Gameward Dualscar
@orphanerDualscar
Gameward Host o' #fishingfriday Casual Bard Kismesis o' @archiveAddict Matesprit o' @audaciousConfident
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 OOC Muse Specific Information. (ADDENDUM) I do roleplay NSFW and above, it's Dualscar, he is basically default NSFW #nsfw #ooc #lore #nsfwe? Don't involve him in Anonymous Submission Posts, or anything regarding him or his relationship(s). It's weird to be obsessed with my muse like that. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 230th Imperial Sweep Hatched Cronus Ampora, he was a culler from hatching. The Empire had uses for highbloods, and he was shaped into one of those uses before he could properly understand what that meant. Violence was not taught to him. It was expected. By six sweeps, as demanded by Alternian custom, he culled his own lusus. Not out of hatred. Not even out of cruelty. Merely because this was the path laid before him. The first true act of the Orphaner. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 236th Imperial Sweep His youth was spent in the presence of Meenah Peixes. The two were close. Closer than perhaps either of them should have allowed. Their relations drifted dangerously near moiraillegiance in those younger sweeps, before duty and imperial paranoia poisoned the possibility of it. At the same time, the would-be Orphaner spent long stretches near Gl'bgolyb herself. Conditioning his pan against her horrid psychic wailing. Preparing himself for a lifetime beneath the shadow of the Empire. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 239th Imperial Sweep It was during the Royal Courts that he earned the name Dualscar. He spoke out of line before the Empress. A mistake. A singular mistake. The 2x3Dent narrowly missed culling him outright and instead left him permanently scarred. The wound remained across him for the rest of his life. A reminder to himself and everyone else of what becomes of those who fail to respect imperial authority. From then onward, he was no longer merely Cronus Ampora. He was Dualscar. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 240th - 246th Imperial Sweeps As he aged, his attachment to the Empress curdled into flushed longing. Dangerous longing. The sort of longing that could only end in execution if spoken aloud. She, however, grew increasingly wary of him. She understood what her future required. Dualscar had no place within it. Around these same sweeps, he shared a brief spark of kismesissitude with the The Grand Highblood. But neither of them could truly hate the other enough to sustain it. The quadrant withered before it could properly bloom. Still, his work flourished. As for his role as Orphaner? Dualscar was a natural. Culling was already a highblood specialty. Give one a legendary weapon such as Ahab's Crosshairs and suddenly very few things on Alternia remained beyond their reach. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 247th Imperial Sweep At seventeen sweeps, Dualscar first crossed paths with Marquise Spinneret Mindfang. He did not think much of it at the time. Pirates were not his jurisdiction. Letting her go seemed harmless enough. Lightning rarely struck twice. Ahab's Crosshairs, however, certainly did. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 247th - 330th Imperial Sweeps Over the following sweeps, the rivalry between Dualscar and Mindfang became something far uglier than simple conflict. Their clashes turned personal. Then intimate. Then venomous. Quadrants bled together beneath cannon fire and threats whispered behind closed doors. For a time they remained evenly matched. Dualscar stood at the peak of physical prowess while possessing not a single psychic advantage. Mindfang, meanwhile, became increasingly manipulative and mentally fortified with every passing sweep. As the centuries passed, Dualscar became something almost mythological among imperial circles. Rebels whispered stories of the Orphaner that culled trolls in droves for the Empire rather than merely hunting dangerous lusii. Whether exaggerated or not hardly mattered. Fear spreads easier than truth on Alternia. He stopped stepping onto land whenever possible. By this stage he was no longer merely an Orphaner. He had become the longest-lived and most productive executioner the Empire had ever maintained. And through all of it, Mindfang remained. Sometimes enemy. Sometimes confidant. Sometimes something far worse. -𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 Around the 410th Imperial Sweep By the height of the rebellion surrounding The Signless, Dualscar and Mindfang had long since stopped wasting driftwood and cannon fire upon one another. Instead they met privately. Hours within the brig of one ship or the other. Threats. Arguments. Attempted murders. The sort of relationship only Alternia could cultivate. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 490th Imperial Sweep This was the end of Dualscar. He traded heavily for a particular Jadeblood slave connected to the rebellion. He never learned her name. He never cared to. Her appearance alone fascinated him. Ancient. Exhausted. Older than himself. Older than the Empress. Yet still carrying an unnatural youthfulness to her features. She reminded him of the Rainbow Drinkers from gothic fiction. The old horror stories written by Bram Trollker and others alike. He had gifted her to the Marquise. His Kismesis, who, at the time, he was aiming for Vacillation with. She enjoyed it, so much, that it entered her flush. What he was aiming for. In his rage, he had slain the Jadeblood. Often forgetting whether it was his own actions or that of an assassin. Either way, his kismesistude was ended with the Marquise. Dualscar fled from his own ship during daylight hours so she could not pursue him directly. In desperation he sought refuge within the chambers of the Grand Highblood. Instead, he found death. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 Post-Death Within the dream bubbles he eventually encountered his descendant, Eridan Ampora. He viewed the boy as a disappointment. Eridan had failed the Heiress. Failed imperial devotion. Even abandoned Ahab's Crosshairs before dying at the hands of a Jadeblood. Eventually, though, forgiveness came. Or something close enough to it. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 Post-Game Era At some point after death, some variation of Jane Crocker restored Dualscar to life. But the resurrection left him hollow. Alternia was gone. No hemospectrum. No lusii. No purpose. He became a relic stranded upon a world that no longer understood what he had once been. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 Present Day Now he carries the mantle of Gameward. He watches over a somewhat prosperous island beneath the loose authority of Crocker-affiliated powers. He lives mostly alone. #fishingfriday remains mandatory for him due to the weekly medication schedules required for certain wildlife under his care. Though softened compared to the monster Alternia created, Dualscar remains harsher, crueler, and more violent than nearly anyone around him. A relic of a dead empire still trying to behave as though that empire never fell.
