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Eridan Ampora

"I'm not vvery wwell goin' to kill you, am I? That wwould be fuckin' unconscionable."

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a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by CrashQueen

Description

ImageYour name is ERIDAN AMPORA

Flowing through your veins is nearly the richest blood the hemospectrum has to offer, penultimate on the scale. As such, you are a SEA DWELLER, a sub-race of troll distinct from the commoners by mutation and habitat, a caste which rules over the entire species.

But ruling, in your view, is not enough. You have an overpowering GENOCIDE COMPLEX, and have made it your sworn duty to KILL ALL LAND DWELLERS. You have amassed resources and deadly weaponry from around the world for this ambition through many sweeps of EXTREME ROLE PLAYING, while pursuing a working DOOMSDAY DEVICE which will bring armageddon to all those on the surface. Haven't had much luck with that, but maybe tonight's your night.

You hold a fascination for MILITARY HISTORY AND LEGENDARY CONQUERORS. You have dubiously modeled your profile and exploits after the most notorious figures and their stories, which are bristling with the GLORY OF VICTORY and the STING OF DEFEAT and POLITICAL MACHINATIONS and ROMANTIC INTRIGUE. It is an image you are careful to craft through EXAGGERATED EMOTIONAL THEATRICS, and your penchant for mass murder notwithstanding, people tend to regard you as a BIT OF A TOOL.

You also like MAGIC, even though you know it to be FAKE. Like a made up friend, the way wizards are. Made up make believe FAKEY FAKEY FAKES. It's still fun though.

Your trolltag is caligulasAquarium and you speak wwith a vvery wweird and sort of wwavvy soundin accent.

Your STRIFE SPECIBUS(SPECIBI?) are RIFLEKIND and WANDKIND

AHAB'S CROSSHAIRS - a really powerful harpoon gun that also shoots lasers? Sure. It can kill a whale pretty easily.
WHITE WAND- Legit, a wand to use white magi- I mean SCIENCE


After you were brutally murdered for being a MASSIVE DICK, you are now on TERRA with no idea how you got there. You didn't learn a DAMN THING except that these stitches across your midsection are really fuckin' ITCHY.

So begins...

Eridan Ampora's Story

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#, as written by CrashQueen

The Prince of Hope pushed open the door of the bar and peered at it suspiciously through his glasses. Somebody had tipped him off that if he was looking for somebody to train him further in the white ‘sciences’, that was a good place to start.
Stepping into a puddle of inferior red-blood right from the get-go, he wondered if that person wasn’t just pulling his leg. The smell of alcohol was thick, and the current occupants hardly looked like they were of a higher caliber. Still, they were a step above those filthy land-dwelling grubs.
“Wwhat a fuckin’ dump...” He commented before sitting down at the bench, his cape settling dramatically to either side of him. He flipped through the menu, not recognizing any of this food...purely human fare. Ugh.

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#, as written by CrashQueen
Dragons. He was familiar with them, or at least a fascimile of them, after all, wasn’t Ter’s lusus one? He cast a glance at Stormstalker and the bard before knocking back the sea water he’d ordered before removing a personal device and attempting to access Trollian.
Egh...nobody’s in range. But he supposed he couldn’t expect much since he was, technically, DEAD. The last thing he remembered was staring at his lower half that had been separated quite forcefully from his top half.
Then he woke up here. It wasn’t Skaia, Prospit, or Derse. It was for sure NOT Alternia...It was somewhere new, somewhere uncharted. Somewhere alien and full of magic. Except magic didn’t exist. So...it was full of science.

Speaking of science...He withdrew his white-glowing Science Wand and twisted it in decorated fingers, golden eyes examining the intricate runes carved into it. Perhaps if he learned how to use his powers more skillfully, he could avoid another embarrassing death.

