dumbshow | whale post

[Yep, that was definitely about the Outsider. The more he listens, the more he makes a face.]

There's only one way they'd know that story.

[Ahaha... ha. On second thought, he could have waited for Corvo to figured it out himself, but where would the fun be in that? True to form, he's still making that half-smirking face when Corvo realizes, and then when he so brazenly accuses the Outsider of - what? Gossip?

About himself? Why would he do something like that??]

Musicians are always looking for new material. [ha... Corvo should really be congratulating himself on being the only person who can accuse him of gossip and get away with it, but never mind that for now.] I must have been feeling sentimental.

[Corvo probably would be congratulating himself if the subject weren't so unfortunate. Knowing he was just a boy, a boy with nothing...

He squeezed the Outsider's hand in a small, perhaps poor attempt at comfort. What was he supposed to say about this? It was so long ago, and it wasn't as if apologizing for it would really help anything.] ... I'm sorry.

[It was all he had, though. It was his turn to have the undivided attention, staring at the Outsider's profile with a concerned frown.] But no one's going to lay a hand on you like that again.

[He sounded so sure, so genuine, though it wasn't like he really knew what the future held. Wishful thinking.]

[It was a long, long time ago, on the one hand. But on the other, that island in the Void still exists, and it's very hard to forget one's own origin story.

Ultimately, it was too long ago to haunt the Outsider now. The fallout does, certainly, as being one with the Void is unpleasant at best, but being one with the Void also gives him bigger things to worry about than how he got there. Most of the time.

Corvo is trying to comfort him. He blinks, looking up again from the musicians and over at Corvo with an unreadable expression. He can't remember the last time someone told him he would be alright— his mother, was it, 4,000 years ago? Before she died, before she left him so impossibly alone?]

I showed the Empress the place where they made me. It's there, in the furthest reaches of the Void, in the darkest corner. Did she tell you that Delilah found it? I inspired her.

[He's bitter. Why did he ever give that girl a Mark?? He'll let that sink in before he shrugs and looks down at the music again.] It was tiresome, hearing how many people believed me to be a whale with legs crawled up from the sea to judge mankind.

I remember. It was dark, cold, and surrounded by your followers. Stone, how they'll stay. [He didn't spend much time imagining what she'd described. It disturbed him, knowing the Outsider was once hurt. That he once felt pain.

He wouldn't ignore it, though, as uncomfortable as it made him. He was just as bitter about Delilah, though it was for his own home rather than the Void. He looked away to lean back, resting his bottle on a windowsill before he faced him again.] She'll have her own little corner that someone can one day ruin, if we're lucky.

And you look better than a whale on legs, anyway. [He tried to offer a faint smile, through the ritual killing being sang below.] Even if your judgement is just as annoying.

How many whales on legs have you met, dear Corvo? Present company excluded. [why is he like this

At least they're both bitter about the things that matter - Delilah, the ritual killing, all of that... good stuff. The Outsider leans a little more over the railing, like he really wants to hear this part.]

They left out the struggle. [why is he like this?] Poetic license?

[Here, he looks at Corvo, like give him an opinion on this...]

Don't be smart. [Corvo mutters, but he laughs quietly none-the-less. He looks back out at the pair and their small crowd, at least still somewhat enjoying himself. There was some irony standing right next to what they thought only appeared in ancient history.

At the question, though, he struggles. Both Jessamine and Emily had tried to have him find meaning in these things, but he didn't understand then. He still didn't now. He's a simple man.]

... Limited imagination. [He tried to make light of it.] They fit in the screaming, at least. Satisfied?

No. [Well... he isn't. It's hard to be satisfied with a song all about the time you were murdered, even 4,000 years later and with all of his irreverent comments about it.

In any case, he's had enough of listening closely to it, instead straightening up from the railing and moving half a step back, to consider the rest of the street. Hmm.]

What else are you going to show me?

Er... [Corvo hadn't thought much further than this. Honestly, he hadn't thought much past holding Outsider's hand. It's amazing he's got this far.

Ignore him looking around for another destination. His eyes settle on the sky, the lights of the city blocking the view of the stars. That wouldn't do.

He looks towards the open window, wordlessly Blinking over the ledge and into the warmth of an apartment. It smelled of perfume and sounded as though the women inside were getting to know each other. Corvo vanished before they went any further.

It's a good thing time stopped, because they were suspended in open air before finally reaching a rooftop. He was out of ~~mana~~ breath and leaning on the Outsider, however briefly.] You don't get this... in Dunwall.

[To be fair, he knows this little tour wasn't exactly planned. He's feeling remarkably patient, and inspired to keep hanging around instead of vanishing back to the Void. That has almost everything to do with Corvo still holding his hand, so...

He'll graciously ignore Corvo's bad planning, but not the way he Blinks them into a secret tryst for a second there. He comments on this only with a raised eyebrow, one that lasts until they find their footing again on this rooftop.]

