capeandcowl | video;

[the feed is underwater, and not immediately focused on eridan (though his cape does drift slightly into view here and there). few, if any, will recognize the atlantean palace or its throne room, but the architecture and the being underwater thing might tip them off.]

Considerin' it's been about a week or so now, and I hawen't seen skin nor scale a her, it's pretty safe to say that Namora a Atlantis ain't roamin' these waters no more.

[a pause.]

That bein' said, as the last sea dweller and the only indiwidual who ain't got garbage slippin' through their weins around here, it's only natural that I take ower their palace and assorted territories in their absence. Maintain 'em and such.

Aforementioned territories bein' all sewen seas and ewerythin' in between, for the record.

[he flips the camera away from a meandering lionfish (his name is xerxes the sewenth) and to himself, comfortably sprawled in namor's throne. and being smug as a motherfucker. like literally, he's been super smug about shit before but at the moment his smugness may be mutating surrounding sealife just by how goddamn potent it is.

the lay of his cape obscures the slight bulges under his clothing at his shoulder and leg, for the most part, but his left fin is visibly torn, and still an angry purple.]

As fair and generous warnin', I'm allowin' the humans continued usage a my oceans not outta goodwill, but outta necessity. Mostly since you lungbreathers would probably start whinin' your tailfins off about widespread starwation or some shit if I didn't. But if I start seein' anythin' I don't necessarily like happenin' in my waters, I won't hesitate to fuck some a your laughable tin can ships all manner a up 'til the message starts comin' through clearer-like.

I ain't currently acceptin' wirgin sacrifices or tributes a precious metals and stones, but be watchin' for that in the future.

[he gives a little wave of his ringed fingers at the comm.]

Ewenin', dirtscrapers. And long liwe the Prince.

[end feed.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah, if I know where I'm going.

...Maybe I oughta come up. Or come close, whatewer.

The sharks are kinda heawy lately.

["SINCE I'VE BEEN BLEEDING ALL OVER THE PLACE]

Sure thing.

Docks sound alright?

Be there in a bit.

[it's about thirty, forty minutes later that she arrives. the City, like most of its ilk, has a whole line of docks to accommodate the volume of sea freight. probability being what it is, she's nowhere near the attempted-murder dock.]

[give him five, ruka, and then he's climbing up onto the nearest dock with minimal difficulty. the cape is soaked and heavy (it was only there for image anyway); he unclasps it and lets it fall to the dock with a waterlogged whumph, before scanning the area and spotting her.

when he does, he waves her over, leaning up against a wooden post for support. swimming in his condition is exhausting.]

[she crosses with a short jog, the leftover irritation melting to a more obvious expression of worry.

nobody knows physical exhaustion and pushing past the limits of the body quite like Ruka; the way he leans his weight, the way he stands...

she unbuttons the hands of her gloves and slips them into the sleeves, leaving them exposed when she reaches out.

no need to get them soaked if she doesn't have to.]

Eridan...

[as soon as she comes close enough to make out detail, he stands up and plays it off like momentary tiredness. his movements are still stiff, but he gives no direct show of discomfort.]

I ain't half as bad off as I look, for the record.

[he gives a slight incline of his head to the left, motioning to his fin.]

So, still pretty bad. [it's hard to tell if she's teasing or not, speaking as she looks him over. her attention of course lingers on the visible injury, that torn, angry fin, but it doesn't stay there for long.

her hand moves to bump his hand, still damp from the water; a subdued offer of comfort.] Do you want to tell me here, or should we go?

Here. [a pause. he glances out, searching for anyone else who may be in eavesdropping range.] Definitely here.

[satisfied, he sits down on the end of the dock and gestures to the spot beside him.]

Now, you gotta promise me you ain't goin' to do anythin' rash when I tell you. And that you ain't tellin' anybody else.

[she follows his lead, letting her legs dangle off its edge, above the water. at the seriousness of his tone, Ruka tilts her head, weighing the possibilities.]

I promise. [biting her lip, adding:] But if you deserve it, I'm reserving the right to push you into the water.

Oh shit, I better not let that happen.

[he smiles briefly, pulling his glasses off and rubbing the water droplets off them with his cape.]

I tried to kill Ed the other day.

[for a moment, it almost seems like she didn't hear him. she doesn't react, not at first, but slow seconds tick by and she turns her head.

there's a different quality to a deadpan stare done with only one eye, but there's still no mistaking the intent.]

... Why?

[he doesn't make eye contact. whether it's from embarrassment at his obvious lack of results or not is unclear.]

He pissed me off bad enough, I guess.

[it's embarrassing now, realizing just how consumed he was by his scheme. weeks flying by and he has nothing to say about them now but "I kept busy".]

I lured him down here - not here here, somewhere off in that direction maybe - and I came real close to drownin' him. Real close; he was literally turnin' blue, Ru. I could of done it if I'd of just left him there. Wouldn't ewen of got my gills dirty.

[he pauses. that glasses wiping isn't doing shit.]

But I couldn't.

[it's not a difficult plan to follow, and the strategy is sound enough. light doesn't hold much advantage underwater. if she were being honest with herself—which wasn't often—he could have succeeded and now been telling her about watching Nygma's life expire, and she would probably feel less surprised than she does now.

though it was kind of funny, in a cruel sort of way.]

Do you still want to? [she reaches to take the glasses from hands. let her, idiot, her clothes are actually dry.] Kill him.

[he relinquishes the glasses without complaint, and watches his hands.]

He told me he was proud a me. How close I got, all a the shit I went through to get to that point.

[wait, that isn't an answer. but there are some things he wants to keep to himself, even to the exclusion of ruka; the mentoring, the deal they cut on violet streaked sands.]

I don't know. Maybe. Probably ain't an option anyway, now that he knows I'll actually do it.

I don't recommend it, but it's always an option, really. [the clean edge of her sleeve gently wipes off the lenses, front and back. it's strange, how calm her end of the conversation has gotten. it's too light for attempted murder, isn't it?

she's trying not to think about ruffled fabric and a man laying strangled on a cold floor, or the sweat-stained cotton of Katurian's mask, or the heaviness behind her eye patch.

she offers back the glasses.]

Do you think he'll retaliate?

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