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vaguely-concerned · 4 years

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I played Death of the Outsider finally and I have some Feelings about it

and most of them not very positive. nice stuff first tho!

THINGS I LIKED:

- billie is such a good character. still new to her old self and slightly tender from coming out of the protective shell of lies that was meagan foster, full of old scars and doubts and bitterness but trying for something better, something kinder even though she still doesn’t quite understand what she’s walking towards -- the genuine care and tenderness in her voice when she talks to daud or thinks about deidre. I love her.

all that and she effortlessly IS also the queer disabled woc the gamer bros refuse to believe could possibly exist. exquisite.

- the idea of ‘killing’ the outsider is compelling, but it’s the sort of idea that needs a full length game to support it and its implications. cool idea, completely wrong execution.

- saying that: I love that the injustice of the outsider’s creation being righted is only made possible by a long unbroken line of mercy and kindness. daud saved billie from the streets, corvo spared daud, daud saved emily and spared billie after her betrayal, billie tried to save aramis stilton and became entangled in the void, emily spared billie, billie took this job in the first place partly because she loves her dad daud and wants him to find peace. that idea is so beautiful that I wish the rest of the narrative was strong enough to hold it up lol.

there’s also something going on here with other people holding on to the important pieces of you -- that billie is ‘all that is left’ of daud after he’s dead. once he saved a child from true loneliness and gave her a purpose, made her feel seen again, gave her the closest thing she had to a home, and when he’s completely lost himself in the void... that kindness is still alive in billie, and she helps him find his way. again that is really touching and thoughtful and plays wonderfully into the chaos system in these games thematically! too bad about all the stilted dialogue and characterization messes and uh. everything else.

- most of all I love how clear it is that billie and daud love each other. it’s a quiet love that has nothing to prove anymore, it’s survived all the blood and the ugliness and everything they’ve done to each other and to the world, a love with no demands left. it’s not the sort of love you usually see, in all its unsentimentality, but it’s real. when daud tells her he’s proud of her and trusts her no matter what she chooses to do, you feel how much he means it. (making his insistence on trying to make her choice for her all the weirder -- see my long rant of lamentation about his characterization in doto below lol)

there’s something about daud’s undramatic yet complete acceptance of and respect for billie that... I didn’t know I needed this, but it was a nice gift nonetheless haha, thank you. (it’s similar to how good it feels in D2 when you realize corvo just likes emily a lot as a person, even aside from her being his daughter. a good series for father & daughter stories)

- this carries over from D2, but I think the journal/log entries are better written and more insightful than the stuff out in the world.

- it cannot be overstated how much the gameplay loop of these games is just... pure crack cocaine for my brain haha, very few things give me this specific kind of brain tingle. I love the sound of looting and I love the art style and ambiance and I love planning out a strategy after finding all the options and I love never being spotted or killing anyone and I love the puzzle elements they put into exploration sections and I love the feeling of how you move through the environment. it’s one of the few games where I routinely get so into it I end up with a crick in the neck because I’ve been so focused for so long and never noticed I’ve been sitting in a way that makes my entire spine hate me. I needed something to get me through the last few days and it did deliver that, at least. karnaca is pretty enough that I didn’t even mind that most of the levels were recycled from D2 either.

- I’m not quite sure whether I understood this right but there’s a woman standing behind daud in the void -- I wonder if that is actually his mother and he’s been so close this whole time? at first I thought maybe it was jessamine but god no I hope she’s finally at peace after All That Nonsense, she shouldn’t have to hang around there anymore. there’s also a figure near him I could swear was corvo with his mask on, but he’s not dead canonically so that would make very little sense. oh well I’ll take my feels where I can get them even if I have to make them up wholesale

- the bankheist was cool as fuuuuuck, that and the emotional impact of daud dying was sadly the height of this game for me, after that it all went mediocre real quick

- paul nakauchi as shan yun was, as I have said before, a blast. ‘ugh I cannot continue my throat is as raw as a plucked pheasant’ fsdkfhlsadjkhfas

