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[ It's a noteworthy question - one that might suggest something about Corvo - but Daud only stares at Corvo, deadpan. ]
I'm not looking for death.
[ He'd been trying to make a life for himself when the nightmares began, when he first realized what had to be done. That the Outsider had to be killed and he would be the one to do it, or to make it somehow happen. Ever since that realization, his life's been only a narrow-focused search for the blade that'll end the bastard. The blade he and Billie were so close to finding. (The blade that some, inexplicably, had nearly killed him.)
(There's a question: If it's true that they've healed something in him, that he's no longer making a fast approach to death, is there some chance of living beyond his mission? And if so, what will he do with the time? What would he possibly do?) ]
And I've had more than my share of fighting.
[ Recently, too. How many times had he entered that ring? He'd never known, never been able to keep track of anything in the baths, much as their contraption ached his mind, much as it tore him apart at every moment, pulling himself away from himself. ]
I'm not looking for death.
[ He'd been trying to make a life for himself when the nightmares began, when he first realized what had to be done. That the Outsider had to be killed and he would be the one to do it, or to make it somehow happen. Ever since that realization, his life's been only a narrow-focused search for the blade that'll end the bastard. The blade he and Billie were so close to finding. (The blade that some, inexplicably, had nearly killed him.)
(There's a question: If it's true that they've healed something in him, that he's no longer making a fast approach to death, is there some chance of living beyond his mission? And if so, what will he do with the time? What would he possibly do?) ]
And I've had more than my share of fighting.
[ Recently, too. How many times had he entered that ring? He'd never known, never been able to keep track of anything in the baths, much as their contraption ached his mind, much as it tore him apart at every moment, pulling himself away from himself. ]
If that's so, then give up this quest.
[Corvo knows Daud is stubborn and will continue to reject that idea, no matter how often Corvo suggests it.
He dips his quill into the ink and signs another form on his desk.]
But if you must, return here when it's done. Better to live your days in comfort here where I can keep an eye on you.
[Corvo's not going to pretend it's all charity. Daud would see right through that.]
[Corvo knows Daud is stubborn and will continue to reject that idea, no matter how often Corvo suggests it.
He dips his quill into the ink and signs another form on his desk.]
But if you must, return here when it's done. Better to live your days in comfort here where I can keep an eye on you.
[Corvo's not going to pretend it's all charity. Daud would see right through that.]
[ He shakes his head; that isn't the point, Corvo. You're missing the point. ]
I'm not looking for death, but if death finds me, so be it.
[ He's ready. Almost died once as it is, so what's one more deathly encounter? (True, he'd rather live. But at a certain point living's no longer an option. And he'd forfeited his right to live when he killed all those people, all those years ago. ]
He has to be killed, Corvo. Whatever you think, whatever your Empress believes, the bastard needs to be killed.
[ After a moment and an incredulous glance: ]
You don't need to keep an eye on me.
I'm not looking for death, but if death finds me, so be it.
[ He's ready. Almost died once as it is, so what's one more deathly encounter? (True, he'd rather live. But at a certain point living's no longer an option. And he'd forfeited his right to live when he killed all those people, all those years ago. ]
He has to be killed, Corvo. Whatever you think, whatever your Empress believes, the bastard needs to be killed.
[ After a moment and an incredulous glance: ]
You don't need to keep an eye on me.
[Corvo doesn't know that the Outsider has to be killed. He's not going to help Daud do it, but he's not going to interfere beyond a few words, either.
At the last part, Corvo looks up and smiles a bit.]
I don't care how old or weak you look. You're not fooling me with that. I'd have a knife on me if I was standing at your deathbed.
[Because no matter how old Daud gets, Corvo is never going to underestimate him.]
At the last part, Corvo looks up and smiles a bit.]
I don't care how old or weak you look. You're not fooling me with that. I'd have a knife on me if I was standing at your deathbed.
[Because no matter how old Daud gets, Corvo is never going to underestimate him.]
[ A moment's irritation transforms slowly into a ghosting smirk. All right, Corvo. All right.