#fishingfriday :)
BE ME. CALIBORN. THE ONE WHO IS WRITING THIS. NOT THE ONE WHO IS BEING WRITTEN ABOuT. THAT DISTINCTION IS IMPORTANT. BECAuSE I AM REAL. AND CALLIE BHORNE IS FICTIONAL. BuT ALSO. IN A DEEPER SENSE. HE IS REALER THAN YOu. BECAuSE I SAID SO. AND I AM REAL AS IT GETS. DISBELIEF. SuSPENDED. CALLIE BHORNE. CALI B. REAL. THIS IS NOW NOT ABOuT ME. EXCEPT IT IS PRIMARILY ABOuT ME. IN A VICARIOuS SENSE. BuT SECONDARILY. IT IS ABOuT CALLIE BHORNE. MY CHARACTER. THAT I HAVE MADE. FOR THIS EPIC GODDAMN SAGA. CALLED. #LAIRSANDLuSII. WHICH SOuNDS LIKE A DOCTOR SEuSS ASS NuRSERY RHYME. BuT APPARENTLY. IF ITS HOST IS TO BE BELIEVED. IS A HORROR ROLEPLAY SCENARIO. WHICH IS FuNNY. BECAuSE THE ONLY HORROR HERE IS HOW POWERFuL I AM ABOuT TO MAKE THIS MOTHERFuCKER BEFORE YOuR GOBSMACKED GODDAMN GANDERBuLBS. SQuEAKY HANDS SCRuBBING THEM SEE WORTHY AGAIN. A RECAP. INTERMISSION. BEFORE WE BEGIN. LET ME TELL YOu ABOuT CALLIE BHORNE. HE IS A LIME BLOOD. WHICH IS RARE. AND ALSO EXTINCT. EXCEPT FOR HIM. BECAuSE HE KILLED EVERYONE WHO TRIED TO MAKE HIM EXTINCT. WHICH KEPT HIM THE SOLE ENDLING SuRVIVOR OF THE SLAuGHTER. AFTER uSING HIS SPECIAL ABILITY. EMPEROR LORDLING TIME. WHICH LETS HIM CHANNEL HIS DEAD SISTER. CALLIE OHPEEE. WHO HE DEVOuRED AND SCRAMBLED. STRAIGHT OuT THE GATE. POST EGG HATCH. SIPHONING HER POWER. TO INCREASE HIS OWN. EFFICACY. WHICH IS A WORD I uSED BECAuSE IT SOuNDS IMPORTANT. HE IS A PALADIN. OATH OF CONQuEST. WHICH IS LIKE AN ORDINARY PALADIN. BuT INSTEAD OF HEALING AND PROTECTING. HE CONQuERS AND DESTROYS. BECAuSE PROTECTION IS FOR COWARDS. AND HEALING IS FOR THE WEAK AND NEEDY LITTLE SNIVELING FuCKSTuPID COWARDS. FuRTHERMORE. WEAKNESS IS A DISEASE THAT MuST BE STEPPED ON. CRuSHED. AND THEN QuARANTINED TO THE AFTERLIFE. WHERE IT WILL NEVER RETuRN FROM. HE IS CuRRENTLY SITTING. ON THE ALABSTER CAIRO CASINO PHAROAH SARSWAPAGuS THRONE. WHICH IS A SACRED LIME BLOOD ARTIFACT. THAT ALLOWS THEM TO COMMuNE WITH THEIR DEAD SISTERS. IF THEY HAVE ANY. WHICH HE DOES. BECAuSE HE KILLED HER. YOu ALL SAW. I WROTE THAT. AND YOu SAW. STuDIOuS LITTLE NOTETAKERS THAT YOu NO DOuBT ARE. YOu CAN SEE IT HERE NOW WITHOuT HAVING TO LOOK AWAY FROM MY WORDS IF YOu HAVE FORGOTTEN. AND NOW SHE IS HAuNTING HIM. WHICH IS QuITE POETIC. EXEuNT INTERMISSION. BEGIN. ACT NONE. SESSION ZERO. THE THRONE IS GLOWING. A MYSTERIOuS WIND HOWLS. THE WINDOWLESS ROOM CuRIOuSLY CRADLES THE AIR IN A SuRREPTIOuS BREEZE THAT COMES FROM SEEMINGLY FuCKING NOWHERE. THAT IS BECAuSE THE THRONE ITSELF. HAS BECOME LINKED TO A FAR AND STRANGE LAND. uNFAMILIAR ENTIRELY TO CALLIE BHORNE. HE DOES NOT KNOW IT YET. MERELY REACTS ON INFLuENCE. HIS FAuLTY PASSIVE PERCEPTION WEATHERED BY HIS YEARS AS MuSCLE FOR HIRE. HE FEELS A TWITCHY SPASM IN HIS WRIST. HIS INSTINCTS COMMAND HIM TO DRAW HIS SWORD. BuT HE REFuSES. HE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO RESORT TO WANTON AGGRESSION WITHOuT A TARGET. THE THINKPAN WILL OVERHEAT. SENDING SCORCHING THOuGHTS EVERYWHERE THAT BLINDINGLY ERASE ALL MOVEMENT uNTIL A SAFE DISTANCE IS OBSERVED FROM ALL LIVING THINGS. CALLIE BHORNE WOuLD MAKE CORPSES OF PARADISE FOR THE ELYSIuM