- daud’s funeral is genuinely touching. she gave him the entirety of her old life for a sendoff, battered and worn and dear as they both were. someone hold me

THINGS I H A T E D:

- the stuff they did with daud’s characterization. I am so unreasonably angry over this haha, the more I think about it the more I hate it. I think there are paths you could go with his ACTUAL character to make this work, but this was not it. I’ve said this before, but his most iconic, most defining scene is him surrendering himself to corvo’s judgement without justifying himself or deflecting the blame for any of what he’s done. this isn’t even regression in his character, it’s just.. a different character altogether. they could have gone for the angle that delilah almost managed to end the world b/c daud showed mercy and that’s the reason he’s moved to action, I think that might be a more compelling motivation for him at least. OR have him be more conflicted about how to do things -- violence is still the only tool he knows how to use but it’s not what he wants to or even can be anymore and the conflict troubles him, ‘His hands do violence, but there is a different dream in his heart’. or even use a different character for the ‘kill kill kill’ angle, he didn’t need to be here for this dlc at all.

also, just on a purely practical level... for all his flaws and longstanding moral shortsightedness daud is not a stupid man. why the FCK would he be so sure that killing the outsider will fix anything? if I, dumbass extraordinaire, could within half a minute wonder if maybe something even worse would take the outsider’s place if you removed him... why does that never occur to the Knife of Dunwall tm, a man about Void for like half a century or whatever?? ugh fuck this, I’m having a hard time explaining exactly why it all feels weird and wrong to me, but know that it does and that I Do Not Like It lol. I feel cheated out of something important I thought I had.

- again, this should have been a full game. (I think it is sold as one already, but it just hm isn’t) there’s way too much shit of literal cosmic importance for the game’s universe being picked up here for something this short to cover. save this HUGE idea for a rainy day should you ever want to do another game in the series and do something else with the dlc, honestly.

- god but the outsider is insufferable in this. I don’t know what happened, but by the end I was like ‘*thoughtfully strokes chin* maybe daud has a point billie keep that knife handy’. he’s annoying and boring, which is wild to me because he was always a lot of fun in the other games.

for real tho I don’t know if this is just my atheist-but-still-angry-at-god-somehow??? talking, but daud HAS a point. people are responsible for their own actions, but the outsider didn’t have to do any of what he did either. he could have chosen to be bored through the centuries instead of seeing what people would do if you gave them such ~*morally neutral*~ abilities as y’know summoning a bunch of rats to eat other people. the game wants me to buy the ‘but really this black eyed boy is woobie tho uwu’ so badly and no I’m not buying that give me my refund I want my chaotic neutral bastard back pls. I’d probably be more inclined to want to help him like that. where’s his salt gone, arkane. if you didn’t want him to be edgy why did you make him look like that.

- this is the lamest possible version of the outsider’s backstory lol, it feels like the pearl clutching panic about satanic cults back in the day all over. listen if it’s this easy to make a god the thrill is sort of taken out of it, if these randos did it anyone could. also how the fuck are they just normal-ish people anyway? why do they follow modern fashions? haven’t they been hanging around for thousands of years, haven’t their culture changed in any meaningful way? (I realize these aren’t the same guys as back in the day but it’s just weird) why do they speak a language billie and the player can understand? why did anyone think ‘idk some cultists no one’s ever heard of before with no thematic significance whatsoever’ was the way to go world building wise? they’ve taken all the unknowable eldritchness out of the eldritch horror and we’re all poorer for it now haha

relatedly the last level is... just not very good. you come down from the awesome bank heist and then there’s... whatever the fuck this was.