It isn't the worst thing in the world to hear. ]
Huh.
You do as you see fit.
[ Inside, he's still half-coiled, waiting for Corvo to protest against his mission, waiting for some argument or some scheme to keep Daud marooned inside the tower. Only it's beginning to look as if - is it possible? - that won't happen. As if Daud really will be free to go (and return?) as he pleases.
Maybe Corvo realizes there's no stopping what's coming. Maybe he knows it needs to be done.
Or maybe this is all a fever dream, and Daud's still sunk within delirium. ]
If you don't intend to stop me, I'll offer no further complaints.
[ Okay so that might be unlikely. But, uh. It's a nice thought? ]
It isn't the worst thing in the world to hear. ]
Huh.
You do as you see fit.
[ Inside, he's still half-coiled, waiting for Corvo to protest against his mission, waiting for some argument or some scheme to keep Daud marooned inside the tower. Only it's beginning to look as if - is it possible? - that won't happen. As if Daud really will be free to go (and return?) as he pleases.
Maybe Corvo realizes there's no stopping what's coming. Maybe he knows it needs to be done.
Or maybe this is all a fever dream, and Daud's still sunk within delirium. ]
If you don't intend to stop me, I'll offer no further complaints.
[ Okay so that might be unlikely. But, uh. It's a nice thought? ]
[Corvo knows that there's no stopping Daud if he's set on something. Sure, Corvo could try, but it would be a lot of time and energy wasted on both their parts. Besides, as a man who was once driven by revenge, he knows nothing would have come between him and that revenge. The same could be said for Daud.]
Good. I've enough complaints on my desk already.
[Corvo sweeps a hand over the papers to highlight the nature of his agenda today. Daud may, indeed, come and go as he pleases, but Corvo will certainly be watching him.]
Good. I've enough complaints on my desk already.
[Corvo sweeps a hand over the papers to highlight the nature of his agenda today. Daud may, indeed, come and go as he pleases, but Corvo will certainly be watching him.]
[ Funny, Corvo. Funny. ]
You're kept busy.
[ Daud can't say what he thinks of Corvo's position. Can't say what it'd be to stand at the beck and call of so much business, and has never known how to measure Corvo's accomplishments against his own. (Accomplishments? No, his life had been mostly built one mistake upon another. He's going to change that, though. When he ends the black-eyed bastard, he'll change it.) ]
You're kept busy.
[ Daud can't say what he thinks of Corvo's position. Can't say what it'd be to stand at the beck and call of so much business, and has never known how to measure Corvo's accomplishments against his own. (Accomplishments? No, his life had been mostly built one mistake upon another. He's going to change that, though. When he ends the black-eyed bastard, he'll change it.) ]
My daughter is empress, and she trusts me above all others. Especially after some of our own turned against us and helped put Delilah on the throne.
[Emily's trust will not be given away easily again, and until she finds those she feels she can keep confidence with, Corvo is going to suffer the weight of many responsibilities that keep the country running.]
It's hard to find honest people. Those who climb the ranks are too ambitious, but they wouldn't be moving up if they weren't.
[Emily's trust will not be given away easily again, and until she finds those she feels she can keep confidence with, Corvo is going to suffer the weight of many responsibilities that keep the country running.]
It's hard to find honest people. Those who climb the ranks are too ambitious, but they wouldn't be moving up if they weren't.
I know who your daughter is.
[ All right, maybe that didn't need to be said, but the words out out of his mouth, short and almost snapped, before he thinks twice about them.
And Delilah. There's that name again, the one Corvo had mentioned on the Wale (he remembers the conversation clearly, sick as he'd been, half-convinced as he'd been that Corvo was no more than a spirit). The one that rings all too familiar, only it can't have been, can it? ]
This Delilah. How did she...?
[ He trails off because the question he wants to ask is something more like 'Who was she' or 'Was she a witch' or 'Tell me this isn't what I think it is.' ]
[ All right, maybe that didn't need to be said, but the words out out of his mouth, short and almost snapped, before he thinks twice about them.