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#, as written by CrashQueen
The Prince of Hope pushed open the door of the bar and peered at it suspiciously through his glasses. Somebody had tipped him off that if he was looking for somebody to train him further in the white ‘sciences’, that was a good place to start.
Stepping into a puddle of inferior red-blood right from the get-go, he wondered if that person wasn’t just pulling his leg. The smell of alcohol was thick, and the current occupants hardly looked like they were of a higher caliber. Still, they were a step above those filthy land-dwelling grubs.
“Wwhat a fuckin’ dump...” He commented before sitting down at the bench, his cape settling dramatically to either side of him. He flipped through the menu, not recognizing any of this food...purely human fare. Ugh.

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#, as written by CrashQueen

Eridan turned around as the door to the bar flew off its hinges from Equius’ STRONGENTER, his cape and scarf swishing dramatically, kind of badass. But let’s face it, that’s about as badass as the seadweller was ever going to get. He raised an eyebrow over the top of his hipster glasses. “Eq? Wwhat the fuck are you doin’ here?”
Just when he thought he’d gotten away.
He glanced at Chargraine as the man talked about opportunities, and the troll assessed the oversized human, determining the possibilities. “Wwhat sort of opportunities are you talking about?”

He was really looking for somebody to assist in further cultivating his white science. This place looked like it was jam-packed full of wizards, even though wizards CLEARLY didn’t exist.

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The troll rubbed his chin in a supervillian manner as he regarded Chargraine’s information. “A tournament? Howw interestin’,” he noted, but it was clear that he didn’t particularly care. He was still bent on finding himself a tutor. Kanaya had been useless, the angels moreso, and obviously he wouldn’t be in this terrible place in the Medium (assuming this was still the Medium) if it weren’t for both of their negligence.
“Wwhat exactly sort of talents, human?”

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Eridan stared at the scars and for a second lifted a ringed finger to trace along it before holding himself back. Who knew what kind of germs these creatures had...and technically if this was a new planet (Planet of Smog and Vampires, obviously), shouldn’t he be killing them all to be leveling up? But this man spoke of resurrection, and THAT in particular interested the troll.
“Wwhat, you died and then came back? Howw is that evven possible?” He glanced down at his midsection, knowing that he had scars too. He’d woken up here after being brutally chainsawed in half, after all, perhaps it was the same for this human. Maybe he was part of another session. It couldn’t hurt to ask.
“Wwhere is this place anyway? I don’t remember seein’ anythin’ like it on my vviewwport....”

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#, as written by CrashQueen
“I am NOT your friend.” Eridan replied haughtily. “I havve no desire to share any of my quadrants wwith a human. Not yet, anywway. First thing’s first.” He could appreciate cunning however, a good trait to have, especially as troll royalty. He was certain he possessed it in spades, obviously. How else could he have cheated death? White science saved him.

“Luck? There is one thing I knoww for certain from playing this game, and that is that NOTHIN’ is left to luck. Evverything happens for a reason. And usually somebody else is responsible for it.” He withdrew his white wand, twisting it around in his fingers before showing it to Chargraine.
“I don’t suppose you knoww somebody on this planet that wwould know howw this thing wworks?” he asked. Might as well start asking the native population questions if he were to learn more.
He spotted the kiss and grunted. He still felt pretty bad about the whole...uh...murdering Fef thing.

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#, as written by CrashQueen
The grey-skinned troll entered the bar again, his wand clutched lightly in his decorated fingers. Finding somebody who was adept at white ‘science’ was harder than it looked. Everywhere people were practicing the other end of the spectrum, which Eridan didn’t want to go to, mostly because that one bitch human who rejected his advances practiced the darker arts. He didn’t want to be reminded of her.
The breeze from the opening door billowed his cape dramatically once again as he settled at a chair at the end of the bar and stared down the robot that whirred in front of him, reminded of Equius’ mysterious appearance in this strange place. What was he doing here?
And were the others of the group here?
Would Fef still be alive?