- while I do like billie finding daud in the void and him remembering her I hate that he goes out still full of self loathing and rage when you talk him into the nonlethal option, that he can’t forgive himself or find any sliver of hope or peace. I wish there had been a few more moments for the two of them to come to peace with themselves before he gave the outsider back his name, some real catharsis. as it is I was annoyed when the outsider ‘woke up’ or whatever b/c it felt like he was stealing attention from what I was actually emotionally invested in and not done with.

they had n o t built up billie’s or my sympathy for the outsider well enough either. again this is something I think they could have done if they’d structured things differently, if they’d been more deliberate in making you understand he was basically a child and letting you dwell on it. because there is a parallell there between him and billie, and billie and daud, but I, how do I put this, did not give a fuck

in short this was really similar to my experience with D2 in that there’s enough good there that it’s all the more painful when it fails to deliver on it again and again, and it ruined things I already liked about this story from the first game (daud’s arc and everything to do with the outsider, mostly). give me some months of denial and hard core headcanon work and I’ll probably be able to live with it

#*shows up to doto years late with enraged takes and starbucks*#dishonored #death of the outsider #meta #I am ranting but it really is because I do love these games and it hurts me when they let themselves down like this lol

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aimlessfool · 5 years

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(First Part) Daud’s Journal, last part:

(Two pages has been skipped, a drawing of an Amygdyla on the page beside the words.)

More Beasts fall by the kid's swords, and I couldn't be more proud. They're taking over for their old man, it seems. They still need a few years to catch up, though, so I'm not worried they'll out do me. They all got counts, like they're competing, and I'm glad they didn't listen to that old loon of a Hunter that passed by, preaching his newfound knowledge. I would say he has seen too much, but what Hunter hasn't? (A slight headshot of a familiar figure with cloth over one of his eyes are right by the text)

I find myself still recovering. At least my mind is clearer lately, but I still see it. It keeps it's eyes on me when I pass that part, and it tears at me in ways I can't explain. I wonder if I'm the only one seeing it.

The kids know something is wrong by now. I don't blame them for picking up on it, I have been careless- Can't say I'm proud of that. I wish I could tell them- but it wouldn't do much good. They might even go and find him. I don't want to see you- I can't. Not after what I did to you. To her.

I've done enough damage.

I'm wondering if they're reading this, though. Thomas seems too aware.

More hunting today. The kids decided to take a dip, swimming in the lake out in the forest by the city, and they had their fun, even dragging my coat off me and throwing it into the water. Currently they're sleeping soundly, I can even hear Rinaldo snore. Guess he picked up a cold.

Means I'll be hunting down apples tomorrow. And while I'm at it, the rest of the kids favourite fruits. They deserve it for their efforts today- and for making me finally wash my coat.

(There's water stains on the page.) Kid's sleeping, stuffed on fruit. I got home late, but they didn't mind. I almost met him on my way home. I was careless- too distracted.

He called for me- so many times. He noticed me using my powers- he always did. He looked for me for so long. I wish you knew. You wouldn't had wasted your time on me- or tears. You would be gone. Away from Yharnam with your daughter. You did say you'd join her.

I should had seen this coming.

I don't want to sleep. You're there, always.

You never leave.

No sleep tonight, no sleep last night. As it should be. The kids shut me inside of my room again. I suppose it's another hunt. I can't stay cooped up inside.

A week went by quickly, didn't it. THe kids didn't find me, Corvo didn't find me. I was lost myself for a while.

The only reason I came back was that I realised something. The old loon was right.

I'm debating if I can tell the kids for ever second that goes by. Wasting time too by writing.

I should let him find me. Have him kill me. He is the only one who can- in a fair fight.

The kids didn't take it well. Thomas nearly pounced me to see my eye, he didn't want to believe it- none of them did. I've never seen them cry like that and... I wish I never had to. they're just kids. they don't deserve this.

watching it move, feeling it, it's odd. and feels familiar to the feeling i have whenever i look at the creature. i found a book about it, it's called Amygdyla. tears your mind apart if you look on it. causes a frenzy. I wonder why it hasn't happened to me. must be all the insight i have. knowledge of these things. maybe the outsider was useful for something else than only suffering. i'll be teaching the kids about this. they've yet to take blood, they're be more exposed.

i just hope this won't backfire.

i feel sick- naeseous at the sight of blood. must be the last remainders of what little sense i have left speaking. but if my wounds won't heal blood it is. there's nothing else.

