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

[scrimshaws]

Isn't it customary to visit friends and family every so often? Or had you really thought you had gotten rid of me for good?

[His voice was a strange purr now that the weight of the Void wasn't buzzing behind it, through it. Politely, the Outsider closed the window that he had just crawled through, watching the way that Daud's jaw clenched, how he forced himself to relax. While the Outsider couldn't claim that he still had any of his insights left, couldn't see into the hearts and minds of anyone he so choose anymore, his thousands of years watching humanity hadn't faded from his memory. His observations of Daud in particular, hadn't deserted him either.

Could he push the retired assassin far enough to murder him when he once spared him? Or was the change that the Outsider had seen in Daud since the death of the Empress Jessamine Kaldwin, as traumatizing as the break of a bone, enough to keep his bloodlust at bay? The Outsider was curious to find out.

He crossed the room in a few short strides, stopping only when he was two steps away from Daud, mouth curling up slightly into a smile. It could have been fond or spiteful, it was hard to tell.]

Even without my Mark, we are bound together, you and I. Who else can say they know my true name?

[It was likely he could have gone on longer, and had before, but his stomach grumbled again, loudly.]

[excultro]

[ Little bastard doesn't know to keep his distance. Or doesn't care to give Daud space, doesn't want Daud to hold unpolluted space; that's the more likely truth. It explains some part of why he's here in the first place, claiming the closeness of 'friends and family' - as if Daud has much in the way of either, as if he'd admit closeness to anyone beyond Billie - claiming to share some bond based on their years together, based on what had happened in the Void.

It's bullshit, of course. Having spoken the Outsider's name doesn't tie him to the little shit. Shouldn't, or at least it isn't what Daud wants and isn't anything he'd anticipated (he tells himself; it's easiest to believe). What had happened is past, and shouldn't resonate into the present. Shouldn't leave him compelled to deal with the Outsider.

He doesn't owe the bastard anything.

In fact, it's the Outsider who owes him. Owes him for having spared the bastard's sad excuse for a life. Owes him for the curse he'd burned across Daud's hand. Owes him for the judgment, the goading. Owes him for the expectations, the promises of greatness. Owes him for all those years of silence.

And yet, Daud doesn't direct him to the door. And yet, he only watches the all-too-human Outsider steadily, wearily. ]

You came for food.

[ Just fucking say it, you little shit. For once in your centuries-long life, would it hurt to speak directly? ]

[scrimshaws]

[There used to be a time in their long standing relationship when the Outsider had mystery, where Daud looked at him with reverence and a little fear. When the Outsider had known all of Daud's secrets and most intimate thoughts and kept them to himself. He would chalk up this lack of manners to the fact that he was no longer a God, privy to timeless knowledge and abilities beyond mortal understanding. But Daud's regard for him had eroded far longer than that, and if anything, he suspected that the retired assassin was kinder now that it would be easier to dispose of him. And perhaps because Billie told him to be.

The Outsider sized Daud up quietly for a few moments, his eyes probably not as disconcerting now that they weren't obsidian black, back still ramrod straight, hands clasped behind his back.]

Disappointed that this wasn't just a social call? I know you don't get many visitors, these days.

[He asked slyly after a moment, as if in fact, his stomach hadn't just been growling obnoxiously.

Also known as why be straight forward when he can be a little shit? But Daud should be used to it by now.]

[excultro]

[ Daud was used to it; that didn't mean he liked or wanted to tolerate it.

'Daud, he's alone in the world,' Billie had said. 'This is all new for him. Just... If he comes to you, don't turn him away. Please.' And Daud had agreed. For Billie's sake (and at the urging of his own long-grown guilt), he had agreed, and had housed the little shit the last time the Outsider came around. Would do the same this time, because Billie's trust meant something to him. Because they hadn't freed the bastard just to let him wander starving to his death. ]

No.

I know what to expect from you.

And right now I have one more visitor than I'd like.

