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“It’s hard, Tav,” Eridan complained, leaning on the brownblood currently sitting on his couch in his hive. “How I gotta keep killin’ these damn things or I’ll be angel food. It’s hard and nobody understands.”
“I, uh, understand,” Tavros said, quite untruthfully. His land was peaceful, and he could commune with his consorts anyway. It seemed right to agree with the seatroll though.
“No you don’t Tav, stop bein’ such a pushover that just agrees with everyone.”
“Ok, I don’t, understand, at all, why you need to, uh, kill angels all the time,” he admitted.
“Because, Tav, they would just as soon kill me. It’s self-defense, you see?”
“But, didn’t you, start it, what with the, uh, blasting away at, the angels every chance, you get?”
“Preemptive self-defense.”
“…That’s not, how self-defense works.”
“Tav, a’ course that’s how self-defense works,” Eridan scoffed, bumping his shoulder against his moirail’s.
“If, you say so.”
“No! You’re not supposed to give in, you’re supposed to keep pressin’ your point! Do I have ta do evverythin’ in this relationship?”
Tavros stifled a laugh and put on his best stern face. “Ok, uh, Eridan, that is most definitely, not how self-defense works.”
“Gettin’ better,” Eridan said critically. He was about to give more advice when a crash somewhere up above alerted him to the fact those damn angels had broken in again.
“LET’S GO SUMMONER WE GOTTA CODE 2 HERE,” he shouted, jumping up and grabbing his trusty Ahab’s Crosshairs.
“Aye, aye, uh, Dualscar,” Tavros replied cheerfully, hefting his lance and following his moirail. It was an odd relationship they had but it seemed to work.