I met Deidre today. She approached me, asked if I was Daud. I suppose Billie told her about me. Her parents had been lost to the blood, she told me. Asked me if I could kill them, put them out of their misery. I asked her how she knew.

Seeing them was the answer I got. They were easy to kill- almost too easy, and I had to console her afterwards.

I sent her to Billie. To my old hometown. Hopefully she'll make it.

Is that how I'll end up...? A wandering memory of an old man, ripe for slaughter? Or a mad- terrifying abomination, lost to bloodlust? Old Yharnam has more eldritch Beasts- and they're closer to the church. Might just mean something.

Deidre's parents still haunt me. More than the others, for she was close. I still remember how her parents made sure she had food for whenever Deidre spent time with Billie, thinking I couldn't provide. Not true.

I never cared for the city, nor it's people- they never cared for me or the kids. Is what I'm doing revenge for this? For the kids and how a Hunter had to take them in? I can't see any area in this that ins't black or white. All I know is that they deserve better than me. A man lost to grief and the Old Blood is no good father. But. This wasn't supposed to happen. Nothing was.

Three years- and I see him with his daughter, teaching her how to fight. How to Hunt. Means he's been home, met Billie. I just hope none of them are taking blood. And Billie at least listened and stayed there. I would go and see her if I could.

There's just many Beasts. Too much to do. I feel the pull of the Hunt so strongly. It's all I do.

I want so much more than this. But he deservers better. Her too.

I'm exhausted.

I met the old lady with the bakery today- after passing by. She asked me to escort her out of Yharnam- and so I did. Paid me, I refused the money. It'll be useless soon anyway, as things are developing. Back to the Hunt. There is not rest now.

She mentioned my eyes are more blue. i didn't know she had insight. told me to wash my coat too. i wonder what i would be without my powers. without the outsider in my head.

(There's tear stains on the page, words written in a shaky hand) I lost two of them. One a year ago. Another today. I couldn't stop it. I watched them. couldn't do anyhing they're gone. i killed them

i told the kids to get lost if they knew what was good for them they didn't leave then I'll just have to stop being home.

they think they can kill me if i lose myself to the blood. they've been whispering about it, laying plans. looking down as I listened, i could see that light. swirling around my hands, escaping my body I need more insight to keep this up.

more blood tonight. i can't rid myself of those wounds. I keep tearing them up. either that or i'm poisoned pain is terrible.

Looked for Corvo, and didn't find him. My days are numbered. will keep looking for him. My mind is clear enough to tell him, the potion my mother used to give me helped the pain.

I don't think you'll find this- but this has to be said to you, somehow.

I killed her, Corvo. Jessamine's death was by my hand. If I had known it was her, I wouldn't had raised my sword. But I only got to know once you sat with her in your arms, when I was about to tell you I hadn't seen her, after we sent Emily and Billie home. Home to your mother. Home to my old house. You looked broken. Dead eyes. I couldn't tell you. Even though I wanted to, so badly. It would break you, Corvo. I wouldn't care about my own feelings if I told you. I would take that punishment. But to break your heart further. No. I wish it had been me, laying there, dead- instead. I wish so much were different, I can't even begin to tell you. There's so much I can't tell you. So much you deserve to know. Even if it doesn't matter anymore. It's up to you, Corvo, if you want to read the rest. I don't care either way. I'm already gone to the blood- and if you see me, kill me.

I stayed away because I know you. You would want to Hunt with me. It could've taken your life, be it by a Beast of the blood, or me, taken over by the blood. I don't think either your wife or child would be happy for that. Neither for me. I've had enough losing you once.

I lost not because of her. I lost you because I decided to- and you lost me, because I decided to.. You got the life you wanted, and it is where you belong- where you're needed. I wanted this for you, from the day you told me about her- and I couldn't say it then- but I was happy for you. When you beamed on about her, gripped my hand out of happiness as you spoke, I wanted you to stay that happy. You had already spoken of a life with family, so I should had been prepared, should I? Said something. But the day came, and I fell silent.

