So, yeah, obviously, Eridan hears the shouting waaaaaaaaay before he ever sees Karkat. That's kind of how it is with him -- always yelling, always shouting, unable to clam up even when it's obvious that he's so far outta his goddamn depth he might as well be deep sea diving with a snorkel.

Normally, he'd just say as much. Shout back at the top of his considerable expanding and collapsing blah blah system, kar you don't knoww wwhat you're evven talkin' about, shut the fuck up, bet you havven't evven mustered yet, you leiless bastard!

Instead, he, uh. He lurks. Like some kinda predatory shark, swimming through Karkat's wake to avoid detection from a smaller, less knowledgeable and stupidly loud fish. A bahanamal, maybe, if he's feeling generous enough to compare that literal sack of polyester to his own formidable stalking capabilities.

All of this to say, by the time Karkat is done with the muster drill, staring gobsmacked at the faceless broad, Eridan has found a casual, slightly out-of-the-way spot to loiter. His figure isn't as imposing without his cape -- but it's downright fuckin' gutted by the fact that he's wearing a Tommy Bahama button-up over his traditional (if suspiciously cropped) shirt. Yes, the one with the long sleeves.

He thinks he's being very subtle. As usual, he is his own most unreliable narrator.