towerofanimus | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Characters:

dualscars and whoever wants to pester him.
Setting: Floor 10.
Format: Starting off with brackets, but I'll match.
Summary: Dualscar copes with the Condesce's decision of equality. Poorly.
Warnings: R for Raging Douche.

Scenario A ⇨

["equality."

for anyone else, the situation that had arisen wouldn't cause as much distress as this. but this is dualscar: so naturally, it affected him ten times worse than was called for. even if many of his theatrics were intentional, a lot of them... were not.

it wasn't the fact that he was, the signless, but more the fact of how. what did the mutant -- no, monstrosity, the mutation was not favorble to his survival in the least -- think he doing in addressing the empress so forwardly?

but then she'd agreed. put him on the same level, thrown away the heirachy completely, and everything that made him better than the other with what he assumed to be a single syllable. he couldn't fathom that they were to be equals in that regard. he didn't want him to be even within the same room as her, building, land, let alone speaking freely to her, and her seemingly not minding it--

it made him sick. a feeling no amount of slaughter could alleviate, no matter the size of the enemy or the viciousness of it or just how slowly he dictated the creatures' demise, it wouldn't let up. the guns aches his shoulder now, the friction of the cutlass in hand rubbing his hand raw. the water feels heavy, not soothing as he'd hoped it would. he swims on, searching for a new target.

but red.

they all bleed fucking red.]

Scenario B ⇨

[ahab's crosshairs leans against the bench, the sword lies bloodied scarlet upon the floor. it spreads slowly across it, intermingling with the spilled salt water, and there is not only red, but drips of rich violet hues as well.

the orphaner sits at the same bench, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. presumably in rest, his bare chest heaving as he catches his breath, tiny rivulets of seawater running down his scarred face, neck, shoulders, swimshorts, legs-- finally to the floor as well.

but there are a few new gashes that momentarily halt him in his brutal excursions. scratches here and there that look to be more of an irritation than anything, but then the most noticable one along the side of his torso. from below his shoulder blade to just barely missing where his gills begin it runs; the wound itself ideep and jagged, swelling with a little more blood everytime he inhales.

not that it's of any more concern to him than any of his other wounds are; this one just bleeding heavily enough so as to need it to stop before he immersed himself in the water again. no need to attract hoards of the unwelcome, after all.]

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[She's seen them in the tower, rooms with one whose voice grates her ears whenever she talks- Chidori's not a fan of loud people, much less loud aliens. Still, she's never seen one quite like this one- neither this old or in such a state- the way she notes they're built makes that a bit of a surprise. After all, they've claws, sharp teeth- meant to prey, not be preyed upon, so all that she assumes is blood takes her by surprise. She pauses, considering if the course of action she wishes to take is the wisest- but if Minato were with her, he would do it, so she turns, boots scuffing the floor beneath them as she does. She stops just short of him, expression ever-impassive but only the slightest bit curious.]

You're injured.

[She's not the most verbose, and while eloquent, doesn't much see the point in wasting too many words.]

I can fix it.

[She had already promised herself that she wasn't going to bother getting herself involved in this mess until it was absolutely necessary. Hey, perhaps she was even hoping Dualscar's anger would push him to hastier actions. This wasn't quite what she had in mind, though. It wasn't difficult to hear the crosshairs firing as she passed the room, even underwater.

It's almost sad, but she hadn't seen water in several sweeps. She had almost forgotten what it looked like.

Like it or not, ignoring the problem wouldn't make it disappear. She had already passed by once when he was fighting, having ignored it entirely. Now she could see violet on the floor, causing her to exhale in a bit of exasperation as she entered. He wouldn't be pleased with her -- hell, she was barely pleased with herself, having to stoop so low. But she had already learned where pride would get her, and that was nowhere.]

Dualscar.

[She uses his name, rather than his title this time. Losing her best warrior would do nothing to get her back where she needed to be. If she had to be a friend beyond duty for the day, then she would indulge it.

For now, anyway.

She wouldn't enter the water just yet -- in truth, she can feel her gills sucking the salty air in desperately beneath her robes, but she's wary of starting a habit she doesn't want nor need.]

[he starts slightly, being so absorbed in his ever incessant brooding he hadn't been aware of his immediate surroundings. it's a woman's voice that greets him, and for a moment there'd been a glimmer of hope (yet still dread) that it'd be someone he'd have liked to see, but that's quickly extinguished as he looks round.

another human. what's worse, even her hair echoes that vile color. they probably bleed the same as these useless beasts of this aquarium do, he thinks. why had he even bothered asking before, when the answer had been so obvious?

his hand had instinctively gone to grasp the barrel of his gun. he pulls away from her slightly, baring pointed teeth, his fins flattening and flaring out against the sides of his face. if he'd been in his home world, surely he would've been culled already for his mistake.]

You are?

Not an enemy.

[For the moment at least, though she eyes the rifle with a certain degree of pointedness. His teeth are quite sharp, she notes- though she's not sure if she realizes the fins make his seeming irritation more amusing than threatening to her. Then again, she doesn't have much in the way of things she fears, for a vast number of reasons- and she doesn't think this man will be any different. Still, she makes it a point to keep her stance neutral, the barest of movements keeping the chains of her axes from making their presence known.]