You were all I knew- Corvo. My life with you, was all I had.

I love you. In so many ways- I can't even begin to describe it. For every day we had together, every meal... The twelve years we spent together were the happinest time of my life.

I never told you. I didn't want to- dare to. It was enough that you were there with me, enough that you didn't detest me. Once you were getting ready to leave, around the last days we spent together, I wasn't jealous. I never resented her, nor you. I love you too much for that. I stayed away to not ruin your new life. I had no place there- I wouldn't fit. Hunting is all I know, else from you, because I made it so. You were never at fault- this was all my own choices, as selfish as they were, I see that now. I wish I had realised this before it was too late. Wish I had listened to my heart, that were always missing you. Always longing to go and see you. I was planning to, actually-that's why you saw me. I sohuld had considered your feelings in this. I just couldn't see that you would miss me. Want me around. You had her. Who would want more?

I'm sorry I could never tell you this in person.

And I'm so sorry about everything. Things just never go as you hope. As you plan. For years I've seen it. For years I've been too stubborn to do something about it, and now, it's too late, everything is falling to ruin. The blood is taking me. I'll become a mindless Beast- I can feel it, see it. And when I do end up like this, you will find me- if you want to or not. I'm certain of it. Even if you hate me, or still think of me as a friend, I again ask you to kill me. Put me out of harms way to others. You know my powers.

Please live, Corvo. Don't let me kill you.

It's time to try to sleep now, though. I'd say I hope to meet you in another life, but I don't deserve it after what I've done to you. So.

Goodbye, Corvo. As selfish as it is to say,; I love you. I'll always love you.

i told the kids to run. they're still here. more blood- i'm out of potion. i can't think anymore my eye hurts. my mind hurts. wounds too

the outsiders laughing in my head. it's too loud

- I'd say this is my last entry, I know what will happen after this blood vial. or another one after this. but there’s no harm if I’m already gone. the quicker the better. kids are out hunting, hopefully i'll be gone before they come home.

I’m sorry.

#dishonored #bloodborne au #corvo x daud #corvo/daud #corvodaud #knifecrow #corvo attano #daud #blood #HEAVY ANGST #tw death #corvo is sort of dying as he reads this #he ends up in daud's bed and rests thus h e survives... :'''''''D #tw blood #daud loses himself a lot in this so he's sorta weird

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onewhoturns · 6 years

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pt 3 - Protector

Did you miss Part 2? Part 1? Here’s part the third - an interlude, to some extent. Again, credit to @kaldwinqueen for the Outsider. I wrote for Emily and Corvo. This chapter is all adorable dad and angsty whale boi. Posted to AO3, so go leave it some love. Part 3 in The Void Devours. [If you have trouble with formatting, click through to keep reading]

Emily was asleep within five minutes of her head hitting the pillow.

She’d offered the bed to him, after realizing he’d made a good point -- not wanting to just summon servants to her room with a cot only to explain the sudden appearance of a man. She offered to sleep on the divan. But he’d refused, so she slipped under her covers despite the still setting sun, and was out in an instant.

She was still asleep some time later, when an assertive knocking came at her door. “Your Majesty.” It was Corvo, his voice typically gruff but perhaps a bit on edge. A harder knock. “Emily.” She didn’t stir.

Oliver had taken his seat on the couch and for several minutes he sat at the end with his back against the arm and his knees tucked to his chest. His shirt had gotten a bit wrinkled -- which annoyed him to no end, but otherwise he remained pretty presentable. It was when she passed out that he buried his hands in his hair, tugging at it and grumbling to himself unsteadily, trying to remain quiet. Though he was certain that no amount of his angsty bickering would actually wake her.

He left it that way, disheveled and tossed about, figuring he could fix it later before she woke. He knew that wouldn't be for another long while but he was a patient man.

He was a man.