FIELDS OF HIS OWN ISOLATION MADE PuRE AND PRISTINE ONCE AGAIN. THIS IS HIS DREADED CuRSE. TO WALK A PLANET HE WOuLD SOONER RAIZE THAN RAISE. HE CANNOT BE KNOWN TO LOVE. HE CANNOT RISK FEELING. AND HE CANNOT CHANCE A SINGLE LIVING BEING. EVER. AND YET. THERE IS THAT HOWLING. THAT WIND. THAT DAMNABLE FuCKING WIND. "TSK." CALLIE BHORNE GROWLS. ANOTHER FuCKING REPAIR NEEDED. NOBODY EVER TOLD HIM BEING A LIVING RELIC MEANT LIVING IN ONE. BYGONE ERAS HAVE A FuNNY WAY OF STICKING AROuND. CALLIE BHORNE TAKES THIS AS EVIDENCE. THAT CALLIE OHPEEE IS FuCKING WITH HIM. WHICH IS FuNNY. BECAuSE SHE PROBABLY DID NOT ACTuALLY DO THAT. BECAuSE SHE HATES HIM TO SCREW WITH HIM IN A CLEVER WAY. BECAuSE HE DEVOuRED HER. BuT THE FASTEST WAY. TO A GRIZZLED VETERAN'S HEART. IS THROuGH HIS STOMACH. A PLACE THAT CALLIE OHPEEE HAS BEEN. QuITE FATALLY. SHE LOVES HIM. EVEN IF HE WILL NOT SAY. WHICH IS WHY. uPON DISCOVERY THE THRONE ITSELF OPENS TO A TRANSPORTALIZED DIMENSION. ANOTHER WORLD. OR PLACE. OR LAND. OR BIOME. THE BLINDING LIGHT MAKES IT TRuLY DIFFICuLT TO TELL. HE REALIZES THE TRuTH. "NO FuCKING WAY." CALLIE OHPEEE HAS BLESSED THIS CRuSADE. HER FACE APPEARS FOR A BRIEF MOMENT. SHE LOOKS. STRANGE. uGLY. SHE ASSuMES ANOTHER OF HER FORMS MEANT TO TORMENT HIM. A GREEN SKuLL. STAINED WITH THE SLICK LIME BLOOD SHE WAS COATED IN WHEN HE FIRST DEVOuRED HER. HIS MOuTH WATERS. HE HAS NEVER FOuND A GRuBSAuCE SO DELECTABLE AS HIS FIRST MEAL. HE LITERALLY ATE THE EGGSHELL SHE HATCHED OuT OF. FOR ADDITIONAL NuTRIENTS. THAT SAuCE WAS SO FuCKING GOOD. ONLY NOW. AT LEAST IN APPEARANCE. THE BLOOD WAS BAD. VERY VERY BAD. LEFT TO COAGuLATE. ROT. ADHERE. AND THICKEN. LIKE A KIND OF ALMOST REPTILIAN HIDE. IF HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY WERE HIS LuSuS. WHAT WAS THIS? A HATCHMATE OVERREACH OF SOME KIND? SISTERLY SOBBING? BITCHING AND MOANING? uPON CLOSER INSPECTION. THE ANSWER BECAME MuCH CLEARER. LITTLE PINPRICK DRIPS OF RED. FRISKING ALONG HIS BODY. CALIBORN FINDS IT. A FRESHLY INFLICTED WOuND THAT WAS NOT THERE BEFORE. JuST ALONG HIS THORAX. THE uPPER CHIFFONIER. AS IF ANGLING FOR HIS BLOODPuSHER WITH EACH DARTED FINGER. HER WAY OF SAYING. THIS QuEST COuLD PROVE DEADLY. ALTHOuGH. CALLIE BHORNE WAS uNSuRE. EVEN CALIBORN WAS LIKE. GIRL WHAT THE FuCK IS YOu ON. THERE COuLD BE NO CERTAINTIES WHEN DEALING WITH HER. "HEH. GuESS MY HATCHMATE IS STILL LOOKING OuT FOR ME AFTER ALL THESE SWEEPS. SOME LOVE. HuH? SHE'S GOT A FuNNY WAY OF SHOWING IT." AND THEN. uNFuRLED. IS MY BLADE. READY TO BE BuRIED IN THE NECKS OF DuMBFuCKS. LOCATION: THE TRIBuNAL HALL OF SuPREME CAVORT. STOMPING GROuNDS OF HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY. EATING GROuNDS ALSO. THIS IS WHERE CALLIE BHORNE LIVES. BECAuSE HE IS SPECIAL. AND RAISED BY A BELOATHED BY ALL TYRANT. THE ROOM HAS COuNTLESS WEATHERED BONES SHAVED DOWN SO AS TO RESEMBLE MARBLE COLuMNS. BuT THEY ARE THICK. LIKE CEDAR WOOD TRuNKS. AND SPLINTERED. SO AS TO SuGGEST THE BEATING OF ANGRY FISTS. CLAWED AND CHEWED. SO AS TO SuGGEST THE CLuTCHING OF VERY DESPERATE HANDS DRAGGED OFF INTO OPEN MOuTH. AND BLOOD. SO MuCH BLOOD. THE THRONE