The Land of Wrath and Angels somehow managed to actually be more fucking intolerable than LOPAH, which was fucking saying something. Massive mockery of his blood or not, at least LOPAH had different sized ruinous castles and enough hills and mountains to navigate by -- Karkat was pretty sure he was just going in circles at this point, punctuated mostly by periods where the pansearing light got to be too much and he had to stand around in the shelter of some retarded looking cathedral, palms to his eyes until they stopped watering. Which made listening for the overhead passing of those screaming wingworm hellbeasts really enjoyable, like a fun wriggler game that might end any second in ambush and messy death.
What an utter, unredeamable shithole.
"ERIDAN, TAKE YOUR HAND OUT OF YOUR NOOK AND ANSWER MY GODDAMN
MESSAGES BEFORE I CLIMB TO THE TOP OF THE NEXT OVERWROUGHT IDIOTIC
GOTHIC TOWER AND HANG MYSELF OUT OF DISGUST!!" Screaming, at least, made him feel a little better, and Karkat tightened his grip on Holmes Smell Ya Later as he turned around another corner, looking for any trace of a bulgebrained psychogic seadweller in full violetblood insanity. "WHERE THE *FUCK* ARE YOU, ASSHOLE, BELIEVE IT OR NOT I HAVE BETTER SHIT TO DO THAN WRIGGLERSIT YOU. LIKE JAMMING MY HEAD IN AN OVEN DOOR."
Off in the distance, standing on top the apex of one of oversized chapels in all his “grimdark” shadowy glory, Eridan prepared his hand for his next attempt at a focused, ranged spell. It had taken him several tries, but he was finally getting the hang of zeroing in on a specific target instead of firing off mottled blasts of white in its general direction. However, right as he was about to shoot an unsuspecting angel from off one of the nearby towers, he heard his trollian account ding for about the 17th time.
With a disgruntled snarl, Eridan finally decided to check his ‘Before It was Cool’ Combat Glasses for new messages, and to his surprise, saw that Kar had been serious and was actually here in lowaa. This was a thing that was actually happening.
Blinking once, then twice, he harrumphed and turned on his audio responder before readying his attack again. “If you’vve got better things to do then go do them, I don’t need a fuckin wwrigglersitter. I’m ridin this out for all its wworth and blastin the wwhite right out a these ugly mutant harpy-beast angels before I go to the next dungeon. It’s the second to last one anywway.”
He smirked, focusing all his power down from his wrist before finally taking aim, “Feels nice to use their owwn powwers against them.”
And the winged creature disintegrated with a loud, whooshing, boom.
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