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 looks to her, appearing slightly less distressed for the moment.]

Don't be ridiculous.

[yes, he realizes it was a jocular statement, but he couldn't not take the opportunity to be melodramatic about it. no one else would take the job. at least he still had that. he spoons himself more oatmeal.]

If beauty were an hour, you'd be a second.

Highly then, I take it.

[Another delicate nibble of her own breakfast, and then a sip of her morning tea.]

Do you have any idea why that is?

If I did, then I'd have found a solution to it by now.

[a little overestimation of your abilities there, dualscar. and usually there would be murderous intent in his voice at that, as 'solving' anything would typically entail... killing it. but now? no.]

Do you've any suggestions?

A shame, but perhaps in your best interests.

[There are a lot of things she could suggest, none of them very pleasant, and in the end, she just shakes her head slightly.]

Waiting it out may be best... though perhaps it would be wise to try and learn something from this?

[a pause as he considers this, picking at his oatmeal with his spoon halfheartedly.]

Such as?

[She reaches over and pats the back of his hand.]

Such as how much more pleasant things can be when you're not attempting to harm others.

Why?

[there isn't a hint of skepticism in the question; he's honestly curious as to why she believes this-- though in his current state, he has an inkling about it.

otherwise? not a clue.]

Because there is more to life than anger and murder, Dualscar.

[Though considering Strega, you'd think she'd believe otherwise.]

[he looks to the side, letting his hand fall to his lap. it's hard to consider this, as ridiculous as that sounds, but he is trying so, so very hard regardless.]

'A course there is. There's a purpose to it.

['murder', at least. anger, however...]

[She raises her eyebrows the barest bit at that.]

Oh? Such as?

[he looks uncomfortable just talking about it.]

Purifyin' the gene pool.

[She frowns a little, and stops eating.]

Considering how few of you are here, I would think any kind of 'purifying' would be... unwise.

Death doesn't matter her.

[he swallows.]

Therefore, murder doesn't either.

Death has never truly been of any consequence to me.

[She couldn't care less about someone dying here or there to be honest.]

However, I think refraining would be good for your self-control.