Relationships to Canon Characters: Mindfang: His former kismesis. The two were infamous for their black romance until Dualscar began to develop flushed feelings that he eventually confessed to. The relationship was built on mutual benefit and snark and Dualscar is confused as to how he really feels about her. Her Imperious Condescension: It's implied by Mindfang that he's flushed for her, and it's possible considering their descendants. As someone loyal to the empire and second highest in ranking it seems fitting that he would desire her. The Helmsman: It's possible he had a hand in getting him his job as the Helmsman. Though he probably detests anyone who interests the Empress more than Dualscar himself, he doesn't really know him. Grand Highblood: Killed by him because he couldn't think of a funny joke, thinks he's ridiculous but had the nerve to attempt to use him in order to rid himself of Mindfang's scorn. The Dolorosa: Has an intense dislike for her, coupled with jealousy. She was getting in the way of his relationship with Mindfang so he had her killed.
Eridan Ampora:His descendant whom he has had no direct contact with. However, it's said that an Ancestor will leave hints for their Descendant and help them follow their path, the only clear indication of this is that Eridan wields his crosshairs and roleplays Dualscar with a passion. That being said, Eridan himself is quick to give it away and replace it with his new weapon.
First Person:So, it's been made abundantly clear that I wwill not be leavvin' this place. Not by my owwn accord, in any case. An' I'm not alone in this, am I? Right. First off, I wwant to knoww the name an' rank a evvery troll in this place. If you wwere so blind as to believve the caste system wwould go to shit because a different circumstances, you can think again. Wwe wwill not conform to the livves of humans. To do so is to betray your heritage and to become the scum a the univverse. Honestly, wwhy anyone would desire such a short, confusin' existance is beyond me. Second. I'd noticed that it's not just the idiots I'd become accustomed to, but wwe are noww in possession of a second set a wwrigglers? Fascinatin'.
For those a you born swweeps too late to knoww the glory a our time, I am Orphaner Dualscar an' you wwill refer to me as such. It's a pleasure for all a you, I am sure.
Third Person: The sound of Dualscar's boots clicking against the stone floors is the only thing stopping an eerie silence from falling over the darkened caves. There's a dim light in the distance, but it serves little comfort to the troll as he walks. The further he walks forward, the closer the figure on the chair becomes. He feels small, standing in the other troll's presence, so he does not kneel. The blood smeared on the walls in rainbow patterns and queer faces sends a shiver of disgust down his spine.
The next parts are a blur. He argues and he freezes. Suddenly words do not come so easily. A joke should be so simple, right? Such a foolish request, and yet, Dualscar could not even open his mouth. The light behind the other troll seems to shine brighter as he stands, the patterns becoming swirls as Dualscar's eyes struggle to focus. A spiked club raises and Dualscar's heart stops, the moment seeming to freeze almost entirely before it all comes crashing down. The club collides, the pain burns and suddenly Dualscar sees the world through violet coloured glasses before a cold rush of air fills his lungs.
One deep breath is followed by a few short, sharp ones as Dualscar begins to realise his surroundings. Had that all been a dream? He shakes his head, trying to focus again as he glances around. Nope. Actually. Looking around himself is making this worse. His body is shaking and he feels sick to stomach as he buries his face in his hands and shuts his eyes for a moment. He regrets that choice as soon as he makes it, when he closes his eyes all he can see is that twisted, painted face and all he can hear is the booming echo of his laugh. It wasn't just his skull that had been shattered, it was his pride.
Curious as this contraption was, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know where he was being taken, but he supposes he's about to find out as the train rolls to a stop. He wills his shaking legs to stand as he steps toward the doors, shouldering his crosshairs to wedge out of the train. He inhales sharply, trying to earn the courage to step onto the platform. The breeze ruffles his hair as he peers out the door and he scowls into the empty platform.
There he stands, a troll in a strange place with no particular purpose or inkling of knowledge in regards to his surroundings. He's heard much different tales of death and the mysteries of the afterlife, and he's fairly sure he prefers them to...this.
