dumbshow | whale post

[Ha ha, oh Vera. The Outsider makes a face - not quite a smirk, but a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He'd make a snide remark about how she'd love to know she still has admirers, but Corvo probably wouldn't appreciate the extra snide part about how it's a shame someone murdered her.

Anyway.]

How is it that the Abbey can stomach two of mine having a hand in their business? Or is this "we" some trusted underlings of the Empress, and not Her Majesty and Her Majesty's heathen father?

[did you fucking miss him

The moment of palpable discomfort seems to have passed for the moment, at least; he puts his hands behind his back and turns from Corvo to walk past him, toward the ledge's edge where he peers down into the water. It truly is quieter here than Dunwall, bloodflies aside— some bugs dispatched by fire are much less of a menace than plague rats, considering they congregate, but honestly he doesn't care about that anyway. It's quiet here, but not in the way the Void is quiet. People sing.

A tour, is it? He straightens up, glancing at Corvo over his shoulder.]

What is it that you want to show me?

You would be surprised how persuasive Emily can be with the Overseers, as opposed to my approach. [His approach was glaring them down until they finally cracked. No wonder it didn't do much. He was still bitter about the feeling those music boxes brought...

He turns to look back out at the sky, having gone from a setting pink to a deep, dark blue. The ocean is reflecting the lanterns off the patios, and the stars are starting to emerge from the sky. As it turns out, Emily had a lot of tutoring to do. Was he glad it gave them time to talk?]

Things you probably don't pay attention to, in the grand scheme of things. [He's totally making this up as he goes along, but,] There aren't many details about Dunwall that are worth looking for, besides...

[The way Samuel's smile warmed up the Hound Pits Pub, and how they never seemed to run out of whiskey. Callista and Emily's teachings in the booths, and how he'd always wind up getting scolded for distracting the Empress. Cecelia coming out of her shell in the company of real friends. Piero smelling out smoke and exploded whale oil.

They were all gone now. There was no "besides."]

... Things you'll blink and miss.

[What a junkie... Tell the Outsider how good his magic feels, he'll love that. In the meantime he looks out over the water again, contemplative. Corvo has a point - the Outsider watches and the wheels turn, but he doesn't pay that much attention to the individuals (present company excluded). There have been just as many periods in history where none have been Marked as there have been where hundreds have at a time— it varies. There are so few, these days...

He can't know what Corvo is thinking of, of course. He can hazard a guess, and his guesses are correct the way one could guess which way the sun is going to set - pointlessly - but he won't actually touch the Void to Corvo's mind. The things it would do...

So, simply:] Then show me. It appears I've come into possession of some free time, but it won't last for very long.

[Corvo... didn't actually expect him to agree. The time they'd spent was already the length three or four of their meetings in Dunwall. He looks back at him, scrutinizing, trying to figure out any ulterior motive he might have.

He might as well follow through before he's dragged back into politics. He preferred the night sky, anyhow.

His Mark glows brightly before he disappears to a platform above without a word. He's on his way down the path to the carriage station with little explanation, to both the Outsider and the staring guards. Pointless for one, necessary for another lest he want to be fried.] Keep up.

[Some poor guy wondered who he was talking to.]

[Oh— oh wow, there he goes. The Outsider doesn't lose track of him at all - funny, to think that he might - but rather his gaze follows Corvo's "path" up to the platform and beyond without comment.

Huh. Keep up, he says. Well.

Maybe at some other point during this tour he can be convinced to move around like a normal person and not a being capable of stepping between realities, but for now, he shifts minutely and quite suddenly melds back into the real world next to Corvo, peering at the waiting carriage.] No wonder you were so tight-lipped during the bad old days.

[Maybe if he keeps saying this, one of you killjoys will think he's clever.]

[Corvo probably should have jumped at that, but they both know he's already used to it by now. He's even waiting on him to appear. This is weird. He doesn't want to think about it.

He is, however, going to hold the door open for the Outsider like a gentlemen. The guards are staring. He's pretending they aren't.] You keep calling them the bad old days, like they really got any better.