The view? [His hand still holding the bottle of pear soda comes up to hover close to Corvo's shoulder when he slumps against him, even briefly. How can he be... this old...] Of course, we are in the Jewel of the South. Perhaps this, instead, is the finest view in all Karnaca.

[Corvo knew he was this old. He knew with the heaviness that came in his climbing, and involuntary groan when his joints just weren't taking it. He rolls his shoulders, letting go of the Outsider's hand without thinking.

Oh. He turns, flexing his fingers as he noticed what he'd done. It would be too awkward to take it again, wouldn't it? He frowned, but clasped it over his Mark instead. Stupid.] I'd bet coin you would say that again if I took you somewhere else.

[The view was nice, though. Nostalgic.] I don't think I've enjoyed it since I was a boy. Younger than-- [He stops himself before he can say you.] ... Younger.

[Oh— there goes his hand. The Outsider's falls back to his side, feeling strangely more empty than it had before any of this started, but he says nothing. He sure would say that to every single view, though.

But since Corvo isn't holding his hand, he has no choice but to turn slightly away and walk toward the edge of this rooftop for a look around. He's not even looking up at the stars, hmm...]

Well, you've been busy. [That's a good word for Corvo's life and times, isn't it? Busy. Romancing an Empress, busy; losing her and raising another, busy; dealing with him, busy. So busy.] What happened to your drink?

[Corvo regrets letting go. Now he has to stand there, debating whether or not following him so closely after letting go would be too odd. He shouldn't worry about this, he doesn't worry about this with anyone else, and yet...

He opts to take a moment, his admiration not on the stars, but how the Outsider looked before them. It was so much better than the Void, where there was no endless feeling of falling in despair. Instead warm, steady, beautiful--]

I... forgot. [He sighed, crossing his arms as he walked to the edge.] If you like it so much, you don't have to share.

[He's supposed to be teasing.]

[...Well, Corvo is doing his best. The Outsider looks away from the skyline and back to Corvo again, head tilting as he considers him approaching. The feeling he gets when Corvo comes to stand next to him is difficult to describe, but in the simplest sense, it's comfortable.

The longer they wander around the city, the less he wants to return to the Void— not that wanting to return to the Void is necessarily he or anyone else has ever felt, but it's the general principle. He's... enjoying himself.

After a moment he looks away again, to the scenery, but he holds the soda out to Corvo wordlessly. Go ahead, drink his drink. Forgetful old man.]

[Corvo blinks, looking between the Outsider and the soda in mild disbelief. This sure was a thing that he was doing. Why...

He hesitates, reaching out and taking it with a mutter of thanks under his breath. The Outsider was being nice. The Outsider was enjoying himself. He was the reason he was enjoying himself.

He takes a long sip to contemplate what he says next.] ... You don't have to go back right now. [Aka, he doesn't want him to.]

[Mm. There are plenty of things he could say to that, he thinks, from dismissing Corvo completely to... being nice. Again. Nicer than just sharing his soda (that Corvo's pickpocketing paid for).

Plenty of things...]

I wasn't jumping at the chance. [so....]

I mean. [Corvo could have change the subject and not go out of his way to say anything, yet here he is, clearing his throat.] For the next... hour, or. Longer. The world doesn't have to slow down just to see things, or find them interesting, or...

... I'd rather not lose the company. Your company. [He never thought he'd be saying that.]

[Aha, so he can say it. It's just one more thing about tonight that's been new and different, and the Outsider still can't find any complaints. Spending time around Corvo without the oppressive pressure of the world changing paradigm after paradigm around them is nice.

Yet again, the disquiet that hovers just in his periphery at all times seems to have calmed down for the moment. Is he imagining that? Does Corvo truly have that profound an effect on him?]

Old friend, yours is the only company I find myself willing to keep. Until the Empress seeks you out again to stand by her side, the night is young.

At least one thing is young. [His expression lights up more than it should. Corvo spent their previous encounters counting down until the Outsider disappeared, but now it was the last thing he wanted to think about.

He looks back out at the sky, leaving from the grand old tree breezing by and the sound of street-goers enjoying themselves below. He kneels, sitting down the bottle between them and moving to sit with his legs hanging over the edge.

Once he's settled, his hand is reaching back towards the Outsider's. Come, join him, let him lace his fingers in yours again.]

[Point, there are only old men here. The Outsider watches Corvo sit before moving to join him and reaching for his hand. The real challenge will be trying not to fidget and sit in 30 different positions while holding hands, honestly. So far he dangles one leg over the edge, the other one bent at the knee so he can rest his other arm on it.

So, they're just going to sit here and hold hands, huh...? He doesn't mind; it's a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the sounds coming from below and the soft rustling of the wind.

But after a few minutes, he does find himself curious.] You've had a change of heart. [About him, that is-] Just what brought that on?