Chidori, otherwise.

[She's not as formal as Minato, or anyone else from their country, so she doesn't bother with her surname or honorifics, and merely inclines her head toward his injuries again.]

Shall I?

[and now a voice he couldn't mistake, ever, even if he wanted to. slowly, warily, he glances over then drops his gaze to the floor. best not look at her too forwardly, yet she read him too easily. and now with the feeling of what he sees as betrayal on her behalf, he almost feels shame on his own. and then some as a soldier of his calibre shouldn't feel that at all.

he stands from where he rests, failing to hide the grimace which comes from the sudden movement and the protest of the wound that follows, and bows. not as low as he would like, but a bow nonethless. some water drips noisily from his hair.]

Your Highness.

[--is all he says, head remaining inclined as he still doesn't meet her gaze fully. the fact that she'd have to see him in such a state. really. and he doesn't know what he'd do if signless were to then come by, presumebly having been near, and the thought of it (no matter how ridiculous) still hurts. he shouldn't be allowed anywhere near her.]

Sit.

[It comes out as almost a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Did she really have to mother these wrigglers into submission? It was absolutely absurd to even think about.

And so she wouldn't, without at least letting him know how immature he was being about all of this.]

Chase the wrong shark, did you?

[take it as a wounded animal would do; nothing but a primitive, puffer-fish like reaction to feeling suddenly threatened. his gaze flicks downward to her hands (weaponless) and back to her visage again. the eyes didn't tell him much, either.

but like her, he's curious. ever so slightly, and more than hesitently, he lifts his arm so that she may have better access to the wound. still he can't shake the feeling shebleedsred shebleedsredshebleedsred, the same as him-- if he knew at this very moment that she did, he wonders if he would refuse her offering.

of course he would. that shouldn't even be a valid question.

and despite his previous misgivings, he has to be sure.]

What color is your blood?

[Her hands rise as his arm does a step taken closer as she pauses to examine the wound.

The blood in it isn't red, so when his question comes, she immediately knows why he asks. Still, she raises her gaze- golden-eyed and only slightly bemused- and stares him down levelly as she settles beside him. Her eyes slide to the sword then, bloodied with a color that isn't his, and she turns her gaze back to the wound, eyes beginning to slide shut as she concentrates on drawing Medea forth.]

Red. The same as all humans.

[For once, there is compliance, and if Dualscar pays attention, there is the faintest flicker of a figure- gangly and imposing- that appears behind her as her hands glow. She holds them above the wound, mindful not to actually touch- she's made that mistake with her teammates before and the result is sometimes enough to break her concentration enough that she can't regain it.]

I see you do not. Is this significant?

[of course, he obeys, sitting back down quickly. despite not looking directly at her, he still notices her movements in the corner of his eye. now exasperation: he should be culled for causing that alone, let alone all his other apparent weaknesses. he idly wonders if she would, and decides that would probably be for the best.

(how melodramatic. he'd rage about it later if she did.)

the orphaner lifts a bruised and bloodied hand to his chin, as if to thoughtfully stroke it; though the action isn't quite complete.]

Somethin' like that, aye.

[During the previous month, when only a sickly sweet buffet was available, Eridan was incredibly pleased by the appearance of the aquarium, and even after real food returned, he continued visiting the place. Why not? He didn't have to interact with anyone else except for during breakfast.

Naturally, he didn't expect to practically swim into his ancestor through the cloud of fish. Shit. He kicked sideways to put a decently sized fish between Dualscar and himself.]

[She approaches him, because even though she hasn't been terribly personal with Dualscar, she knows how to recognize melodrama, and she is not about to have any of it when she's in the same room as him. So if Condesce has to be forward about this, then she will.

His hand is promptly slapped out of the way and his chin is grabbed in her hand instead, forcing him to look straight up into yellow eyes smeared with tyrian hue. Her expression is most unamused.]

I'm speaking to you, Orphaner.

[Of course, her touch cannot mend wounds or restore lost strength, but her longevity was not something she simply inherited. Despite the power in her grip, the dig of her nails, there was definitely something warm and soft about the tips of her fingers -- something that would make the oldest man feel as if he were a boy again.]

[he's too distracted by her actions, later her words, to take notice of the flicker of a figure; and good thing for him too, for he would've reacted quite unfavorably for both. the glowing is more than a little curious; he eyes it for sudden change, ready to jump back if she did anything just a little too suddenly.

and then there's her words. she may notice him tense considerably, hear the grind of his teeth. it takes all his remaining effort not to pull back then and there.

but at least all humans bled that hue, and she wasn't another monstrosity.]

Mine denotes royalty. Yours, absolute filth.

Does my blood bother you?

[The question is offhand- almost as if she's making conversation as the glow from her hands begins to seep into his skin, likely feeling like warmth and comfort even as the inside of the wound begins to close. One would almost think she didn't care what she was called- which she didn't, but she was mulling over his reactions, both physical and verbal, before delivering her retort.

