[’There are eight others like you in the world,’ the Outsider had said once, days ago, months ago, thousands of years ago. But as he laid in the weak sunlight of Karnaca, the smell of sea and salt and thousands of people and their refuse teeming around him, he had to reevaluate that assessment. There had only been a select few who had heard his voice, even fewer who had bore his Mark, but there had only been one who had been roused by Billie Lurk’s impassioned plea in the middle of his prison in the Void to let him live, who had stood, more forgotten memory than person, and whispered his own name into his ear to free him
Even now, after all of his time spent watching humanity and the unfathomable choices they made, the Outsider found that he could still be surprised not just by the cruelty that could be found in the depths of hearts, but the kindness and compassion.
Stepping into the sunlight that day had the same effect on him, sheering into his eyes, his bones, his very soul. Even now, months after he’d been reborn yet again ( and wasn’t that strange, to measure things by hours and days instead of by decades and centuries? ), he was still getting used to everything. The noise. The sun. The people.
Most distressing was that instead of being a slave to the Void ( which still calls to him in his sleep, black waves beating against the cliffs of his mind ), instead now he was other forces that call him. Sleep, eating, and a myriad of other functions he had never had to dwell upon. Needs that needed coin to keep up with, so he’d made his way to Corvo and the Empress. Knowledge in exchange for their patronage, or perhaps, their patronage for his silence. Either way, the journey had taken longer than a brief jaunt through dreams, and it had left him tired, in need of a safe haven and someone who he could trust to watch his body while he dreamt.
Finding Daud was easy if one knew where to look, and even with only the faintest of faint traces of his magic still clinging to him, the Outsider could find him blindfolded and from a different continent. In his old age, Daud had settled in, become less active. He had entered into the stage where men regretted their youth and while some would have died nestled in those regrets, Daud was still actively interesting.
Whether it was because of Billie Lurk’s interference or Daud’s own conscience catching up with him, he fed him and allowed him to stay when he turned up, even if he complained the whole time. Once the complaints of his stomach have grown too loud to ignore, he made his way down the side of the building, careful and light, with a small measure of clumsiness. He’s still not used to having to physically move to go from place to place, instead used to just willing it and being there, as easy as a fish through water.]
Daud.
[The greeting was mild as he opened up the window to slide into Daud’s newest base of operations, exits a necessity now that blinking out of trouble was no longer a possibility.]
It’s been too long. How have you been these past few months I’ve been gone?
[’Still choking on regret and blaming others for your choices?’ Was just on the tip of his tongue, but the question is there in the way he canted his head, but he was learning now to keep some of his thoughts to himself.]
doto!daud + human!outsider
Even now, after all of his time spent watching humanity and the unfathomable choices they made, the Outsider found that he could still be surprised not just by the cruelty that could be found in the depths of hearts, but the kindness and compassion.
Stepping into the sunlight that day had the same effect on him, sheering into his eyes, his bones, his very soul. Even now, months after he’d been reborn yet again ( and wasn’t that strange, to measure things by hours and days instead of by decades and centuries? ), he was still getting used to everything. The noise. The sun. The people.
Most distressing was that instead of being a slave to the Void ( which still calls to him in his sleep, black waves beating against the cliffs of his mind ), instead now he was other forces that call him. Sleep, eating, and a myriad of other functions he had never had to dwell upon. Needs that needed coin to keep up with, so he’d made his way to Corvo and the Empress. Knowledge in exchange for their patronage, or perhaps, their patronage for his silence. Either way, the journey had taken longer than a brief jaunt through dreams, and it had left him tired, in need of a safe haven and someone who he could trust to watch his body while he dreamt.
Finding Daud was easy if one knew where to look, and even with only the faintest of faint traces of his magic still clinging to him, the Outsider could find him blindfolded and from a different continent. In his old age, Daud had settled in, become less active. He had entered into the stage where men regretted their youth and while some would have died nestled in those regrets, Daud was still actively interesting.
Whether it was because of Billie Lurk’s interference or Daud’s own conscience catching up with him, he fed him and allowed him to stay when he turned up, even if he complained the whole time. Once the complaints of his stomach have grown too loud to ignore, he made his way down the side of the building, careful and light, with a small measure of clumsiness. He’s still not used to having to physically move to go from place to place, instead used to just willing it and being there, as easy as a fish through water.]
Daud.
[The greeting was mild as he opened up the window to slide into Daud’s newest base of operations, exits a necessity now that blinking out of trouble was no longer a possibility.]
It’s been too long. How have you been these past few months I’ve been gone?
[’Still choking on regret and blaming others for your choices?’ Was just on the tip of his tongue, but the question is there in the way he canted his head, but he was learning now to keep some of his thoughts to himself.]