And Delilah. There's that name again, the one Corvo had mentioned on the Wale (he remembers the conversation clearly, sick as he'd been, half-convinced as he'd been that Corvo was no more than a spirit). The one that rings all too familiar, only it can't have been, can it? ]
This Delilah. How did she...?
[ He trails off because the question he wants to ask is something more like 'Who was she' or 'Was she a witch' or 'Tell me this isn't what I think it is.' ]
[Corvo isn't phased by Daud's bristly attitude. It's practically expected of him.]
She received help from the Duck of Serkonos. I lack every detail. Delilah cast a spell that trapped me in stone. It was as though moments had passed for me while Emily took back our kingdom.
[If Daud wants all the details, he can attempt to ask Emily herself.]
She received help from the Duck of Serkonos. I lack every detail. Delilah cast a spell that trapped me in stone. It was as though moments had passed for me while Emily took back our kingdom.
[If Daud wants all the details, he can attempt to ask Emily herself.]
[ Daud will gnaw off his own foot before he asks Emily anything. It’s bad enough to share a space with her, to risk running into the clearest remaining reminder of what he’d done. (To inflict himself on the one he’d most wronged and saved, both.) He has no right to ask her any such casual questions.
And he isn’t going to drop the subject just yet. ]
You're sure Delilah's dead.
[ Because if she’d returned, it’s hard to believe she’s been silenced for good. Perhaps he should have killed her in the first place; sending her into that painting apparently hadn't been enough. ]
And he isn’t going to drop the subject just yet. ]
You're sure Delilah's dead.
[ Because if she’d returned, it’s hard to believe she’s been silenced for good. Perhaps he should have killed her in the first place; sending her into that painting apparently hadn't been enough. ]
I'm not sure if 'dead' is the word, but I'm sure she won't be back. At least, Emily is certain of it.
[And his daughter's word is good enough for Corvo.]
She's been trapped within a spell. A fantasy. From what I understand of it, Delilah should be content to waste away there.
[And his daughter's word is good enough for Corvo.]
She's been trapped within a spell. A fantasy. From what I understand of it, Delilah should be content to waste away there.
[ He tenses discernibly, eyes narrowing in clear displeasure. ]
That won't be enough.
[ It hadn't been last time, had it? Assuming this is the Delilah he'd known. Assuming she'd somehow found her way back into the world. What's to stop her from tearing free again? The woman's willful, clever, and capable beyond speaking; if she'd freed herself once, she could do it again. ]
She isn't—
If she's who I think she is, that woman's not one to be kept down.
That won't be enough.
[ It hadn't been last time, had it? Assuming this is the Delilah he'd known. Assuming she'd somehow found her way back into the world. What's to stop her from tearing free again? The woman's willful, clever, and capable beyond speaking; if she'd freed herself once, she could do it again. ]
She isn't—
If she's who I think she is, that woman's not one to be kept down.
[Now Daud really has Corvo's attention, though Corvo had never dismissed him. This bit of information had Corvo a bit on edge, though.]
You sound like you know her well.
[Maybe Daud would like to explain.]
You sound like you know her well.
[Maybe Daud would like to explain.]
We've crossed paths.
[ It's an understatement, but he's not especially interested in cracking open the subject of Delilah or his life in Dunwall. It all risks exposing too much, leading back to conflicts he's not certain he wants to discuss with this man.
Still. Still, if Corvo's going to understand the danger Delilah poses, it might be necessary to share something more. Maybe in this case it's worth the risk of breaking open fraught recollections.
He doesn't like it. He scans the room, weighing his options. And finally, after several moments of silence— ]
When I was living in Dunwall.
She and her coven—
I know what she's capable of.
[ It's an understatement, but he's not especially interested in cracking open the subject of Delilah or his life in Dunwall. It all risks exposing too much, leading back to conflicts he's not certain he wants to discuss with this man.
Still. Still, if Corvo's going to understand the danger Delilah poses, it might be necessary to share something more. Maybe in this case it's worth the risk of breaking open fraught recollections.