[You're not clever my dude.] It was hard to come up with anything to say, when you saw what I saw. Or had a mouth full of things I don't want to remember.

[The guards can stare as long as they want, but they'll start to feel weirdly uncomfortable about it pretty soon. The Outsider isn't really trying, but there's no denying that being in his presence is too much even for some of his Marked, so even the layman who can't see him won't want to look at the empty space Corvo is speaking to for much longer.

You're welcome, Corvo.] After your family has dragged the Empire up out of the depths twice, you're still a pessimist? Hm.

[Hm. That's probably fair, but still: hm. He gets into the carriage anyway, sitting down and swiveling his gaze back to Corvo immediately. He sure is staring a lot, but this time he raises an eyebrow to go with it.]

Although you did nearly chew away the Rat Plague, all on your own. You have to give yourself some credit for that iron stomach.

[Corvo simply stares back at him in silence, considering how nice it would be to just shut the door and send him off to the city minus one Royal Protector. It wouldn't work, though, he knows this. He steps into the carriage with a sigh.] That was one time.

[He could have sat across from him for the sake of personal space, and yet he takes his seat next to the man. The lever to start the carriage was just as easily accessible on both sides, but he doesn't pay any mind when he pulls it.] At least it's not fermented red shark.

... When was the last time you ate anything, anyway?

One time? [He is always (or often) watching, Corvo. Maybe 15 years has made Corvo forget how many rats he ate!!

Corvo being right next to him means the Outsider has less room to fidget, though, which leaves him no choice but to watch Corvo do stuff. Like pull the lever. Fascinating.]

Long ago. [He'll spare the sad past speech, and how he must have been close to starving when he was sacrificed on a bed of stone, because they're having such a nice time out. But rest assured: it was something like that. He turns slightly on the seat, so he can lean his elbow on the side of the carriage.] But I know about the factories where they package red shark. I'll have to decline.

[Don't try feeding him weird things...]

... Four times. [Corvo muttered under his breath and just gave him a look. Like bring it up again. See what happens.

He couldn't do anything to him, but. Whatever.]

Perhaps pear soda. [He leans back, turning to face the Outsider. He knew he had been staring this entire time, so it was time to return the favor.] I don't think I trust you with whiskey and cigars tonight. Or... ever.

[Good thing to talk about when he's distracted about how he looks under the rising moon. At this rate, he's past wondering why he's noticing these things.] I take it you won't be appearing to anyone.

[Four times!! The Outsider is delighted, and this time there's actually a real smirk there, but only for a split second. Blink and you'll miss it, indeed.

He waves off whiskey and cigars with his free hand, and his good behavior of actually sitting still lasts barely a minute longer. Very soon, he puts his feet up. On the other carriage seat. There is a decent amount of slouching involved to comfortably accomplish this.

This is the man who could bring a nation to its needs with a look, if he so desired. This is him, slouching in a carriage.]

So suddenly? Far be it from me to spoil the evening, dear Corvo. And certainly not while Her Majesty is trying to make nice with our fine friends at the Abbey. No, if I am going to appear to anyone, it will be for a reason.

[His hands, folded on his stomach for how he's nearly entirely laid down in this carriage, fiddle with a button on his jacket. Maybe he could try a pear soda... It's going to be weird, but maybe.]

[Corvo's just going to watch this disaster of a seating arrangement unfold with his own hands rested in his lap. Honestly, he would speak up if he weren't preoccupied thinking about that smirk. Who allowed him to do that?]

I... don't think... [He starts, leaning away to just look at him trying to take up his side of the carriage. He bit his lip, fighting off a laugh.] I don't think every citizen we pass by is going to recognize you. The half-starved, poorly cut look is unfortunately common.

[What about the artist behind the painting he and Emily absolutely kept? It's probably hanging in the safe room. He's going to ignore it. They were approaching the next station, anyway.]

[Well, his next dismissive gesture uses both hands, so there. He's literally a god to some of these people, or a bogeyman, or a mysterious creature of legend or whatever else— but each of the stories remember his black, black eyes.

Currently staring at his own feet, and after a moment of that, up at the sky from where he's remaining slouched.]

