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

[befreiung]

[ The void is like an ocean.

He thinks he hears something. The roll of music that subsumes beyond the air, a ripple in the fabric of space itself from unseen whales singing. There is no light, no warmth - yet the chill is comforting, as if it had always been there. Always, laying latent in the dreams that followed his sleeping mind, the shadow of a graceful presence. Who is he? Why is he here? None of that really matters within the dreams of a deep sea. Time is without end. Until....

Lancets of light filter in from all directions, as if the ocean were a sphere instead of an endless plain. They prick and pierce at the darkness, a hush falling over the song. Bubbles of air intrude into the serenity of the void, until....

... until consciousness breaches as if a whale from water, and he is greeted with the momentary vision of a sun burning within a deep, empty darkness.

The youth is unclothed from the waist up, and previously invisible runes flicker into green across his body. Nothing else happens, though. No extradimensional intrusion, only the slight shift of the youth's body against cold stone as the last vestiges of a ritual trance is purged from his body.

What is this.

A voice. Cold, but unlike the waters of the void; a jolt of ice that passes down his spine. The youth opens his eyes - green, the same hue as the music that is painted across his skin.

He struggles to find his voice - a human voice, not the voice of the song in his dreams. ]

What is this....?

[ Right back at you, buddy. ]