[ It was true he preferred to keep his own company. There were few enough people in the world he trusted, and few enough whose opinion meant much to him. Then, too, Daud had never been averse to solitude, and age had only increased his appreciation for time spent away from others. (It was easier not to dwell on certain aspects of the past that way. Easier not to find himself confronted with remnants of the man he was.) ]

[scrimshaws]

[Before, he had been able to see into the desires and futures of others, had talked about them at length to those who had a vested interest, but holding conversations was a new exercise. It meant listening to everything that was said an unsaid, in paying attention to the purely physical. It was interesting to see the war of emotions that were splayed across Daud's face, whether because his masks had long worn away, or because he saw no point in hiding his annoyance that the Outsider was here.

He had tried to ask Billie Lurk, not too long after he had been freed, why she had done it, but he had never gotten a straight answer out of her. Perhaps it was a taste of his own medicine, or maybe both of these assassins who were so used to killing, didn't know the reason to why they had spared his life.

Nonplussed, the Outsider turned on his heel instead and started towards the cabinets, digging through the food rations and arranging them carelessly into piles of what he would eat and what he wouldn't.]

And what expectations are those, Daud? I'm interested to know what sort of opinions you have of me now that you've remade me.

[He paused, frowning at a can of jellied hagfish, trying to decide whether he wanted to eat this or if he should put it into the trash where it belonged. Corvo and his current Empress Kaldwin had better food, perhaps he should have stayed there longer.]

[excultro]

I didn't—

[ 'Remake you,' only there was an argument to be made that he did precisely that. Spoke the bastard's name and so ushered him into the world anew. There was responsibility behind what he'd done. All that talk about consequences, the lessons he'd half-learned so long ago, swam back into his head and left him thinking that this was his own fault, after all. He'd set out to change things. And hadn't he done just that?

Maybe he should have killed the bastard. Withstood Billie's arguments and persuaded her to drive the twin-bladed knife through the Outsider's long-chilled heart.

And there the little shit goes, making himself at home and and sifting through Daud's store of carefully organized food. Or, okay, not carefully organized. More like haphazardly stacked or strewn on shelves. Still, he knows where everything is. Where everything was, until the Outsider got his hands on it. ]

I expect you're the same as you ever were. Disappearing when it suits you. Stopping in when you want food or entertainment. A laugh at the old man who broke his life into pieces for you.

[ His jaw's clenching again (what he said is true and isn't true at all, and he knows it), and he refocuses his attention, scans the Outsider's tidy piles of tins. ]

The food isn't to your liking.

[ There might be a smirk in his voice. Between years holed up in ruined buildings as an assassin and years of ceaseless travel in exile, Daud had learned to live off whatever rations he could scrape together. He's beginning to gather that the Outsider's developed more particular tastes. Well. Maybe the little bastard'll learn there's nothing for him here. Leave Daud in glorious silence.

(Daud isn't sure he'd want that, really. Isn't sure he'd be glad to see the Outsider go for good.) ]

[scrimshaws]

[What had drawn the Outsider to Daud, all those years ago, was the fascinating contradictions he housed within himself. He was a murderer, and yet he gathered others around him to protect and spare them. He was a man who had built a fearsome reputation for himself, and yet had never used his fame to amass comfort or wealth for himself. He had slit the throat of countless men for coin, but he mourned what had happened to the Empress.

He had spared the Outsider, but now he regretted. Fascinating.

But he could do without all the blame that was laid at his feet. ( He wasn't going to disagree with the rest. )]

Have I ever laughed at you, Daud?

[Mocked him plenty, disapproved of some of his choices, or found himself growing bored with him, perhaps. But laughter was a new thing, something he still didn't understand. It was a step above smiling, which he had never felt like doing before, but physical bodies were responsive in ways that the Outsider hadn't realized. ]

How long will it take you to realize it was never for me you did all of those things for?

[It was mostly to kill the smirk, and pointedly, he opened up the can of hagfish. And because he could, he took a seat on the counter among the throne of cans, picking at the jelly with his fingers and trying not to grimace.]

I'll get better food tomorrow. Do you have any requests?

[Look at him being generous despite your terrible hospitality, Daud.]