“Mmmf.” He grunted, resting the wand on the counter before him. “Just bring me a Faygo.”
The stuff wasn’t that terrible? Maybe that honking moron had something right.

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Eridan’s fins twitched at Torture’s underhanded comment before he swiveled in his barstool to stare right at her with those piercing golden eyes. He bit his lip in a somewhat furious way before exhaling through his nose and putting on a fake smile, exposing many sharp teeth. He should cut back on the murderin’...that’s how he got here anyway.
But it was interesting.

“And howw do you knoww wwhat I am? I havve nevver seen or trolled you in my life.” The Fayygo came and he popped it open to take a gingerly sip. Ble- well no....not bad at all, really. But Gamz can never know.
Ever.
He found Torture’s hair to be interesting, as up until now, he’d never seen a human with a hair color other than blonde or black. Obviously some sort of mutation, or glitch in the game. A product of the Scratch?...
“Wwell?” he continued.

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Eridan was an egotistical little shit, but he wasn’t going to be rude if offered a greeting. He took Torture’s hand with his own, his nails curiously yellow, fingers glistening with no shortage of golden rings. Obviously he was some form of noble or royalty, as seadwelling trolls typically were. The purple hue to his grey pallor would also hint that he was on the higher end of the hemospectrum, just a step below the Empress-to-be herself. Gog rest her soul.

“Hmmm, perhaps your ancestors saww my kind in the past, and so all your ‘trolls’ are seen as grey-skinned...” he mused. “Eridan Ampora, Prince of Alternia.”

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“No, of course not. It wwouldn’t do to be all offended. Different cultures.” He sipped the Faygo again, swishing the contents of the bottle around. “Torture is an interestin’ name, are you sure it’s not your Flarp handle? It sounds too extreme for a real name.”

He rolled the wand sitting on the counter back and forth, watching Belias and Jerico throw down. “Look at these fuckin’ assholes. Bladekind specibus is for douchebags wwho think they’re bein’ so cool, like that Strider kid. Complete fuckass.” He commented airily, or as airily as you can indirectly call a person a ‘fuckass’

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Eridan looked at her like SHE was the crazy one for not understand. “Flarp....maybe you knoww it better as extreme roleplayin’? Specibus is the type of wweapon you fight wwith. Mostly you only get one...but wwhen you’re at the highest level, you can add another. Likewwise, I have twwo: wwandkind,”
He picked up the white wand that was on the counter, causing it to glow faintly before shooting a beam of light energy across the bar and burnblasting a hole in the cement wall with a thunderclap of sound.
He tucked the wand away and summoned a massive harpoon gun easily taller than Torture, wielding it like it weighed nothing, resting the back on his shoulder like a bazooka. Indeed, Ahab’s Crosshairs was an impressive weapon.
“And riflekind. I wwon’t fire indoors though...that wwould be a disaster of Hindenburg proportions.”
He chuckled.

He blinked at the fairy who asked about his wand.
“Of course I fuckin’ knoww howw to use it. It’s mine. I’m not goin’ to stop them, it’s none of my business. Let them strife until one absconds.”

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She still didn’t get it.
“Extreme roleplaying does invvolvve real wweapons.” He shrugged. “And killin’. Lots of killin’. My teammate VVris and I wwere unstoppable, so much loot. So many dead wwrigglers....” He trailed off when he realized that Torture wasn’t paying attention. Well, wasn’t THIS a familiar feeling? He re-CAPTCHAlogued Ahab’s Crosshairs and crossed his arms to pout a princely pout.

He was impressed with the ‘science’ Torture was throwing around though. Maybe she could teach him how to properly use his own. But something about her lack of knowledge bothered him. Everybody in the Medium was aware of the rules of the game. Unless....unless he was OUTSIDE the Medium and somewhere else entirely. Oh Gog, that would be just terrible.