ITSELF. HOWEVER. IS CLEAN. AN EXHIBIT ALMOST. EVIDENCE. OF TIME'S TRAGIC PASSING. A RELIC OF THE LIMES. LIKE MANY OF THE CONFISCATED LEGENDARY ITEMS HERE. THOuGH CALLIE BHORNE FANCIES HIMSELF SOMETHING OF A TROLL WITH AN EYE FOR ANTIQuES SPORTING SEASONED HISTORY BEHIND THEM. THESE ITEMS ARE ONLY ACQuIRED WHEN SOMEONE TRIES TO SMuGGLE OR SELL THE ILLICIT CONTRABAND. IN FACT. WERE IT NOT FOR HIS LuSuS. AND SLAPDASH CHARM. CALLIE WOuLD CERTAINLY BE KILLED FOR HIS EXTENSIVE BEWEARABLE WARES ALONE. OWNING THESE IS ILLEGAL. BuT CONFISCATING THEM. IS JuST ANOTHER TuESDAY. OR WHATEVER THE TROLL EQuIVALENT OF A TuESDAY IS. PROBABLY CHEWSDAY. IT IS JuST ANOTHER CHEWSDAY. INTERRuPTION: HE WAS COMMuNING. WITH HIS DEAD SISTER. OR AT LEAST TRYING TO. HIS HATCHMATE IS OFT uNRELIABLE. WHICH IS A SPECIAL KIND OF ESPECIALLY HIGH uNRELIABILITY. BuT THEN. THE SESSION. OR WHATEVER EXCITING COSMIC BuLLSHIT IS RuNNING THIS GAME. DECIDED TO INTERRuPT. WITH A PORTAL. OR AN APERTuRE. OR WHATEVER WHITE GLOWING BuLLSHIT YOu PEOPLE ARE uSING. I WANT TO KEEP MY WHITENESS CONSISTENT. IF WE ARE ALL DOING A WHITE THING. I WANT TO DO THE SAME WHITE THING. OTHERWISE I WILL FEEL LEFT OuT. AND THAT WOuLD BE REALLY SHITTY OF YOu GuYS. SO MAKE MY WHITE THING BE THE SAME AS YOuR WHITE THING. HOW THE SuMMONS APPEARS: THROuGH THE THRONE. OBVIOuSLY. THE GLOWING INTENSIFIES. AND INSTEAD OF JuST SHOWING CALLIE OHPEEE. WHICH IS WHAT IT uSuALLY SHOWS. IN MIDDLING LITTLE APPARITION LIKE OuTLINES. AND DEAD SISTER MONTAGE. AND LIMITLESS PATIENCE FOR ME. HER HATCHMATE. AND MY SILLY ANTICS. IT SHOWS SOMETHING ELSE. A LAIR. OR WHATEVER. MAKE IT SOMETHING APPROPRIATE. ACTuALLY. COuLD IT BE. LIKE. A THRONE ROOM. BuT BIGGER. AND WITH MORE BODIES. OR A FIELD OF CONQuERED ENEMIES. OR A CASINO. WHERE EVERYONE IS LOSING. EXCEPT HIM. CALLIE NEVER LOSES. EH. DOC. SCRATCH THAT. CALLIE NEVER HAS LOST. BECAuSE HE REFuSES TO GIVE uP. HE ALWAYS TRIES. AND RETRIES. EVEN IN THE FACE OF ABSOLuTE SuREFIRE DEFEAT. HE WRENCHES VICTORY FROM HIS OWN JAWS. THAT IS WHAT I MEANT TO SAY OF HIM. YES. SO DECIDE. A VISION THAT CALLS FOR HIM. PERHAPS. SOMEONE IN NEED? YES. THAT WOuLD BE GENIuS. CALLIE IS EXTRAORDINARILY NEEDABLE. AND WILLING TO MAKE HIS TROLLIAN CLAWS. AN OuTSTRETCHED SORT. WHAT YOu GLIMPSE: SOMETHING THAT REPRESENTS POWER. AND DOMINATION. AND VICTORY. BuT ALSO. SECRETLY. SOMETHING THAT REPRESENTS HIS SISTER. IN SOME ROuNDABOuT WAY. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT FOR HIS CHARACTERIZATION. HOW YOuR LuSuS OR SuRROuNDINGS REACT: HIS LuSuS HOWLS WITH EARSPLITTING INTENSITY. HIS HONORABLE TYRANNY. HuGE GROSS MONSTER. BLACK BLOOD. BRAINLESS BEASTIE. HE LETS OuT A ROAR. OR SOMETHING EQuALLY TERRIBLE. AND IT DOES NOT REACT WITH FEAR. BECAuSE IT DOES NOT FEEL FEAR. IT REACTS WITH RECOGNITION. LIKE. "OH. MY SON. CALLIE BHORNE. HAS BEEN SuMMONED FOR ANOTHER ADVENTuRE. HOW REGuLAR. AND ORDINARY. BE SuRE TO KILL AND PARTIALLY CANNIBALIZE PLENTY OF PEOPLE. MY SWEET. CHERuBICALLY CHARMING BOY." AND CALLIE BRuSHES HIS THuMB. AGAINST HIS VERY EXISTANT NOSE. AND GOES. "TSK. SHuT uP FATHER. I AM GROWN NOW. I AM NOT SOME HELPLESS LITTLE PuPA ANYMORE." AND