[ FANDOM OC] Orphaner Dualscar || Homestork || no reserve || 3 of 3
Mindfang: His former kismesis. The two were infamous for their black romance until Dualscar began to develop flushed feelings that he eventually confessed to. The relationship was built on mutual benefit and snark and Dualscar is confused as to how he really feels about her.
Her Imperious Condescension: It's implied by Mindfang that he's flushed for her, and it's possible considering their descendants. As someone loyal to the empire and second highest in ranking it seems fitting that he would desire her.
The Helmsman: It's possible he had a hand in getting him his job as the Helmsman. Though he probably detests anyone who interests the Empress more than Dualscar himself, he doesn't really know him.
Grand Highblood: Killed by him because he couldn't think of a funny joke, thinks he's ridiculous but had the nerve to attempt to use him in order to rid himself of Mindfang's scorn.
The Dolorosa: Has an intense dislike for her, coupled with jealousy. She was getting in the way of his relationship with Mindfang so he had her killed.
Eridan Ampora:His descendant whom he has had no direct contact with. However, it's said that an Ancestor will leave hints for their Descendant and help them follow their path, the only clear indication of this is that Eridan wields his crosshairs and roleplays Dualscar with a passion. That being said, Eridan himself is quick to give it away and replace it with his new weapon.
First Person: So, it's been made abundantly clear that I wwill not be leavvin' this place. Not by my owwn accord, in any case.
An' I'm not alone in this, am I?
Right.
First off, I wwant to knoww the name an' rank a evvery troll in this place.
If you wwere so blind as to believve the caste system wwould go to shit because a different circumstances, you can think again.
Wwe wwill not conform to the livves of humans. To do so is to betray your heritage and to become the scum a the univverse.
Honestly, wwhy anyone would desire such a short, confusin' existance is beyond me.
Second. I'd noticed that it's not just the idiots I'd become accustomed to, but wwe are noww in possession of a second set a wwrigglers?
Fascinatin'.
For those a you born swweeps too late to knoww the glory a our time, I am Orphaner Dualscar an' you wwill refer to me as such.
It's a pleasure for all a you, I am sure.
Third Person: The sound of Dualscar's boots clicking against the stone floors is the only thing stopping an eerie silence from falling over the darkened caves. There's a dim light in the distance, but it serves little comfort to the troll as he walks. The further he walks forward, the closer the figure on the chair becomes. He feels small, standing in the other troll's presence, so he does not kneel. The blood smeared on the walls in rainbow patterns and queer faces sends a shiver of disgust down his spine.
The next parts are a blur. He argues and he freezes. Suddenly words do not come so easily. A joke should be so simple, right? Such a foolish request, and yet, Dualscar could not even open his mouth. The light behind the other troll seems to shine brighter as he stands, the patterns becoming swirls as Dualscar's eyes struggle to focus. A spiked club raises and Dualscar's heart stops, the moment seeming to freeze almost entirely before it all comes crashing down. The club collides, the pain burns and suddenly Dualscar sees the world through violet coloured glasses before a cold rush of air fills his lungs.
One deep breath is followed by a few short, sharp ones as Dualscar begins to realise his surroundings. Had that all been a dream? He shakes his head, trying to focus again as he glances around. Nope. Actually. Looking around himself is making this worse. His body is shaking and he feels sick to stomach as he buries his face in his hands and shuts his eyes for a moment. He regrets that choice as soon as he makes it, when he closes his eyes all he can see is that twisted, painted face and all he can hear is the booming echo of his laugh. It wasn't just his skull that had been shattered, it was his pride.
Curious as this contraption was, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know where he was being taken, but he supposes he's about to find out as the train rolls to a stop. He wills his shaking legs to stand as he steps toward the doors, shouldering his crosshairs to wedge out of the train. He inhales sharply, trying to earn the courage to step onto the platform. The breeze ruffles his hair as he peers out the door and he scowls into the empty platform.
There he stands, a troll in a strange place with no particular purpose or inkling of knowledge in regards to his surroundings. He's heard much different tales of death and the mysteries of the afterlife, and he's fairly sure he prefers them to...this.