[Corvo shut his eyes, taking the silence to enjoy the familiar feel and sounds of his homeland. He wouldn't have spent the time if it weren't for the Outsider's visit, locked away in a palace he didn't remember in a bed that was just too soft. It was better, no matter how strange.

The answer to his question is probably the easiest thing that's come to him all night.] You haven't pulled me into the unknown to narrate how I can still lose the only thing I have left. Funny, how the heart can grow fonder when it isn't being asked if it'll turn to stone.

[He shifts, leaning back on his free hand and opening his eyes to glance back over.] I thought you as sadistic as the Abbey preached when I was a young man. But now, even in the face of a threat to you, you offered my daughter your mark as a choice when no one else had.

Now you're visiting me now with no other reason other than to call me an old friend. You're allowing a great many things that I'd expect others would lose fingers for if they tried. [First touching his clothes, his hair, and now holding his hand. A hand he's holding as if he might vanish anyway.] And I like that.

[Well. That's all very interesting, and he almost accepts it with a hum and goes back to looking at the sky. But for Corvo... and only for Corvo, he supposes he can give him more than a vague noise of acceptance.]

There are several kinds of power in this world, Corvo. The power to unjustly crush the poor, the weak, the sick; the power to crush one's enemies; the power to change the course of an empire with a smile and a few hushed conversations only a select few may hear. Then, there is the Void. The unknown. The ever-changing, the mysterious. A great deal of the power one might say I possess comes from fear of that unknowable nothingness.

It's hardly infallible. Delilah did not fear the Void, and she was hardly the first. [The first to stick in it like a thorn and wrap her tendrils as tightly as she could - sure. But not the first to meet oblivion and scoff.] So, then, what do I do from the depths of that great emptiness? I can give— I can offer, or suggest, but my hand pulls no strings except to present an opportunity. The Abbey believes I deal in control and dark magic and the inevitable ruin of any mind I touch, but I like to think of it as... options.

There is always a choice, Corvo. You could have made it yourself, all those years ago. [He's almost fond when he says that, like those days were great to remember.] Daud built his own smaller empire with the gifts I gave him, a thing I had never told him to do. There is always a choice. For all my gifts, both you and young Emily chose your own justice over revenge. Of course I find the two of you to be very interesting.

[He leans toward Corvo slightly, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.] And you in particular are quite fond of my gifts, isn't that the truth? I can see it in your eyes, the rush, the freedom— You're welcome.

[The Outsider brought up so many things Corvo could be bitter about, but as he's done before, he held his tongue and listened with mild interest. Delilah, Daud, the Void itself. If he were honest, his realm was unsettling, and to hear him speak of it so casually was always something he couldn't wrap his head around.

But that was fine. He didn't need to. He'll hear his experiences secondhand, because at the very least it still wasn't the bad old days. He was even saying he had a choice back then, and while he'd hate to admit it, it was true. He wouldn't have used the powers if he hadn't truly wanted them.

Those powers... A smile tugs back at the corner of his lips when he leans back towards the giver. He came close to looking him in the eyes, but ultimately, his gaze settled on his lips instead.] You're itching for someone to finally tell you they feel good, aren't you?

I'll admit it, then. Using the Mark burns deep, but it's a better than any feeling a man could have. Jumping where it should be fatal, watching time slow and seeing the faces of who ever tried to take back what is ours, unable to do anything... Knowing you have the upper hand on someone who otherwise might destroy you. The adrenaline is almost maddening.

[The Outsider does want someone to tell him his gifts feel good. It's an incredibly simple desire and it's one he hasn't held very long, or hasn't acknowledged holding— he's never wanted someone to appreciate him before. He's been entrenched for so long in darkness, in bitterness and fear, that on some level it didn't occur to him as something worth wanting.

But now he wants someone - wants Corvo to say it, even if he isn't sure what that's supposed to mean. He does find it interesting to hear about his gifts being things of... pleasure, for lack of a better word. Adrenaline. The Outsider has felt nothing but a simmering anger and a gut-wrenching fear for too long; now, he wants to hear about how these things designed to bring misery and death have brought freedom and power.

Also, Corvo's face is very close.]

And yet you still found a way to heal the Empire without shedding much blood. Imagine my surprise, all those years ago. [Not that he was subtle about it. With his other hand he reaches to touch his fingertips to Corvo's cheek again, studying his face. Corvo doesn't have to look at his eyes for the Outsider to roam them all over his face, this close, taking in the details.] You never cease to intrigue me.

I don't have to imagine it. [Corvo can't help the grin he now has. The Outsider made no effort to conceal his thoughts back then. Corvo just didn't have the time to appreciate it.

He does now, though. He appreciates the praise instead of mockery, and the lips they fell from. He still looked so young, that it almost felt wrong to have such close contact, but with one look at his eyes he remembers who he's actually dealing with.] And I don't intend to start.

[He doesn't have to imagine the way he hand feels on the Outsider's neck, nor how his lips feel against his. He takes the feeling for himself, as gently and slowly as he would allow himself.]

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