HE GROWLS. SOMBERLY. "I KNOW. BuT WHEN I LOOK uPON MY SON. MY HERO. MY LITTLE LEGISLACERITO. I DO NOT SEE YOu AS YOu ARE. I SEE YOu. AS WHAT YOu HAVE BECOME. FROM WHAT YOu WERE. A WEIGHTED AVERAGE. SuNDERED BY MY SINKING HEART." AND HE GOES. "HMP. WHATEVER DAD. LOVEYOuTOO." AND HIS DAD SCREECHES LOuDLY. "MY SON!!!" OR MAYBE IT DOES NOT SAY ANYTHING. AND JuST. GROWLS. APPROVINGLY. WHATEVER WOuLD BE COOLER. WHAT PART OF YOu ANSWERS FIRST: NOT FEAR. HE DOES NOT FEEL FEAR. JuST LIKE HIS FATHER. HE FEELS ANTICIPATION. THE PART THAT WANTS TO CONQuER. THE PART THAT WANTS TO DEVOuR. THE PART THAT LOOKS AT A MYSTERIOuS PORTAL AND THINKS. "YES. MORE uNSETTLED SCORES. AND WRONGS TO RIGHT." OR POSSIBLY. THE PART THAT HEARS HIS SISTER. WHISPERING. FROM THE THRONE. SAYING. "DONT GO. YOu IDIOT. ITS A TRAP. A DEADLY FuCKING TRAP." BuT HE IGNORES HER. BECAuSE HE IS THE PALADIN. NOT THE PALADIN'T. YOuR FINAL ACTION: CALLIE. DOES NOT. uNDER ANY CIRCuMSTANCES. SHOW HESITATION. HESITATION IS FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT CALLIE BHORNE. AND THEREFORE. NOT ME. BECAuSE I MADE HIM. AND I AM ALSO NEVER HESITANT. EXCEPT WHEN I AM. WHICH IS NEVER. ALTHOuGH. THERE WAS THAT ONE TIME. BuT I WAS MERELY. READYING AN ATTACK. AN ASSBLAST ATTACK THAT PROVED FATAL. FOR MY ENEMIES. SO IT IS LESS A HESITATION. AND MORE A READYING POSE. WHICH IS WHAT HE STRIKES. BEFORE SAYING SOMETHING REALLY FuCKING COOL. LIKE. "...WELL WELL WELL. IS THIS THE PART. WHERE I TOSS IN A QuARTER AND MAKE A WISH?" OR. "THE THRONE BECKONS. QuIT YOuR BITCHING. I'M LITERALLY COMING RIGHT NOW." OR. "CALLIE OHPEEE. WATCH OVER FATHER FOR ME WHILE I AM GONE. OKAY?" OR JuST. "...CONQuEST CALLS." WHATEVER HE SAYS. PROBABLY ALL OF THESE THINGS. HE IS NOT NICE. HE IS GRIZZLED AND EDGY. HE ATE HIS SISTER AND REGRETS NOTHING EXCEPT THAT HE COuLD NOT EAT HER TWICE. HE IS A MONSTER. AND HE IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER. BECAuSE HE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO uNDERSTANDS ME.
I WANT YOu TO THINK ABOuT THE WORDS THAT YOu JuST TYPED. REAL LONG AND HARD. AND ASK YOuRSELF. IF YOu CAN IDENTIFY A SINGLE uSE CASE. uNIVERSALLY. FOR THE PREVIOuSLY DESCRIBED. "MOMMY BODY". GET CREATIVE. LuRIDLY IMAGINATIVE.
TARGET PRACTICE. THE ANSWER. IS TARGET PRACTICE.
are yoU often haUnted by visions of me, caliborn?
Callie Bhorne, welcome to the realm of the Narrative. I do hope you enjoy your stay. The Narrative and its Session have correctly catalogued you. Standby for the other players to make their moves.
This is a kickass character intro. I think my fav line was "BECAuSE HE IS THE PALADIN. NOT THE PALADIN'T." That's great
I HAVE LITERALLY NEVER SEEN YOu BEFORE IN MY LIFE. ALSO. THIS IS CALLIE BHORNE. HE BEARS FuCKING NO RELATION TO ME WHATSOEVER. BEYOND BEING MY CREATION. FOR A BOOKISH GIRL. YOu SuRE ARE FuNCTIONALLY ILLITERATE SOMETIMES. BuT YES.
I ENJOY YOuR WORDS OF PRAISE. YOu CAN REMAIN FOR THE CHRONICLED SAGA AND ADVENTuRES. OF CALLIE BHORNE. AND THE OTHERS. WHO WILL NO DOuBT BE JOINING HIM ON HIS QuEST. VERY FuCKING SOON. I WILL HAVE MORE ZINGERS. AND ONE LINERS. IN THE FuTuRE.
ok.
