Characters: Equius/Shadoweq, Wriggle, Eridan, Gandalf, and whoever else would like to join in!
Setting: September 11, the place where the galaxy floor ought to be
Format: Whatever your little heart desires. Let's do this mingle post style.
Summary: Clearly Shadow Equius has been nothing but kind and supporting of Equius' problems up to this point, so it makes sense that he should want to take the original out of his misery, right?
Warnings: Obligatory Shadow warnings. Gonna be cursing. Gonna be blood. Gonna be awkwardness, probably.


There he was.

The Shadow's expression brightened, the first sign that things were about to get very unpleasant very fast. Now how did he know that he would find Equius down here? It was kind of a no-brainer after he realized it; where had he run when that guy (Gamzee, maybe his name was) had gone after him? Here. And he was more or less in the same place too; he was counting on the fog to obscure him, and had found the spot where it was thickest, in one of the far corners of the room. Clever... clever.

The fog swept away immediately.

Galaxies, churning on the walls, became visible; they were any color, size or shape one could imagine, but all of them were the same in one respect. They all worked. They all made sense, even as they reached their imminent destruction. Gravity and physics and all the other laws of the universe were crushing down upon them, but at least they were doing so in a considerate and orderly fashion.

Not anymore.

They began... changing, just by his mere presence. On one wall, a world was dying backwards; being reconstructed from the bunch of starstuff that happened to be lying around in just the right clusters. Impossible, of course. On the ceiling, everything just stopped -- the destruction, the galaxy, everything. One by one, planets and stars started dying. Though the whole room was luminous, for obvious reasons, that particular wall soon became dark.

Still grinning, the Shadow walked towards Equius. "There you are!"

"--What?"

"I've been looking all over for you," he continued, sounding as if this were some kind of joke. "It seems running really is the only thing you're good at."

Equius was facing him immediately -- but he had his back against the wall. It wouldn't make any difference in the long run, granted, but that was still a pretty bad call nonetheless.

"My god, look at you!" The Shadow keeps walking, slowly, taking his time. And he's laughing. A lot. "No... it wasn't the only thing you're good at, I guess. Since if you were any good at running, you wouldn't have boxed yourself into a floor like this."

The staircase disappeared. It was an illusion, of course, but there was no need to let him know that.

Still smiling.

"Come on, this doesn't have to be difficult. I'm sure we can come to an agreement here. There's something that both of us need within the other, and if you'd give me a chance for once in your worthless life, then you'd see that I'm only trying to help!"

In response, Equius pressed further against the wall.

"...The silent treatment. Of course," continues the Shadow, rolling his eyes. "Yes, yes. 'Let the highblood speak their part'. But it's not a highblood chasing after you now, Equius. It's you. Now come on, stop crying like a wiggler, huh? No one likes you when you're that way. ...I'm not sure if anyone likes you, period." The Shadow takes a moment to pause and think about this. "...No, getting off track. Here. Come on. We can make this work!"

He holds out his hands, still smiling that horrible eerie smile.

"One way or another!"

Equius presses his palms against the wall. It doesn't do anything for his position relative to the Shadow, but apparently it works for something else.

"...No."

The hands drop.

So does the smile.

"No?"

"No."

"No..." The Shadow repeats this, as if he's trying to figure out why such a word exists in the first place. "Why 'no'? Why is that, Equius? What is there that's so problematic about this?"

"I-I know what you are," he continued. "I know what you're trying to do."

The Shadow's face continued to be a neutral line. "...You didn't listen to him at all, did you."

"What?"

"You didn't listen to him. At all."

The Shadow blinked.

"I was so happy when he told you that, I hope you know. My god. It was probably the best thing that anyone's ever allowed to pass your worthless sponge clots, ever. It's so unhealthy, bottling. God. It's like your entire fucking chest cavity is being compressed. So uncomfortable." He folded his arms. "It's really sad, don't you think? All the sheer energy you put into rejecting these things. Look at me. Look at me!" The Shadow held his hands out again, fingers pointed back towards his chest. "I should be saying the same things over and over again. That's what a Shadow does. The parts of a personality that the outward side denies, the Shadow takes those and runs with it."

He dropped his arms again.

"I don't need to do that, though. There's no exaggeration here."

Nothing moved.

"Because fortunately for me, you've spent your life denying the entire goddamn THING!"