towerofanimus | All aboard the intro train

Entry tags:

All aboard the intro train

Characters: Dualscar and you!
Setting: Starting with Floor 4, Floor 7 anything from that point is free game since he's wandering.
Format: Either is fine with me.
Summary: Dualscar handles waking up here and is entirely displeased with doing so.
Warnings: Nothing yet but violence will probably happen.

[04]
It's no surprise that Dualscar is in a bad (terrible, horrible) mood as he paces the halls of the tower. He'd woken up in a strange place and been given strange letters that he questions the validity of, just a normal day for anyone who has been in the tower long enough. There are few people who would enjoy a situation like this, but the scowl on Dualscar's face is particularly venomous. As if he's daring anyone around him to look him in the eye.

There's no way he'd wander about in the hideous clothing he'd been provided with, so it's fortunate he'd been quick to find his trunk. Now that he's dressed in a more respectable manner with his gun slung over his shoulder, he's ready to get to the bottom of this. Remember the look he's giving? Daring you to look him in the eye? Well, if you happen to do so he will be more than happy to interrogate you for answers.

[07]
Now tired of wandering and tired of harassing people (by some miracle) Dualscar has managed to find himself on floor seven. The pool looks appealing right now, but he isn't about to dive in with no good reason. He doesn't trust it. Why should he trust it?
Instead, he's choosing to circle it, scowling at his own reflection as he does.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Orphaner.

[Darkleer is a master of being neutral, if nothing else. Though he's inwardly rather displeased to meet the seadweller. At least, he keeps reminding himself, it's not the Highblood. He'll be glad to not run into him for the next life or two. Tone bland, but bordering on dry, Darkleer doesn't bother much with pleasantries. But he's also not outright disdainful. He's annoyed though.]

Such a delight to see you alive and well.

[No, not really. But the lack of undertone makes it near impossible to pin the sarcasm down. The thought of the Orphaner's eventual fate is enough to pacify Darkleer's annoyance, and it keeps his expression neutral, amusement and disdain cancelling each other out.]

As much as anyone else, I would suppose.

[That is, anyone with a functional brain. Of course, he's not implying you don't have a functional brain, Dualscar. But if the insinuation suits you... well, that's your own fault, not his.]

[Maybe if Dualscar weren't so incredibly self involved, he would be able to notice how little Darkleer seems to think of him. However, in Dualscar's brilliant vision of how things are going, Darkleer is nothing but honored to see him. As he should be.]

Flaterrin', though I've no reason to be otherwise.
[Mostly because he doesn't know he died. As it is, he's just incredibly pissed off and Mindfang and a certain Jade blooded slave. Nothing new, really.]

So I am to assume this is a very real situation we're in? [He asks, quirking an eyebrow at Darkleer. While his calm nature is usually beneficial, right now Dualscar is finding it offputting. He can't be the only one prepared to freak the hell out, can he?]

How long have you been here?

[You're the only one freaking out, Dualscar. It is you. Darkleer literally found the workshop his first day and stopped worrying about anything. ~~That's a lie and the half built experiments he's been working on since he got here attest to it, but you don't need to know that.~~ Darkleer tilts his head slightly to the side, hair rustling.]

Several weeks.

[Don't ask him how many, specifically. He's bad with time. Mostly, when you've spent as long as he has, wasting away on your own, time kind of stops carrying much of a meaning.]

As for the reality of the situation, it is hard to confirm or deny anything, since the evidence is both outright contradictory and provided by our... hosts.

[Well. Maybe he's the only one thinking rationally, then. Clearly there are few others with such well ordered priorities. Forgetting the fact that he felt the need to change before showing his face. That isn't even the same thing.

He rolls his eyes a little as Darkleer gives him yet another short answer. His patience is really starting to wear thin.]

So you know nothin' more of this place than anyone else does, but you have been here several weeks and have been provided with some form of evidence as food for thought?

[The flattest of looks.]

[That roll of eyes is a personal victory for Darkleer. You wouldn't know, though, given his placid expression.]

You did ask me for what I know, Orphaner. I would not presume you care to be bored by what I speculate.

[And he sounds so docile and flattering, you almost, almost miss the part where he's mocking you. Almost. The lack of expression on his face helps him with that, but in the privacy of his mind, Darkleer is smirking. Lots.]

[As far as Dualscar knows, there is no malicious intent behind the nature of his replies. Perhaps if he were a lower caste he would yell or use violence as a means of getting answers the other troll may not even have, but he feels Darkleer will prove to be useful in the future. At least, useful enough that Dualscar doesn't feel the need to punish him for such petty reasons.