( Ꮚ‾̀ꈊ ‾̀Ꮚ); < Awwww, I love seein' folks engagin' with the idea of limeblood OCS!!! They're so underserviced 'n overlooked...!!!!! Words can't describe how much of a bummer it'd be if all interest was lost...but I love yer critter conceit! Ain't never heard of a fantroll with HHT as the Lusus...!!! Apropos, Caliborn! Even if it don't make...all the sense in the world...how 'xactly that'd work...uehh... ( Ꮚ⚀ꈊ⚀Ꮚ) < LIKE CALLIE OHPEEE THE SPIRIT IS THERE! HUZZAH!!!!
(=^･⩊･^=) < CALLIE BHORNE IS SUCH A COOL OC!! I'M SO GLAD MEW'RE LETTING MEWR CREATIVE JUICES RUN AND CREATE SUCH INTERESTING CONCEPTS AND LORE FUR MEWR CHARACTER! I'M SO PURROUD OF MEW!
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 OOC Muse Specific Information. (ADDENDUM) I do roleplay NSFW and above, it's Dualscar, he is basically default NSFW #nsfw #ooc #lore #nsfwe? Don't involve him in Anonymous Submission Posts, or anything regarding him or his relationship(s). It's weird to be obsessed with my muse like that. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 230th Imperial Sweep Hatched Cronus Ampora, he was a culler from hatching. The Empire had uses for highbloods, and he was shaped into one of those uses before he could properly understand what that meant. Violence was not taught to him. It was expected. By six sweeps, as demanded by Alternian custom, he culled his own lusus. Not out of hatred. Not even out of cruelty. Merely because this was the path laid before him. The first true act of the Orphaner. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 236th Imperial Sweep His youth was spent in the presence of Meenah Peixes. The two were close. Closer than perhaps either of them should have allowed. Their relations drifted dangerously near moiraillegiance in those younger sweeps, before duty and imperial paranoia poisoned the possibility of it. At the same time, the would-be Orphaner spent long stretches near Gl'bgolyb herself. Conditioning his pan against her horrid psychic wailing. Preparing himself for a lifetime beneath the shadow of the Empire. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 239th Imperial Sweep It was during the Royal Courts that he earned the name Dualscar. He spoke out of line before the Empress. A mistake. A singular mistake. The 2x3Dent narrowly missed culling him outright and instead left him permanently scarred. The wound remained across him for the rest of his life. A reminder to himself and everyone else of what becomes of those who fail to respect imperial authority. From then onward, he was no longer merely Cronus Ampora. He was Dualscar. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 240th - 246th Imperial Sweeps As he aged, his attachment to the Empress curdled into flushed longing. Dangerous longing. The sort of longing that could only end in execution if spoken aloud. She, however, grew increasingly wary of him. She understood what her future required. Dualscar had no place within it. Around these same sweeps, he shared a brief spark of kismesissitude with the The Grand Highblood. But neither of them could truly hate the other enough to sustain it. The quadrant withered before it could properly bloom. Still, his work flourished. As for his role as Orphaner? Dualscar was a natural. Culling was already a highblood specialty. Give one a legendary weapon such as Ahab's Crosshairs and suddenly very few things on Alternia remained beyond their reach. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 247th Imperial Sweep At seventeen sweeps, Dualscar first crossed paths with Marquise Spinneret Mindfang. He did not think much of it at the time. Pirates were not his jurisdiction. Letting her go seemed harmless enough. Lightning rarely struck twice. Ahab's Crosshairs, however, certainly did. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 247th - 330th Imperial Sweeps Over the following sweeps, the rivalry between Dualscar and Mindfang became something far uglier than simple conflict. Their clashes turned personal. Then intimate. Then venomous. Quadrants bled together beneath cannon fire and threats whispered behind closed doors. For a time they remained evenly matched. Dualscar stood at the peak of physical prowess while possessing not a single psychic advantage. Mindfang, meanwhile, became increasingly manipulative and mentally fortified with every passing sweep. As the centuries passed, Dualscar became something almost mythological among imperial circles. Rebels whispered stories of the Orphaner that culled trolls in droves for the Empire rather than merely hunting dangerous lusii. Whether exaggerated or not hardly mattered. Fear spreads easier than truth on Alternia. He stopped stepping onto land whenever possible. By this stage he was no longer merely an Orphaner. He had become the longest-lived and most productive executioner the Empire had ever maintained. And through all of it, Mindfang remained. Sometimes enemy. Sometimes confidant. Sometimes something far worse. -𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 Around the 410th Imperial Sweep By the height of the rebellion surrounding The Signless, Dualscar and Mindfang had long since stopped wasting driftwood and cannon fire upon one another. Instead they met privately. Hours within the brig of one ship or the other. Threats. Arguments. Attempted murders. The sort of relationship only Alternia could cultivate. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 490th Imperial Sweep This was the end of Dualscar. He traded heavily for a particular Jadeblood slave connected to the rebellion. He never learned her name. He never cared to. Her appearance alone fascinated him. Ancient. Exhausted. Older than himself. Older than the Empress. Yet still carrying an unnatural youthfulness to her features. She reminded him of the Rainbow Drinkers from gothic fiction. The old horror stories written by Bram Trollker and others alike. He had gifted her to the Marquise. His Kismesis, who, at the time, he was aiming for Vacillation with. She enjoyed it, so much, that it entered her flush. What he was aiming for. In his rage, he had slain the Jadeblood. Often forgetting whether it was his own actions or that of an assassin. Either way, his kismesistude was ended with the Marquise. Dualscar fled from his own ship during daylight hours so she could not pursue him directly. In desperation he sought refuge within the chambers of the Grand Highblood. Instead, he found death. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 Post-Death Within the dream bubbles he eventually encountered his descendant, Eridan Ampora. He viewed the boy as a disappointment. Eridan had failed the Heiress. Failed imperial devotion. Even abandoned Ahab's Crosshairs before dying at the hands of a Jadeblood. Eventually, though, forgiveness came. Or something close enough to it. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 Post-Game Era At some point after death, some variation of Jane Crocker restored Dualscar to life. But the resurrection left him hollow. Alternia was gone. No hemospectrum. No lusii. No purpose. He became a relic stranded upon a world that no longer understood what he had once been. 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 Present Day Now he carries the mantle of Gameward. He watches over a somewhat prosperous island beneath the loose authority of Crocker-affiliated powers. He lives mostly alone. #fishingfriday remains mandatory for him due to the weekly medication schedules required for certain wildlife under his care. Though softened compared to the monster Alternia created, Dualscar remains harsher, crueler, and more violent than nearly anyone around him. A relic of a dead empire still trying to behave as though that empire never fell.