He doesn't like it. He scans the room, weighing his options. And finally, after several moments of silence— ]
When I was living in Dunwall.
She and her coven—
I know what she's capable of.
[It's clear Daud knows a lot more than he's actually giving to him. Why Daud is not being forthcoming, Corvo isn't sure about. It's mildly suspicious, but Daud is also a man of many secrets.]
Half a story does me no good, Daud.
[Maybe Daud will feel inclined to tell Corvo more about his previous experience with such a dangerous woman.]
Half a story does me no good, Daud.
[Maybe Daud will feel inclined to tell Corvo more about his previous experience with such a dangerous woman.]
If Delilah's who I think she is, the uprising isn't the first time she's tried to take the throne.
It isn't an easy story.
[ Isn't a story he can tell without giving something of himself away. ]
And as you've said yourself, I'm not at my strongest.
[ Is tired, if truth be told, and suddenly wants very much to return to the room he'd come from. Only it matters that they knows. Only the longer he lets this sit silent, the greater that chance that Delilah will escape again. He can't... He can't keep this quiet. Has to try.
By the fucking Void. ]
After [ 'jessamine's death,' 'the empress fell' ] I killed your empress, I received word that someone was planning another upheaval. A quieter coup amid the chaos. It took time to work out the details, but...
She tried to take possession of [ 'the empress' 'your daughter' ] Emily. Something about her paintings, some magic she possessed. I don't know if it was connected to her Mark or to something else, but she came close to succeeding.
She ended up sealed within her own painting, the ritual turned awry. Should have been trapped there. Should never have been able to return.
I don't know what happened.
You can't trust her to stay sealed away.
It isn't an easy story.
[ Isn't a story he can tell without giving something of himself away. ]
And as you've said yourself, I'm not at my strongest.
[ Is tired, if truth be told, and suddenly wants very much to return to the room he'd come from. Only it matters that they knows. Only the longer he lets this sit silent, the greater that chance that Delilah will escape again. He can't... He can't keep this quiet. Has to try.
By the fucking Void. ]
After [ 'jessamine's death,' 'the empress fell' ] I killed your empress, I received word that someone was planning another upheaval. A quieter coup amid the chaos. It took time to work out the details, but...
She tried to take possession of [ 'the empress' 'your daughter' ] Emily. Something about her paintings, some magic she possessed. I don't know if it was connected to her Mark or to something else, but she came close to succeeding.
She ended up sealed within her own painting, the ritual turned awry. Should have been trapped there. Should never have been able to return.
I don't know what happened.
You can't trust her to stay sealed away.
[Daud is full of secrets, but not even Corvo can force them from him. Daud will have to volunteer any information he has. It pleases Corvo that the assassin chooses to talk, though he does get a narrowing of the eyes when he mentions Jessamine's death. Naturally, there's still some bitterness there, but his reaction ends with that look.
Corvo sighs and sits back in his chair, looking suddenly weary and far more his age.]
You know more about Delilah than most. All the more reason for you to stay.
Corvo sighs and sits back in his chair, looking suddenly weary and far more his age.]
You know more about Delilah than most. All the more reason for you to stay.
1) 'O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!'
'And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.’
— William Shakespeare, Hamlet
2) 'You were especially one in need of healing. Whose inner geography levels the mind.'
— Maureen Alsop, ‘*’
3) "and I try to harmonize with songs
the lonesome sparrow sings"
— Bob Dylan, ‘Gates of Eden’
4) "I saw the lighthouse
sever the wrist of the dark
and knew I had never touched
anything."
— Sara Eliza Johnson, 'The Lighthouse Keeper'
5) "These bones are constructed in the form of aching,
and these eyes carry the burden of light."
— Serena Chopra, 'Livid Season'
'And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.’
— William Shakespeare, Hamlet
2) 'You were especially one in need of healing. Whose inner geography levels the mind.'
— Maureen Alsop, ‘*’
3) "and I try to harmonize with songs
the lonesome sparrow sings"
— Bob Dylan, ‘Gates of Eden’
4) "I saw the lighthouse
sever the wrist of the dark
and knew I had never touched
anything."