Ah, but for once, the Outsider will truly walk among them. [There's less crazed graffiti about him in Karnaca, compared to Dunwall, but the shrines still hum for how they're close, so he's within the bounds of making this joke.]

We're here. [He says, seconds before the carriage actually pulls into the station. He has to be like this, from down here. He'll get up and cooperate in a moment, it's fine.]

[His bounds for the joke was probably debatable to Corvo, but he won't say it. It was astonishing that he'd made so many in the past hour. He'll take the time before they arrive to laugh quietly to himself, given how uncomfortable getting up was probably going to be.

Except when he stands as the carriage stops, he offers his hand without thinking. The Outsider could stand up on his own, or simply appear outside the carriage, he remembered. He blanched, but it was too late to pull back now.

It was just a habit. That was all.

Except it was a habit he'd had with Jessamine.]

[The Outsider is bothering to sit up in the first place, rather than skip to just being outside the carriage already, and so he pauses when Corvo holds out his hand. Once again he isn't expecting that hand to be offered to him for any reason, and now it's to help him out of the carriage?

His eyebrows raise again in mild surprise. Hmm.]

Old habits die hard, Corvo? [He could just as well be talking about acting as Lord Protector, here, so please don't cross the wires too much. Less haltingly than before he moves to take Corvo's hand, but at the last moment slides his fingers past the Mark on Corvo's skin to take hold of his wrist instead.

In one fluid motion he pulls himself up to standing, and in the small standing space in the carriage, it's purely coincidence that he winds up as close to Corvo as he is now. Coincidence. There are those black eyes again.]

Now then, I came all this way, so I hope there's something interesting to see.

[Corvo already didn't know what to do with his own offer, so what follows is even more perplexing. The Outsider actually took his hand. He was much closer than Corvo had anticipated. He hadn't meant to meet those eyes. But he had, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

His unmarked hand misses the carriage the door in his lack of focus, but thankfully he grasps it on his second try. No, he wasn't anxious, he was just-- he was just. Off guard. Right. Explains the flush.

He hadn't let go of his hand when he stepped out of the carriage, he realized. How embarrassing.] I'm-- I'm already interesting enough to you to make up for it. You wouldn't be here otherwise.

[None of Corvo's momentary lack of focus escapes the Outsider's notice... unfortunately. But of course, the great leviathan is accustomed to making people uneasy, so he simply smirks again instead of staring like he doesn't understand what's going on.

The color rising in Corvo's face is new, though. Interesting indeed.]

You've uncovered my little secret. [not that his thing about Corvo was ever a secret, but. Step back so he can get out of this carriage, meanwhile.] It's been so very long, but I think I can afford to trust your judgment again.

[So, show him around.]

You shouldn't. [Corvo smirked in return, but it didn't last as he contemplated why he didn't want to let go. He released him with reluctance before stepping back, waiting for the Outsider to step off before he started down into the Palace District.

In contrast to Emily's trip through the city, the boulevard was cleaner, and peaceful. The windmills still ran high above, but it was to keep power to the street lights rather than electrocute or shoot anyone. A grand old tree loomed past the buildings, leaves beginning to turn with the change in season. In place of guards were citizens, smoking cigars and rolling dice.

The open shop windows made the old man's eyes light up. He'd forgotten they were done renovating.] It looks like business is better. About that pear soda...

[There's a feeling to walking through the district streets that's a bit like stepping down into a fishbowl, to the Outsider. He is a distant, watchful figure, and now to say he's taking a stroll through the Palace District for no reason other than he feels like it, and Corvo invited him— how novel! He walks with his hands behind his back, looking around and taking in the city from down here in its belly, rather than from afar.

It does look better than it had a year ago. He'll give Emily credit for that; she certainly came into her own as Empress during that trip. His mind is wandering, connecting point to point - Emily, the city, the bloodflies, the witches, Delilah - and so he has to catch himself and return to the moment, when Corvo speaks again.]

I've never— well, you already know. Color me curious what this city has to offer. [just buy him a drink...]