His most recent reply seems to satisfy him enough, and he nods thoughtfully as he dwells on it. Perhaps he would be able to find better answers elsewhere, but he's willing to trust Darkleer's answer enough to drop the issue.]

Very well. [He sniffs, moving his hand so he may inspect his claws.] Have you suffered greatly in your time here? [The question is innocent enough, though he really means to ask if Darkleer finally got what was coming to him for his treachery.]

[Darkleer would very kindly and politely rip off those goddamn claws of yours, but that would be terribly uncouth so he feigns ignorance.]

I beg your pardon?

[Not without a fight, you wouldn't! Inwardly thinks the troll who isn't nearly as muscular as the blueblood. He can swim really fast though, that'll be super helpful.]

It doesn't seem as if it's the place for pleasantries, does it? I can't imagine you've enjoyed your stay here. Unless you've grown fond of the freedom.

[Yeeeeeah, I'm sure that'll help.]

Freedom, Orphaner? You mistake me for a gamblignant, if you think I care for such things.

[You, me, pool now. It's on. No floaties.]

I had thought your meager existence in exile would have you desirin' a life without such quandries to worry yourself over. Unless we are not alone, of course. Who else has been placed here?

[If you manage to get him there, sure. Go on. Darkleer shrugs.]

No one you would concern yourself with, Orphaner.

[Well, it's true, technically. What with the fact most trolls were either children, or the Signless and the Grand Highblood. Definitely not people for Dualscar to concern himself with.]

If I am to avoid them, I should like to know who they are.

[This may be his roundabout way of asking whether the Marquise is here or not. Normally, he would demand such information. However, he's both ashamed of his feelings and viled with so much rage that he cannot bear to speak her name.]

Children, lowbloods and lowblood children.

[And the GHB. But he doesn't want you to avoid the GHB. He wants to be there when you meet the GHB.]

Lowbloods...Children? [See the way his nose crinkles in disdain. What is children. Why is children.] What sort of children? What would you do with them?

Ignore them.

[He shrugs.]

Or cull them, if you're in the mood. Death doesn't amount to much here.

Do they prove themselves useful or are they an irritation and a burden to deal with?

Do you mean to say we are immortal? I imagine that takes the fun out of it.

[A pity, he does so love murdering children.]

Neither, truth be told. Most of them keep to themselves and know better than to incur the wrath of their betters.

[Most of them.]

You misunderstand, we are not immortal. It simply does not matter how many times you die.

[He sounds a little predatory about that.]

What a pleasant surprise. I trust you've been keepin' order in place of a more honorable caste then, Darkleer? Or are they well behaved of their own volition?

So we are not immortal, but we don't die forever. Is that what you mean to say? Does that mean death is of little consequence beyond the pain of it?

[Dualscar prattles on, incapable of reading tone.]

[Darkleer is tempted to offer a demonstration, if only because it'd be awfully satisfying to pop the seadweller's head between his hands. Wouldn't be harder than handling a ripe grape, probably. But he refrains. For all he's being annoying, he recognizes that Dualscar is being almost gracious about things.]

And the time wasted between death and regeneration, yes.

[Almost, being the keyword there. He has little time to spare for proper manners, but he's preoccupied by his curiousity and that makes him less inclined to be openly rude.]

How much time? Does it vary given the circumstances? Are you dead in that time or are you aware of the situation?

[MUST. RESIST. TEMPTATION.]

A day with its night, my lord. And as far as I have been able to gather, the circumstances behind the death do not matter, but there is no recollection of the time it takes to be restored.

[He shrugs lightly.]

It's a fascinating process.

[WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE FOR YOURSELF?]

It sounds as if it is. I suppose there is some consequence to death then. Enough to hold it against those who oppose me at the very least. Enough to have me avoidin' it as I would were I back home.

I take it you've experienced it?

If that is how you choose to see it, yes.

[Darkleer remains neutral, though inwardly he continues to argue with himself over the pros and cons of just punching Dualscar's stupid face off.]

...I have. It was rather surprising, all things considered.

[And terrifying. Fucking terrifying, that. But he's not sharing that with you.]

How else would you choose to see it?

[He is genuinely confused.]

How is it that you died? Were you murdered?

A very minor inconvenience in the face of a very long string of major inconveniences.

[Just sayin'.]

I am not sure murder is the precise word for it.

All aboard the intro train

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