— Sara Eliza Johnson, 'The Lighthouse Keeper'
5) "These bones are constructed in the form of aching,
and these eyes carry the burden of light."
— Serena Chopra, 'Livid Season'
Despite the contentedness that has filled Cassandra since Daud’s sudden arrival in Whitestone, and the happiness that has filled her... it doesn’t keep her from being haunted by her past. It doesn’t keep her from the nightmares. They’re her nigh constant companions, although their degrees of intensity varies. And sometimes she might not have any. Although that is a more recent development.
However, this is not one of those nights. Instead they are particularly intense. Vibrant. And she wakes violently, a scream dying on her lips as she frantically fumbles at her neck to staunch the blood that no longer flows, flinching away from a vampire that is no longer there. Gasping for breath, remains still for several long moments, waiting until she feels as though her legs will hold her weight once more.
And then she is scrambling out of bed, foregoing her typical layers for something quicker and in nothing more than her shirtsleeves, trousers, waistcoat and boots, she carefully winds a scarf around her throat and flees her chambers. She could seek out Daud, but she doesn’t think she can. She doesn’t want to bother him. Wake him. He’s still settling into life in Whitestone, she thinks. Getting used to having a place where he belongs. A place to call home. Getting used to an entirely new world to call his own.
So, instead she retreats to the rooftop.
It’s quiet, there. Secluded. (There are only two people who would be up there; she’s one of them, and the other is Daud.) She can be alone, until the trembling of her limbs seeps into the worn surface and out of her and her past claws at her chest a little bit less.
However, this is not one of those nights. Instead they are particularly intense. Vibrant. And she wakes violently, a scream dying on her lips as she frantically fumbles at her neck to staunch the blood that no longer flows, flinching away from a vampire that is no longer there. Gasping for breath, remains still for several long moments, waiting until she feels as though her legs will hold her weight once more.
And then she is scrambling out of bed, foregoing her typical layers for something quicker and in nothing more than her shirtsleeves, trousers, waistcoat and boots, she carefully winds a scarf around her throat and flees her chambers. She could seek out Daud, but she doesn’t think she can. She doesn’t want to bother him. Wake him. He’s still settling into life in Whitestone, she thinks. Getting used to having a place where he belongs. A place to call home. Getting used to an entirely new world to call his own.
So, instead she retreats to the rooftop.
It’s quiet, there. Secluded. (There are only two people who would be up there; she’s one of them, and the other is Daud.) She can be alone, until the trembling of her limbs seeps into the worn surface and out of her and her past claws at her chest a little bit less.
It shouldn’t be possible.
He’s been in this strange place for days now. Weeks? Maybe. Time ceased to cohere long ago; for the Outsider, days seem to pass both in a blink and at a snail’s crawl. However long it’s been, the Outsider’s used his time to linger at the outskirts of a market, to plant himself invisible in people’s homes. He’s used his time to gather information (it’s more difficult here than he’s used to; here, the information doesn’t simply come to him; here, he doesn’t have the Void’s eternal, invasive input to consult), trying to understand the world he’s come into, seeking signs of the man he’d followed here and why, why Daud had been set on finding this place.
How the Outsider had come here remains unclear. He knows it’d started with taking a renewed interest in Daud’s activities. His wayward Chosen had been fueled by some strange mission for the past several years, at last catching the Outsider’s attention. It’d been a seemingly impossible mission Daud was on: for some reason, he’d been bent on making his way to a place called Whitestone. A place across - what was it that researcher had said - worlds, dimensions, universes? Daud had been certain such a jump could be made, the the researcher, a woman of seemingly infinite patience, had agreed.
They’d spent years working on a contraption geared toward somehow bending the fabric of space, a venture worthy even of the Outsider’s continued attention. When everything was finally ready, the scientist had activated the device, and as the Outsider leaned in, close as he could from his place in the Void, there’d been a sense of suction, the sound of a snap, a broken string or something more vital. He’d closed his eyes against a rush of light, felt its needling burn around him, and when he opened his eyes, he’d been elsewhere. Felt the unfamiliar brush of breeze against his skin (he had skin? a body? was it possible?) and for the first time in centuries found himself beyond the Void.