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“Don’t call me ‘kid’, I knoww I’m only six swweeps old, but that doesn’t givve you an excuse to talk dowwn to me!” He withdrew his wand again, it crackling with white energy. He narrowed his eyes, but repeated back to her. “So this is somewwhere outside the fuckin’ Medium. Just...great. I’m nevver getting home.”
He tapped the wand against his leg before tilting his head at her. “Magic doesn’t exist.” He replied flatly, as if this were fact. “It’s simply a higher levvel of science.”
There was no shaking him from that belief, so don’t even try.

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“Fine. I’ll do things your wway.” Outside of FLARP, Eridan didn’t have much of a fighting spirit. Mostly because he was 80 percent certain if he tried something stupid, Torture would kick his ass. He really wanted to avoid another embarrassing death if he could help it. “You’ll havve to forgivve me...I’vve been stuck in a computer game for maybe 3 years...it’s hard to...think outside the confines.”
He balanced the wand between his two forefingers now. “A swweep is about twwo Earth years. Not that you’d knoww wwhat Earth is, right...” He shook his head. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

First thing’s first. “I don’t suppose you knoww wwhere I can find somebody wwho can further teach me wwhite sci- ugh... MAGIC.” When in Rome...

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And it was about to get weirder.
Gambits' door was blasted open with a white bolt of SCIENCE and Eridan Ampora strutted in like the pimp he thinks he is, his cape swooshing behind him magestically. He pushed past anybody who might have been in his way with a low string of curses before setting up at the end of the bar and tucking his wand back into his belt. He fiddled with the holographic menu, looking for something that was not completely revolting before settling on something familiar...sushi.
Most people wouldn't trust any raw fish from Gambits, but Eridan was frankly, a bit of an idiot. But he was a troll, cod dammit! Not only that, but a sea-dweller, the best kind of troll. He could eat pure gasoline if he wanted to! (not that he would, but the statement holds true).

He grunted as he waited for the robot to make his order. "Sloww as shit. Shorely wwe can do better than that...."

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Eridan Ampora stared back at the elf, making note of her unusual skintone, similar to a Derse dweller. Maybe she was from that planet....But the look she was giving him was not a pleasant one, and he wasn't about to stand for that from anybody, regardless of their origin.
"Wwhat?" he challenged. "Havve you nevver seen somebody wwith gray skin before? Racist."

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Eridan blinked golden eyes behind his hipster glasses, reaching up to touch said horns that grew from the top of his head. "Hnnf. Wwhat's wwrong wwith havvin' horns? Mine especially, their coloration is the mark of a troll of high breedin'..." He touched them again, managing to mask his frown behind a scowl. There wasn't anything wrong with his horns were they? Granted curly horns were seen mostly in troll females, but Alternian society didn't really place much significance in gender...But Fef had said she liked them! What a dilemma...
He was saved from his quandry when the sushi arrived, hacked to hell by unskilled hands. Ugh...he supposed he'd eat it. But no tip to the insufficient presentation.

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After her initial jab, Eridan got over the elf's perceived rudeness quickly. He had always been that desperate for companionship, especially since he had all his quadrants re-emptied for him when he y'know, got chainsawed in half before showing up here. He picked at the sushi with disdain written across his fingers.
"Wwhen you livve in the middle of the ocean...you are kinda spoiled by the wway of seafood..." Regretfully, he popped a piece of the mooshy, floppy salmon in his mouth and chewed, resisting the urge to spit it back out. "But it's still better than the other slop they havve the nervve to call food here. Wwhat is wwith the human obsession wwith deep fryin' evverything?"

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But where one pain in the ass left, another would soon enter with his usual perceived swagger, his cape billowing in a self-created wind like he was a badass supervillain. But he was not that. He was just Eridan Ampora.
He hopped up onto a bar stool and put in an order for sushi because he never fuckin’ learns. “And try not to make it so cod-damned horrible this time...”
Now you’re just going to get a glob of tuna still in the shape of the can. Good job.

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