Updated m' bi-0-0-graphy, as it is finally th' reel deal. S0 they say.
Listen, the big bastard's been tr-o-o-uncin' \/\/\/\/-o-o-uld-be usurpers since I \/\/\/\/as slitherin' ab-0-0-ut m' skulkbr-0-0-od as a grub. There are phot0graphs 0' me in th'palm a his fr-o-o-nds. I'\/\/e al\/\/\/\/ays been d\/\/\/\/arfed by him. I'm just glad I ain't \/\/\/\/ithin range anym-0-0-re.
This comment thread made my tummy hurt, Gameward.
Hehehehehehe.
My mistake.
Hell0, lass.
G-o-o--o-o-d evening!!!! D-o-o- y-o-o-u have anything fun planned t-o-o-day? :)
Naut particularly. G-0-0-in' t' find m'\/\/\/\/ay t'th'mainland. Naut hard. B-0-0-at \/\/\/\/e'll sea \/\/\/\/here it lands me.
That's fun! T-o-o-day is Caelum's wriggling day, s-o-o- I am suffering the h-o-o-t and the humidity t-o-o- bake him a cake! :)
-0-0-h, hrm. \/\/\/\/hale hope he enj-o-o-ys it. H0\/\/\/\/ 0ld is the lad?
Uhhhh. Sixteen sweeps! If I'm remembering pr-o-o-per!
As much as I find m'self hatin' that I ain't seen m'kismesis in a little \/\/\/\/hile, I cannae help but kno\/\/\/\/ that like \/\/\/\/ine, hate ferments \/\/\/\/it' time.
@chillerAficionad-o-o- Aye.
OMINOUS mention.
S-o-o-metimes, the restraint required t'persist -o-o-n Earth eludes me.
38?
\/\/\/\/0rry naut, Heiress.
Worrying anyways! 38P YOU CAN'T T-ELL M-E W)(AT TO DO! 38O
Hrn. #fishingFriday
Hrn. I barely got a #bulgerating. Fuck that guy. Pri\/\/ate readins are ass. #nsf\/\/\/\/
꧁ssssorry꧂
Hrn, didn't e\/\/en get t-o-o- g-o-o- fishin' yester. A bit fucked in th'head, don't ye think?
🌹 Reminiscing ⬡n last wipe's #fishingfriday. Such incredible times were had. The vig⬡r⬡us thrusting ⬡f ⬡ur r⬡ds was s⬡mething t⬡ beh⬡ld. @cerbericAp⬡stle - MC R⬡se🌹
That \/\/\/\/eird'n in the back is starin' at m's-o-o-ul.
indeed, chairman, i dare say the wvwavwes wvwe wvwere making in that poor lake wvwould havwe scared all the fish awvway wvwere it not for the beautiful bait wvwe had found betwvween us. i still remember the wvway it felt to look you in the eyes like a man and put my squiggly wvworm in your hand. fish on!
Hmmm!! #fishingfriday but I d-o-o-n't kn-o-o-w if I wanna release THIS catch 😇
gotta maximize the amount a land dwwellers i take wwith me just in case those twwin messiahs are real promisin me 144 desirable wwenches in the after life
I d-o-o-n't kn-o-o-w ab-o-o-ut that -o-o-ne, chief.
listen youre already on a limited time to livve like a ping packet across the splinternet i dont havve concern myself wwith cullin you because the big bastards gonna crumple you into a fuckin ragdoll also if youre gonna refer to me as your superior i much prefer master lord king an commodore
"The big bastard's g-o-o-nna crumple y-o-o-u int-o-o- a fuckin' ragd-o-o-ll" GEE I SURE H-O-O-PE HE D-O-O-ES.
N-o-o-t a h-o-o-e if I'm c-o-o-urting -o-o-ne man? Didn't kn-o-o-w the educati-o-o-n system f-o-o-r vi-o-o-lets dipped s-o-o- l-o-o-w these days. N-o-o-w that's a damn shame.