Here in this new place something’s… Different. Wrong, perhaps, though the Outsider can’t say whether it’s really a bad change. He doesn’t feel entirely unlike the self he’s become used to, but his connection with the Void has altered. Instead of wrapping everywhere around him, forming the whole of his world, it’s woven through him, traced lightly around his form as if in currents of air. And while the Outsider can still transport himself across space, can still fade into and out from invisibility, there’s almost, almost effort to it. Like it takes something out of him to draw on the Void’s powers. Like somehow, the Void is no longer infinite, or his connection to it has weakened.
It’s almost as if the Void has been left thousands upon thousands of miles behind. Worlds behind. And somehow, somehow the Outsider has been drawn here in Daud’s wake.
In all of the Outsider’s attempts to garner information about Daud, one name has rose over and over again: Cassandra de Rolo, apparently a guardian of the city, some part of its ruling family. As rumor tells it, Daud’s been seen in her company; been staying with her in the Castle. (It’s a puzzle of its own; what does Daud have to do with this woman, and is it true she’s welcomed him as warmly as they say? The Outsider cannot envision it. He’ll have to see it for himself.)
Which is why a particular night finds the Outsider stepping calmly across the castle’s rooftops, disappearing and reappearing at will in order to cross from one to the next, moving with a quiet confidence. It’s why he pauses only briefly when he sees the woman’s figure atop the roof, doesn’t question who she is.
Head cocked, he takes a step forward, lithe figure still obscured by shadow, his face almost indiscernible in the dark. Is this the woman, then? Yes. Yes, she must be.
"I’ve heard about you, Cassandra."
He’s been in this strange place for days now. Weeks? Maybe. Time ceased to cohere long ago; for the Outsider, days seem to pass both in a blink and at a snail’s crawl. However long it’s been, the Outsider’s used his time to linger at the outskirts of a market, to plant himself invisible in people’s homes. He’s used his time to gather information (it’s more difficult here than he’s used to; here, the information doesn’t simply come to him; here, he doesn’t have the Void’s eternal, invasive input to consult), trying to understand the world he’s come into, seeking signs of the man he’d followed here and why, why Daud had been set on finding this place.
How the Outsider had come here remains unclear. He knows it’d started with taking a renewed interest in Daud’s activities. His wayward Chosen had been fueled by some strange mission for the past several years, at last catching the Outsider’s attention. It’d been a seemingly impossible mission Daud was on: for some reason, he’d been bent on making his way to a place called Whitestone. A place across - what was it that researcher had said - worlds, dimensions, universes? Daud had been certain such a jump could be made, the the researcher, a woman of seemingly infinite patience, had agreed.
They’d spent years working on a contraption geared toward somehow bending the fabric of space, a venture worthy even of the Outsider’s continued attention. When everything was finally ready, the scientist had activated the device, and as the Outsider leaned in, close as he could from his place in the Void, there’d been a sense of suction, the sound of a snap, a broken string or something more vital. He’d closed his eyes against a rush of light, felt its needling burn around him, and when he opened his eyes, he’d been elsewhere. Felt the unfamiliar brush of breeze against his skin (he had skin? a body? was it possible?) and for the first time in centuries found himself beyond the Void.
Here in this new place something’s… Different. Wrong, perhaps, though the Outsider can’t say whether it’s really a bad change. He doesn’t feel entirely unlike the self he’s become used to, but his connection with the Void has altered. Instead of wrapping everywhere around him, forming the whole of his world, it’s woven through him, traced lightly around his form as if in currents of air. And while the Outsider can still transport himself across space, can still fade into and out from invisibility, there’s almost, almost effort to it. Like it takes something out of him to draw on the Void’s powers. Like somehow, the Void is no longer infinite, or his connection to it has weakened.
It’s almost as if the Void has been left thousands upon thousands of miles behind. Worlds behind. And somehow, somehow the Outsider has been drawn here in Daud’s wake.
