asgardeventide | 05 - Video of Equius Zahhak Sucking at Advertising

[Behold, it's a young, snaggle-toothed, gray-skinned guy in a black and blue tank-top wearing shades past sunset, one of his horns broken already. A few of you know him as the creepy afficianado of all things vaguely related to towels and archery. It's debatable whether or not he's particularly well-suited for either of these things, if we're being honest.

However, at the moment, there's grease smudges over his face and hands as he's wiping them off on a filthy looking towel. In the distance, a mewing sound that's vaguely humanoid can be heard.]

Yes, yes. I will inform the collective troglodytes and unwashed masses of this venture. Yes, that is a completely appropriate way to refer to them. They do not bathe nearly often enough and most of them do not have nearly enough towels.

[He sighs and grunts, half aware that he is already broadcasting and starting to sweat. He mops his forehead with the towel.

...

This just gets more grease smudges on him.]

As my employee Nepeta reminds me, it is wise to advertise the availability of new resources to some who might require them. I am Equius Zahhak, and this is Black and Blue. With the rise of such vehicular monstrosities as some of you claim to be accustomed to, I have familiarized myself with their inner-workings and the needs of the compressed detritus in liquified form that they require. [Pro Tip: He means gas.]

For all of your fuel and vehicular repair needs come to Black and Blue, where we will affix the necessary elements. Improvements and modifications are available on request, so long as I can get the parts. This world is incredibly back-water in terms of technologies, after all.

...

And Nepeta reminds me to say that there is plenty of ... candy in the front desk while you are waiting. She assures me it is delicious... repeatedly.

Come. I command it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Eww. Don't evver tell me about the fucked up things you an' Nep get up to, Equ. That's a line wwe don't need to evver fuckin' cross. Evver.

[Eridan scowls.]

You're right. Such things really don't matter any more.

Do not insinuate anything inappropriate about my moirail. She is a sweet creature with far too much fluff in her brain to be without protection and guidance from someone of proper rearing.

...

But it is odd we agree on something.

I'm not the one wwho just implied that their fuckin' moirail delivvered some extracurricular corporal punishment, noww am I?

A' course wwe agree. Only a idiot wwould confuse this place wwith Alternia.

No, you are the one who read that in...

And yes. I suppose there is a certain truth to that. For one, we all appear to be day dwellers in this place.

Yeah. An' don't I fuckin' hate it. I still try not to go out much in the day. Habits, I guess. They die fuckin' hard.

[A lot of habits die hard. And some he's not willing to let go of.]

I am wondering if it is time to kill them, or if doing so removes too much of what and who I am. It is a difficult consideration. I will be thinking on it, as should you Sea-Dweller.

...

Not that I am dropping our natural rivalries. That would simply be imprudent.

Don't presume to tell me wwhat to fuckin' do, Equ. But I'll... take that advvice into consideration.

[He shrugs, a hint of a grin ghosting over his lips.]

Good. I don't think I wwant evverythin' changin'.

I don't think I'm capable of changing that much. Just as we were bred for greater rage, we were bread for rigidity in outlook. It is the lesser breeds that seem to have the free-est thought with rare exception.

Yeah. ... A feww exceptions.

[Like Feferi. It was the main wedge between her and Eridan. The fact that he couldn't overlook the hemospectrum and their superiority, and she was willing to throw it all away.]

You knoww, you'll probably think I'm out a' my think pan for askin', but do you evver wwonder wwhat'd it be like bein' a lowwblood?

Never. What an offensive, revolting thing to consider. I try not to use my time considering their natures overmuch. Aradia is an exception, but she is an exception to many things about the lowbloods.

[All the time. He kind of obsessed about it at times in an erotic fixation.]

It wwas just a fuckin' question, Equ. Don't get your cerulean panties in a knot.

[He shrugs, trying not to show just how seriously he's thought about that very question.]

I mean. I guess it'd be a lot fuckin' easier, y'knoww. Not near as much responsibility. Not that I'd evver fuckin' consider a' thing like that.

Of course not. You and I are nobility. Such concerns are beneath us.

...

Clearly.

A' course. So far beneath us it's laughable to evven consider. Wwhich is wwhy wwe can, y'knoww. Because wwe'd nevver actually swwitch places wwith them.

[Except, sometimes... Eridan thinks he would. But he pushes those traitorous thoughts aside.]

Of course not. I would sweat veritable rivers. However, hypotheticals cannot hurt too much...

No, not at all. No harm in just wonderin'.

[Oh, these two. And their belief in De Nile just being a river in Egypt.]

[The scary part was that this was an improvement for the two fo them.]

Still, it can only go so far. Hypotheticals could be appreciated until all the day was wasted. There is nevertheless work to do, is there not?

Like fuckin' wwhat Equ? There's nothin' to do here wworthwwhile.

Selling compressed animal corpses and repairing these vehicles to stay in practice before the establishment of an army of destructive capacities the likes of which these fools have never seen seems an excellent use of my time.

Wwell not all a' us are fit for such... manual labor.

Your skills were always better served in hunting. Myself, I've always been very gifted with my hands and technical matters.

An' there's not a lot to fuckin' hunt here. At least not wwithout invvitin' the wwrath a' those gods.

You could always practice on the range in preparation of slaughtering the giants.

Practicin' on a range isn't the same fuckin' thing as actual huntin'. You think you wwoulda learned that from your moirail.

She prefers the tactile sensation of something crumbling under her grip and clawing. Besides, it may not be the same, but it is at the least something

Somethin' boring. Wwhat's the point in shoot targets that can't fuckin' fight back?

[He is supremely bored. And itching for another real battle.]

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