S-o-o- that basically still means n-o-o-thing. G-o-o- play in y-o-o-ur r-o-o--o-o-m, Juni-o-o-r.
lotta human nomenclature there relearn your alternian roots and stop congregatin wwith the apespawwn
I'm g-o-o-ing t-o-o- g-o-o- ahead and n-o-o-t d-o-o- a thing y-o-o-u tell me t-o-o-, -o-o-kay? Get well s-o-o--o-o-n!
#FishingFriday
T0 the little remora presently circling @audaciousC-0-0-nfident \/\/\/\/ith y-o-o-ur limp scraps -0-0-f b-0-0-rr-0-0-\/\/\/\/ed bra\/\/ad-0-0-: y-0-0-u are not c0urting her. Y-o-o-u are not rescuing her. Y0u are n0t -o-o-ffering s0me grander tide than the one she has already chosen t-0-0- stand in. Ye are treatin' her \/\/\/\/it' th' same le\/\/el -0-0-' care, c-o-o-ncern, an' affecti-o-o-n as a hermit crab d0es an-0-0-ther's shell. "I could li\/\/e in there and be happier!" Yet, ye dunnae speak to her. Ye just stir shit, because that's all y-0-0-u kn-o-o-\/\/\/\/ h-0-0-\/\/\/\/ t'd-0-0-. \/\/\/\/hat \/\/\/\/ould ye kn0\/\/\/\/ -o-o-' me, hrm? \/\/\/\/hat d0 ye kn0\/\/\/\/ 0' her? Clearly, yer naut some-0-0-ne she kn0\/\/\/\/s. Because e\/\/ery tr-o-o-ll that kn0\/\/\/\/s her treats her \/\/\/\/it' th'respect she's earned. R-o-o-rian deser\/\/es many things. H0nesty. De\/\/-o-o-ti0n. A hand that d-o-o-es n-0-0-t tremble \/\/\/\/hen it reaches f-o-o-r hers. A name attached t-0-0- the m0uth making pr-o-o-mises. Y0u ha\/\/e supplied n-0-0-ne -0-0-f these. You ha\/\/e supplied only an-0-0-nym-0-0-us ink, cheap en\/\/y, and the staggering assumpti0n that a hidden \/\/\/\/0rm may c-0-0-mpare itself t-0-0- a captain. As f0r “that -o-o-ld sail-0-0-r.” Fossils are \/\/\/\/hat remain after s-o-o-fter things r-0-0-t a\/\/\/\/ay. Remember that bef-0-0-re y-o-o-u speak of age, danger, -o-o-r \/\/\/\/hat y-o-o-u imagine y-0-0-urself capable -o-o-f gi\/\/ing her. S-0-0-me relics are preser\/\/ed because the \/\/\/\/orld could n-0-0-t break them. M'depths are as dark and \/\/\/\/retched as can be. I ain't -0-0-ne t'hide the truth. I'\/\/e sp-o-o-ken plenty. C-o-o-ntinue, if y-o-o-u must. Send an-o-o-ther n-0-0-te. Flatter yourself \/\/\/\/ith the fantasy that secrecy makes y-o-o-u safe. But understand this: e\/\/ery b-0-0-ttle t0ssed int-o-o- my sea finds a shore. E\/\/ery little message has a current. E\/\/ery an-o-o-nym-o-o-us admirer e\/\/entually learns that there is n0 such thing as sh0uting fr0m beneath a mask \/\/\/\/hen the \/\/\/\/a\/\/es themsel\/\/es kn-0-0-\/\/\/\/ y-o-o-ur \/\/0ice. Keep circling, little fish. Y-o-o-u are n-o-o-thin' but a sca\/\/enger. B-o-o-tt-o-o-m feeder. \/\/\/\/asteful. N-o-o-thin'. Or, again. Ye can pr-o-o-\/\/e me \/\/\/\/r-o-o-ng. Profess yer l-o-o-\/\/e. \/\/\/\/in her -o-o-'er. Pr-0-0-\/\/e y0u're somethin' m-0-0-re than just an agitator. This'll b'th'last time I ackno\/\/\/\/ledge ye until ye sh-o-o-\/\/\/\/ yer face.
#fishingfriday Naut 0nly is it Fishin' Friday, b0at I'\/\/e got quite a catch already. @audaciousConfident
MAY YOUR STAY BE UNFORGETTABLE 🗝「Happy Fishing Friday, Dualscar.」
Thank ye, D0ork.
Hehe! Y-o-o-u're g-o-o-ing t-o-o- make me blush!!
I dunnae see a pra\/\/\/\/nblem \/\/\/\/it' this.
⚗ no, i ☾AN'T ☾ome in to work tonight, my ar☾ane requirements are UNIQUE and so i need to pra☾ti☾e. my. ☾ASTING. you will MANAGE without me.
M'flippers ain't c0min' out fer free.
Dang. Back t-o-o- the drawing b-o-o-ard.
Rorian. Naur.
Kidding! I'm kidding!!
Hrn.
If ye \/\/\/\/ant Rorian, then say it. Hidin' behind th' little Cupid Troll only means yer \/\/\/\/0rth less than the digital signals that carry yer empty \/\/\/\/ords.
Sh0uld'\/\/e c0nsidered th'p0ssibility that 1/4 trolls in a kn0\/\/\/\/n lineage'd'be as stupid as a sack 0' r0cks and half as useful.
‡ at least! ‡
Yer right, I ain't queried to0 many 0' them.