In all of the Outsider’s attempts to garner information about Daud, one name has rose over and over again: Cassandra de Rolo, apparently a guardian of the city, some part of its ruling family. As rumor tells it, Daud’s been seen in her company; been staying with her in the Castle. (It’s a puzzle of its own; what does Daud have to do with this woman, and is it true she’s welcomed him as warmly as they say? The Outsider cannot envision it. He’ll have to see it for himself.)
Which is why a particular night finds the Outsider stepping calmly across the castle’s rooftops, disappearing and reappearing at will in order to cross from one to the next, moving with a quiet confidence. It’s why he pauses only briefly when he sees the woman’s figure atop the roof, doesn’t question who she is.
Head cocked, he takes a step forward, lithe figure still obscured by shadow, his face almost indiscernible in the dark. Is this the woman, then? Yes. Yes, she must be.
"I’ve heard about you, Cassandra."
Edited 2018-11-28 05:58 (UTC)
There shouldn’t be anyone else on the roof. Certainly not anyone she’s unfamiliar with. And she does not recognize the voice that speaks to her, that claims to have heard about her. She very nearly reaches for a blade she doesn’t wear, very nearly calls on the bees that heed her summons. (Plants are more distant, less immediately there for her to call upon.)
But she doesn’t. She waits. Turning towards the shadow-cloaked stranger warily. Watchfully. Her nightmares set aside for the moment.
“Have you, now?” She asks curiously. “I’m not sure why that should surprise me. You are in Whitestone at present.” Because when in doubt, sass. It’s the de Rolo way. Even when confronted by strangers on rooftops where they shouldn’t be.
But she doesn’t. She waits. Turning towards the shadow-cloaked stranger warily. Watchfully. Her nightmares set aside for the moment.
“Have you, now?” She asks curiously. “I’m not sure why that should surprise me. You are in Whitestone at present.” Because when in doubt, sass. It’s the de Rolo way. Even when confronted by strangers on rooftops where they shouldn’t be.
What a curious reaction.
The girl may notice his figure shimmer - a trick of the shadows, or something more? - may notice that suddenly, suddenly this stranger doesn't seem to have his feet quite on the ground. It's an almost-instinctual trick, and though something about the sensation gnaws at the Outsider (it doesn't feel right, doesn't feel right, feels a little too much, yes, like a minor effort, something that's not quite a part of himself anymore), he doesn't linger in worry. After all, it must be nothing. Must be an aftereffect of crossing whatever span to reach this place. It's not worth a moment's further thought.
No, better to focus on the girl who's wary but who hides most of her surprise. Who chooses retort rather than fear or wonderment. Accustomed as he is to reading people to their depths - the Void opens each and every person in so many ways, draws their insides out for observation - it doesn't take much to notice her itch toward defense. Doesn't take much to notice she's been preoccupied with something, the tenor of her being shifting from some clouded realm of thought into the present.
(Still, for all the clarity with which he sees her, there's something... Smudged, almost. Something not quite open to him. And in the back of his mind, there's a ticking, a tension that suggests something's changed, even in the way he sees people. Maybe, slightly. Maybe.)
He doesn't move toward her. Not yet.
"Isn't that curious." Strange that he should be here. Strange that she should accept his presence with such seeming calm. "Yes, it's been a remarkable journey."
There's a moment's quiet, and then. "You're escaping something."
The girl may notice his figure shimmer - a trick of the shadows, or something more? - may notice that suddenly, suddenly this stranger doesn't seem to have his feet quite on the ground. It's an almost-instinctual trick, and though something about the sensation gnaws at the Outsider (it doesn't feel right, doesn't feel right, feels a little too much, yes, like a minor effort, something that's not quite a part of himself anymore), he doesn't linger in worry. After all, it must be nothing. Must be an aftereffect of crossing whatever span to reach this place. It's not worth a moment's further thought.
