dishonored meme

[wolfofdunwall]

***

a dishonored meme

'ever since the empress died, it's been getting darker in dunwall. but it's that moment just before the light goes that matters most of all.'

the isles are caught amid fractious days, and you find yourself living among them. perhaps - probably - you’ve lived here all your life. perhaps you’ve been brought here by some magical means. whatever the case, you’ve made or will make a life among the isles.

if you were born in or around the isles, what’s your lot in life? are you nobility? a person of great means? a member of the city watch? a shipmate? an inventor? perhaps a civilian just trying to make your way through the rat plague. perhaps a thief, a gang member, an assassin. perhaps a witch or a devotee of the outsider, or perhaps an overseer, scourge of the occult.

when you comment, add a little bit about who your character is in the dishonored world. what your occupation is (if you have one), what you think about recent events, what you tend to do with your days. (if you want to give multiple options re: who they are, feel free!)

you might also want to offer some prompts: scenario ideas, picture prompts, quotes, words, whatever you like.

Comments

[wolfofdunwall]

It's true that things were more stable before Billie's departure. More stable still before Jessamine's death and Daud's subsequent strangeness. For years, no Whaler would have dared to question Daud's authority, or even to stir much trouble among the lower ranks. His assassins had trusted him implicitly (many - or is it several? - still do, or want to), and while Daud had always known that some day his rule would end, that day had seemed far distant. Certainly, none among the assassins would have thought to try their strength against his, not when they knew what he could do, what powers he held.

Daud doubts that this boy is among the ones who've been chorusing in mutinous whispers. Oscar's deadly when pitted against outsiders, but among his fellow Whalers, he seems to lack malice. Seems more than others to take them as brethren. (Which makes a kind of sense, perhaps. The boy was the youngest recruit Daud's ever accepted, brought in partly due to Thomas's unceasing requests. Has known the Whalers for over half his life.) And if Oscar's like Billie in his preference for distance, the boy's like Thomas in his unerring loyalty, the formalities that spring from apparent earnestness.

He turns his head toward Oscar, quickly looks him over. The boy makes a lonely figure in the moonlight, though that's a useless thought, means little (lately, he's been plagued by useless thoughts, idle observations and sentiments that serve as distractions, nothing more). If Daud were in a less abstracted mood, he might have raised an eyebrow at the boy's question. As it is, he only turns his gaze back to the ruins around.

"They don't need to know of it.

"It's quiet."

[riveres]

Oscar would never betray the man that gave him a home, a place to be, a family to have. If the mutiny started tomorrow, Oscar would be one of the first to quell the rebellion as soon as it starts. (It would involve killing fellow Whalers he's known since he was a child, but his loyalty to the whalers as a group is far greater than any individual ties. He's sure Thomas would say the same.) He's glad Daud will keep this private place of his own private, it means he can still have a few moments to himself even with all the whispers and doubt going about the gang. "Precisely. It's why I come up here. Sometimes... I need time to myself to think. Do you need me? Has anything gone wrong Master?" After all, it does seem a little suspicious that he would come here.

[wolfofdunwall]

Daud mostly trusts to Oscar's loyalty, though he would hardly blame the boy for turning if the time came. Eventually all leadership is overthrown, and the stronger rise up to take control. It's a fact Daud's accepted for years, though now that the one he'd expected to succeed - expected she'd succeed years from now, when his own strength would be waning - is in exile, he's not sure how to feel about any of this.

And those words. 'Has anything gone wrong.' A question Daud can hardly begin to answer for himself, certainly can't answer in front of any of his assassins. The answer would be too ranging, deeper than he cares to think. So he pulls out a cigarette, lighting it in a practiced motion. Takes a draw.

"No. I would have summoned you if I did."

Really, he doesn't need to flee so far to find silence anymore. Over the past six months, he'd become accustomed to having Billie on his tail, trailing him so keen it could take half an hour or more to lose her. Now that she's gone, there's little risk in keeping closer to base. The other Whalers watch, yes, but theirs is a more distant observation, better satisfied hanging back (then, too, Billie was perhaps the only one he'd have accepted such tailing from).

"We can all use a little quiet."