treat. You would gaze upon the other, your smile not fading once. In actuality, if your mouth was not bound together, you’d be laughing so much your sides would split. 

Now that would be a motherfucking miracle. 

     honk.

     HONK. 

You would approach, raising your hand in greeting. You wanted to physically speak so bad, but fuck that. 

A-fucking-men to this larger troll’s words, however.  

        “Yep, there it is. Whale, damn. An’ here I thought we was gonna have an actual conversation. Whodda fuckin’ thought! Shella mind blowing if you axe me.”

        She let out a sigh and crossed her arms under her chest. Tilting her head a bit, she glanced off to somewhere else. It was always awkward with this one. Why did it have to be this way?

     <Axing? How barbaric. I like it. However, I’ve no means to do what I wish, so I am content to remain here within this city.>

     <After all, watching these humans fight amongst themselves is entertaining in its own right. I don’t even have to lift a finger, so to ‘speak’.>  

     “I like the way you think.”

At the first comment you would nod, but at the second, you would reach to the other’s mind to speak to them, in a sense. 

     ‘WHY BE BOTHERED BY CULLING? I’VE KILLED ‘BROTHERS’ AND ‘SISTERS’ AND PAINTED THE WALLS WITH THEIR MOTHERFUCKING BLOOD.’

     Although he spoke, to a degree, monotonously, there was a clear mocking twist to the Joker’s words.

     HONK.

You were amused, oh so very. Who was dead? You don’t care. Was this a day for culling? Wouldn’t that be a miracle?

And yet you have no idea what a sibling is, so the only thing you can so is grin at the other and shrug. 

     It had been a few weeks since he had particularly spoken to… well, anyone. Last time he did, he went on a grand adventure through some dungeon or whatever with a certain other troll and got away with at least a quarter of the share. Not bad, considering all things. Hell, you even managed to buy a gun.

     Not too shabby, really! It felt nice having a rifle in your hands again. Even if it was a piece of shit compared to your legendary, totally NOT a piece of shit Ahab’s Crosshairs. Things were going relatively fine for Eridan.

     And yet, it all had started feeling somewhat… dull.

“…”

     Bored out of his mind, the troll watched various passers-by from a distance through the scope of his rifle, sitting in a tree of some unnamed park.

     Honestly, he had the itch to just shoot someone right now. Maybe that’d be fun. Watching the chaos unfold, and whatnot. … But Eridan relented, suppressing his violent urges. And with a sigh, he leaned back– gazing up in to the canopy above him, storing his weapon back in his strife deck.

“ugh”

Well, if they kept bugging you, you supposed you’d learn about the human’s blood caste soon enough, if they had one. It would be so simple to wrap your hands around their neck and...

What was that? Unless trees could talk, there was someone over you. You would look up and...a troll? Certainly not one you recognized, that’s for sure. Being unable to speak aloud, how were you to get their attention?

...You supposed that using your mind would work just fine, this once. 

     '...HONK.’

So you actually said something, huh? Well, if you were physically able to, you’d laugh right in her face, but no. 

You were a simple speaker with no means to speak except with your hands, and occasionally...your mind. That worked differently now, too, as you recall. Interesting...interesting. At first, the only way you decide to reply to her is to put op your hands in a gesture of a shrug, but that would only tell so much. 

But do you decide to grace her with your sign language again? You simply give that dead eyed stare of yours his smile now the mildest of frowns.