No, better to focus on the girl who's wary but who hides most of her surprise. Who chooses retort rather than fear or wonderment. Accustomed as he is to reading people to their depths - the Void opens each and every person in so many ways, draws their insides out for observation - it doesn't take much to notice her itch toward defense. Doesn't take much to notice she's been preoccupied with something, the tenor of her being shifting from some clouded realm of thought into the present.
(Still, for all the clarity with which he sees her, there's something... Smudged, almost. Something not quite open to him. And in the back of his mind, there's a ticking, a tension that suggests something's changed, even in the way he sees people. Maybe, slightly. Maybe.)
He doesn't move toward her. Not yet.
"Isn't that curious." Strange that he should be here. Strange that she should accept his presence with such seeming calm. "Yes, it's been a remarkable journey."
There's a moment's quiet, and then. "You're escaping something."
Edited 2018-11-28 17:53 (UTC)
[ 'Then you believe me.' There's a flash of something like eagerness in Daud's eyes, though he won't speak the words, won't let on that yes, there's a minor rush of relief at Corvo's speech. It's best that he hasn't found himself compelled to argue the point further. Best that he's not faced with parsing out the details, explaining just how Delilah had been banished, just who had been responsible. Best that Corvo understands - may understand - the situation's severity. ]
While I'm here, we'll speak of her.
[ Because he isn't giving up on the work that he's assigned himself. Tracking down the Outsider takes priority; Delilah's almost an afterthought. And as soon as Daud's well enough, he'll be back after the bastard of a god. (Won't he? Shouldn't he?) ]
Wherever she is, watch her carefully. Listen for whispers of her name, seek out those who followed her.
Don't let this wait, Corvo.
[ He shakes his head, sniffs. The deep weariness creeping over him is becoming more insistent; he needs to leave this room before he can't go on his own. With visible effort - a fact that he curses internally, grits his teeth against - he stands, ignoring the way the room wavers. ]
I'll leave you to your work.
While I'm here, we'll speak of her.
[ Because he isn't giving up on the work that he's assigned himself. Tracking down the Outsider takes priority; Delilah's almost an afterthought. And as soon as Daud's well enough, he'll be back after the bastard of a god. (Won't he? Shouldn't he?) ]
Wherever she is, watch her carefully. Listen for whispers of her name, seek out those who followed her.
Don't let this wait, Corvo.
[ He shakes his head, sniffs. The deep weariness creeping over him is becoming more insistent; he needs to leave this room before he can't go on his own. With visible effort - a fact that he curses internally, grits his teeth against - he stands, ignoring the way the room wavers. ]
I'll leave you to your work.
If Cassandra wasn’t already curious and suspicious and wary, the strange way his figure shimmers and how his feet don’t quite rest upon the roof’s surface would have sparked all of that within her. What is he? Who? How has he come to be in Whitestone? On her roof?
Head tilted curiously, she closes the distance between them. Warily, carefully. But she moves closer none-the-less. To better see his face. (Somewhere in the castle below them she suspects that Daud is face-palming and not quite sure why.) But he’s not a Briarwood. Not any of their allies. So she is quite possibly less afraid of him than she should be. Or simply more confident in her own skill. Perhaps both.
(Somewhere, Daud is no doubt face-palming harder.)
Although how easily he sees through to the truth of her is... unnerving, but she doesn’t let it show. Barely hesitates in her response, arching an eyebrow at him. “And what of you?” she counters. “Lurking on a rooftop in the shadows.”
Head tilted curiously, she closes the distance between them. Warily, carefully. But she moves closer none-the-less. To better see his face. (Somewhere in the castle below them she suspects that Daud is face-palming and not quite sure why.) But he’s not a Briarwood. Not any of their allies. So she is quite possibly less afraid of him than she should be. Or simply more confident in her own skill. Perhaps both.
(Somewhere, Daud is no doubt face-palming harder.)
Although how easily he sees through to the truth of her is... unnerving, but she doesn’t let it show. Barely hesitates in her response, arching an eyebrow at him. “And what of you?” she counters. “Lurking on a rooftop in the shadows.”
Edited 2018-11-29 04:31 (UTC)
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