towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters: orphaner dualscar (

orphans) and whoever!
Setting: the dormitory floor or cafeteria; any of the stairs in between
Format: starting with action, but i'll match
Summary: dualscar deals with his curse. or rather, doesn't.
Warnings: innuendo, language, the ability to use this icon icly, and general hideousness

[it was pretty easy to tell something was blatantly askew with him; thus, avoidance of the majority of the tower's floors for sometime. but that newly and mysterious acquired feeling of benevolence towards his peers? the seemingly inherent need to good? to keep peace? the come-ons, ones that would even make his fins curl with distaste, that would tumble from his mouth nigh every time he dared open it?

it was beginning to make him physically sick.

he was hoping this to be just another trick of the tower. though upon noticing no one else seemed to be afflicated as he was, the seclusion had began. however, he can't survive forever in such-- it's actually relatively easy to catch him rushing through hallways, up stairwells, or hurriedly finishing a bowl of oatmeal at a lone table.

feel free to say hi. the orphaner actually won't bite this time.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[he pauses in his hurried (yet still careful, he wouldn't dream of getting anything other than blood on his clothes) food consumption, only just realizing his behavior could potentially come off as rude to others?? oh nooooooo. though really, he's more horrified that he actually has to interact with someone.

and that he wants to.]

I beg your pardon?

You look a little... you know. [Feferi waves her hands vaguely, not specifying. her brazen attitude and the way she stands up and plants her bowl across from him makes her look as though she was never taught to be careful around adult trolls.]

Like something's on your... [she trails off. now that she has a good look at him-- wow. he looks just like Eridan, but older. scarred. the horns and the structure of his face is unmistakable, though.] Um.

[well that tells him. pretty much nothing. dualscar looks away, as if exchanging a glance with someone imaginary, before settling back in his seat. he's becoming quite accustomed to wigglers' boldness, and actually doesn't seem to mind her sitting near him!

horf.]

I've been feelin' a bit off lately, is all.

I... see.

[a pause. Feferi cannot stop staring; it's starting to seem pretty rude.]

You really-- really look like someone I know.

[he's both unperturbed by the staring and the statement. this wouldn't be the first time he's gotten that, here.]

"Eridan", correct?

Yes. My stupid ex-moirail. You're a dead ringer.

[just not as infuriating-looking, given that this guy is certainly no jadeblood.]

[... he had a feeling. wasn't exactly difficult to guess, either, what with... everything he's learned here. he'd steeple his fingers together in a gesture of interest, though lacks the other arm necessary to do so.]

Why "ex", if you don't mind me inquirin'?

'Ex' because he's a backstabbing coward who pretty much told me that he never liked me to begin with instead of just rejecting my flushed advances. [Feferi still seems sort of bitter about this. she scowls with all the immaturity of her six sweeps.]

[it's okay, his emotions have the maturity of six sweeps too! so he can.. empathize, almost.]

A wonder, that he would do such.

[not to sound overly creepy, but c'mon. parallel universes not withstanding, he's unable to understand even his own 'descendant' in this case.]

[that actually earns a little smile out of Feferi.]

Haha... You don't have to say that.

[pause]

I may not, but I feel it's the truth-- without takin' the other's circumstances into consideration, mind.