Chidori is relatively fearless, yes, but not stupid, and she phrases her question with an honest sort of indifference. The kind that states that no matter what he thinks, she will not care enough to dwell on the answer.]

Or is it the lack of the inherent social order for us based on it that bothers you more?

[the action is unexpected; he stiffens, grits his teeth. his gaze flickers to meet hers: tyrian and violet and his loses out horribly. he hopes she sees nothing but impassivity and complete subjugation to her will.

but she's willingly touching him, and it's like something he's never experienced before. if only it were a little more lovingly and not out of frustration, he wishes. and he's unsure as to how to respond it, as no one has ever dared to act so condescendingly to him, but that is her namesake.

"I'm well aware." "I apologize." "I thought I was being respectful."

he says nothing.]

[unexpected for the both of them, then. glub. despite his hideously foul mood, he can't help but be somewhat pleased with his descendant's appearance, and the opportunities this opens up for the both of them-- except, well, when eridan kicks a fish between them.

in one swift motion, he skewers it through the middle with his sword, a cloud of blood blossoming from its gaping wound as it swiftly ceases in its movements of undulation. he tears it off, casually, then propels himself forward to make a move and grab for eridan's scarf.]

[Condesce lets him digest the glare for a moment before her grip relaxes and her glare lessens. She's still disappointed in his behavior, but she's reminded herself exactly why she came here in the first place.]

Are you through acting like a wriggler?

[The Nation makes her way along the corridors, searching out for something to be of use in this place. After everything that's been going on, she was getting just a bit of cabin fever in waiting for the next so called 'event' to take place and settle this place in chaos.

Sighing, she wandered to the 10th floor only to practically stop in her steps when she remembers this smell of blood. No matter the creature, alien or not, Blood is blood.

Evergreen eyes squinted in focus as she rounds the corner with a bit more confidence in her step, years of battle allows her to switch from the maid she became to the warrior she once was.] Hello? Is- everything alright?

It does.

[the answer comes quick, in a hiss. though not from feeling uncomfortable, as the wound has come to feel significantly better-- nonexistent, even. his breaths become deeper as it's no longer bothersome for his rib-cage to expand past a certain point.

and her indifference is for the better, really. no matter how gravely important he believes it to be, he couldn't do much if an entirely different race couldn't give less of a fuck, nor could he hold them to it. not that that's going to stop him from thinking he could, however, but the case still rests. last time he'd asked someone that question, it'd returned a remarkably strong reaction.]

If not through blood, then what is social order based upon?

[Trying to backpedal, kick himself away, Eridan's long scarf is fairly easily grabbed by his ancestor. Oh god. He can't take it off, HE CAN'T. Not to mention his gun is useless in close quarters.]

[his eyes narrow for a fraction of a second; an exceptional yet volatile amount of emotions coursing through him. but that's it as far as detectable motion goes, however. and he's still, the only discernible noises for a moment being the flow of sea from the aquarium and the steady dripdrip of water and blood.]

I am.

It varies.

[This is going to take some explaining, since she doesn't know how his world works, so she pauses thoughtfully, concentrating on his would for a moment.]

Earth has many cultures, and they are all quite different.

[She blinks slowly and then looks up at him again, raising her eyebrows the barest bit.]

There are places that still value royalty- though that is more based on parental bloodlines than blood color. [A pause, considering.] It is often based on success- monetary, usually.

[the orphaner glares towards the source of the noise, his lip curling into the beginnings of his infamous sneer. wearily, he reaches down to pick up his discarded and much abused sword, wincing as he does so; but he does so tightly. despite the tone of voice seeming friendly enough, he wasn't sure as to who it was, or even what race they were.

but, alas: she's human. and this does not diminish his hold on the weapon.

he ignores her question, finding it nondescript and invasive, however tempting it is to say "no".]

Hello.

[if eridan does indeed have his gun with him, expect dualscar to let go of his sword completely; for it to drift languidly down and away from the intertwined two. he pays little attention to it, instead opting use his newly freed hand to grab the rifle-like part of the crosshairs and deliberately tilt it away from him.

not the least bit trusting in his protege, not in the least.

with the younger one's panicked backpedaling though, it should make it somewhat easier for the scarf to loosen and eventually tear free. after all, he's not exactly attempting to strangle the other.]

[She releases him entirely. opting instead to seat herself beside him after a long moment of staring him down. It's clearly an awkward motion for her, stooping to the levels of others, because her spine is rigid, posture straight and stiff.]

Good. Because I would hate to think that you thought for a moment that I was happy with these arrangements.

[the proximity. dualscar remains still, despite wanting to move himself closer (or was it further from? he isn't quite sure at this moment) to her. he lowers his hands to rest on either side of his legs; clutching at the edge of the bench.

but he'll look at her while she speaks, an eyebrow raising marginally at her words. it's not doubtful, per say, but inquisitive.]

Then why go through with it?

[and the words are more weighted then he seems to let on.]

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A

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B

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ohay there

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