Nothing too impressive, I'm sure. [Corvo looks away as he regains the Outsider's attention, for he might hae been watching that far off look with rapt attention. Or thinking about his hands, still. Likely the latter.

His own are deft, though, as they pass by a particularly chatty group of nobles. The man was foolish, keeping his back turned to the street with his coin purse hanging from his belt. He continues going on in a tipsy rant about the Howlers even as the weight was lifted off him.

Corvo couldn't help but look a little smug. It worked everytime. He poured the coins into his hand and dropped the pouch on the street, running his fingers over the Empresses' faces on them.] We can start with taste, then sound... [Then touch? Maybe.

Off he goes, making a beeline for a stand with open crates of soda. He slides the money across the counter and turns back round with not one, but two. With the way he's holding out the second, one is for the unseen companion.]

[The Outsider watches, of course, another ghost of a smirk crossing his face when Corvo lifts a man's purse cleanly off his belt and moves on. Old habits, indeed... He finds he likes the way Corvo's eyes lit up to see this street of shops, and the smug look on his face now is just as interesting.

Following Corvo past the milling civilians is easy; unseen, still, the Outsider has much the same effect on the small crowd near the food carts as he did on the guards at the carriage station. People who look in his direction look away after like their gazes have been trained to slide off the area he occupies. Some of them with more arcane inclinations might actually see him, but they're just as compelled to look away uncertain of seeing anything at all.

One small girl clutching her mother's skirts looks toward him longest of all, while Corvo buys the sodas. The Outsider shakes his head minutely at her and she moves away just as Corvo turns back to him. Among so many people, detached as he is from them, he still feels... somewhat better. He takes the bottle, holding it up to gently swish its contents and watch the liquid bubble as he does.

Neat.] I said it was long ago that I last had a full meal, not that it was never. I've tasted before, Corvo.

[Food, and everything! And blood, and iron, and he takes a sip of the soda only to blink at it a few times with more interest. It's good??]

You might have before, but not like this. They didn't even have this when I was a kid. My... [He trails off, thoughts of his mother and sister too difficult to elaborate on. And this was supposed to be a light-hearted ~~date~~ outing.

He watches the Outsider sip, his lips curving up into a smile as he brings his own bottle to his lips. There was just something so satisfying about his surprise. And, well, he knew he'd be right all along.] You like it.

Much about the Empire was different during your childhood. [He could cite his sources, but just rest assured that at least he wasn't aware of Corvo enough to have an eye on him then. He isn't that strange. Usually. He holds the bottle up, letting the light catch on it from a nearby lamppost.]

For example, this drink— and several of these shopkeepers, and the secret shop one finds by following their hands all did not exist back then.

[do u want to hear the history of black market shops in Karnaca]

That aside, I do like it. Now then, sound was next on your agenda...

You would be surprised at what they had in place of those shops. [Wait, no he wouldn't. He knew already. Why was he saying all of these stupid things today.

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. With their hands holding their bottles, it left one free. If he could...

He took it without looking at him, walking ahead down the street. His threads his fingers through the Outsider's.] They used to perform somewhere around here...

[The comment back - of course he knew already - is nearly on the Outsider's tongue, his bottle still held slightly aloft, when Corvo touches his hand again. No, not touches, he's holding it. Corvo Attano just made an inane comment, got embarrassed, and took hold of his hand in the space between saying what he did and getting made fun of for it.

Needless to say, the Outsider is once again surprised into silence. He follows Corvo's lead, attention locked on their hands and even more so when Corvo threads their fingers together. He isn't sure what to do about this, all of a sudden— it's one thing to be interested, to appear before Corvo like he has, to do all the things the Outsider has done, and another entirely to hold his hand.

Corvo's search for the performers gives the Outsider a moment to sip at his soda again and consider his options. He could always recoil, retreat to a position of calculated distance and indifference... but Corvo's hand in his is warm in a way he hasn't felt in 4,000 years— perhaps longer. The discomfort of the Void seems to quiet a bit, although he knows it hasn't really.

So. A moment longer, and then he grips Corvo's hand back, rather than let it hang there limply. Show him the performers, yes, he'll mercifully shut up until then...]

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