Daud isn’t surprised to find that Oscar stands unflinching. The ‘sir’ surprises him, would elicit the hint of a smirk if Daud didn’t keep his expressions so regulated.
“You know who I am. Good.”
And he knows about the boy. Knows the blood he’s shed, the way the boy’s been murdering thieves, and the hatred he carries for them (despite the theft Oscar himself commits; Daud’s seen it, as have several of the Whalers). He knows there’s rage in the boy.
And what of that? If the boy’s a potential danger - and if he is, it’s no dire threat he poses - it’s better to have him close than let him run untethered. (Best of all to have him dead, Lurk would have pointed out. Has pointed out. She’s watching somewhere nearby, now. Out of sight and too careful to be caught, but he has no doubt she’s followed him here.)
Should the boy join the Whalers, he’ll be kept under watch by a rotating trio of assassins. It’s standard protocol for new recruits; what alters from one to the next is the number of guards and the number of weeks they remain on watch. There won’t be trouble from the boy. Daud’s sure of it. (Mostly sure of it, though he’s not about to admit that doubt to himself.)
Besides, what matters to Daud is the way the boy exists. The will toward survival that he demonstrates. The skills he so clearly possesses. There’s something in this boy that might be of use. Something to be done with his talents that doesn’t mean simply burning out in the streets or winding up gunned down by the City Watch.
“I've been watching you. I know what happened to you. How you were abandoned.
“There isn’t much left for you in Dunwall, is there?”
<3 <3 <3 <3
Daud isn’t surprised to find that Oscar stands unflinching. The ‘sir’ surprises him, would elicit the hint of a smirk if Daud didn’t keep his expressions so regulated.
“You know who I am. Good.”
And he knows about the boy. Knows the blood he’s shed, the way the boy’s been murdering thieves, and the hatred he carries for them (despite the theft Oscar himself commits; Daud’s seen it, as have several of the Whalers). He knows there’s rage in the boy.
And what of that? If the boy’s a potential danger - and if he is, it’s no dire threat he poses - it’s better to have him close than let him run untethered. (Best of all to have him dead, Lurk would have pointed out. Has pointed out. She’s watching somewhere nearby, now. Out of sight and too careful to be caught, but he has no doubt she’s followed him here.)
Should the boy join the Whalers, he’ll be kept under watch by a rotating trio of assassins. It’s standard protocol for new recruits; what alters from one to the next is the number of guards and the number of weeks they remain on watch. There won’t be trouble from the boy. Daud’s sure of it. (Mostly sure of it, though he’s not about to admit that doubt to himself.)
Besides, what matters to Daud is the way the boy exists. The will toward survival that he demonstrates. The skills he so clearly possesses. There’s something in this boy that might be of use. Something to be done with his talents that doesn’t mean simply burning out in the streets or winding up gunned down by the City Watch.
“I've been watching you. I know what happened to you. How you were abandoned.
“There isn’t much left for you in Dunwall, is there?”