He breathed out. Breathed in, capturing the breath and holding it there, bringing his hand up, now raw with a cut that had stopped bleeding, and he stroked the thin line across his throat before breathing out again.

He had was a man who had survived.

His eyes flickered over to the door at the sound of the knock and for a split second he weighed his options. Leave and disturb her sleep, open the door and disturb her sleep, or, hide. Yes. That seemed to be, in his now very much alive and human mind, the best course of action in the moment. But once he found himself hidden behind the royal purple drapery, silk covering the expanse of his body as he leaned back against the cold window, he realized that this perhaps was in fact not the best course of action.

He realized this of course, when it was too late. So he would ride this out and hope to the very void itself and beyond that Corvo wasn't on high alert like the watch dog he was trained to be.

A louder knock. “Emily, I’m coming in.” And in another minute he was in the door. While not frenzied per se, there was a definite anxiety in his tight lips and sharp eyes, that softened when he spotted his daughter sleeping soundly. He always softened for her. She was his weakness, he was her strength. The most loyal subject she would ever have.

Corvo took soft steps to her bedside, sitting on the edge. He remembered doing this same thing back when she was younger -- especially during the rat plague and right after it, right after Jessamine…

With a gentle hand he smoothed the hair from her face, pausing just a moment to feel her temperature. She hadn’t been well lately. She’d been hiding it - attempting to hide it - but he wasn’t as easily fooled as some others in the tower. He’d planned to give her another couple days to fix it herself before he would send Hypatia straight to her. Still, now she seemed at peace, cocooned in a deep sleep.

He leaned down and placed a bristly kiss on her forehead. All this responsibility, and she was still a kid. But she’d always be a kid to him. His kid.

The last week she’d been restless and seemed steeped in hectic energy, but now she was just a young woman in slumber. “You’re gonna be okay, Em,” he assured her sleeping form, giving her hand a squeeze. He looked down at the gloves that still covered her hands even in sleep - not knowing if she’d ever be called from bed, or walked in on. His eyes were pained again, reminded of the struggle she now faced, all because he hadn’t been there, hadn’t done his job well enough. He’d failed her, when she needed it most. But she’d come out of it as strong as ever -- stronger, even. “You’re a good kid.” He pulled the blankets up a little further around her, and held her hand again. “I’m proud of you, Em. And I’m gonna keep you safe. I promise.” He never got to talk like this to her anymore. Not after 14, where anytime he got emotional she would roll her eyes and make gagging sounds. But she couldn’t tell him off now. And he needed to tell her things like this sometimes.

Satisfied his daughter was peaceful and comfortable, he turned his attention to the rest of the room. Eyes scanned over every surface as he did the cursory Royal Protector scan, the same he did every time he escorted her to some new location. He didn’t go check her drinks for poison - not right this second, anyway - but he looked over the entrances and exits, checked for weak spots in security. His eyes narrowed, lips thinning into a hard line as he spotted the shape in the curtains. Assassin? If they were, they weren’t particularly good at it.

Quick, silent steps, circling around from the side. He couldn’t quite see the figure, but he was sizing them up already. His arm shot out, wrapping around what should be the neck area, pressing the tip of his crossbow into the side of the - man? Seemed like it was a man, too tall for most women. “Hands where I can see them.” A quick glance to the bed. “And keep quiet.” He wasn’t about to wake Emily if he didn’t need to.

Oliver listened and closely so, eyes closed as he grinned faintly. He'd always been so fixated on the bond they shared, his own father having been... not the greatest, to say the least. And perhaps he'd also been just the slightest bit envious as well. But his parents were long gone, even before he'd been cast into the Void on that awful day in the Month of Darkness. Billie was the closest he had to a mother these days but if he were being honest she was far more a sister than anything, or at least, he felt he could trust her more than he could trust a mother. Then again, he didn't exactly know the standards here.

He had no frame of reference for that kind of-

Oh.

His eyes widened and his whole body tensed, adrenaline rushing again. "I assure you that waking Emily is the exact opposite of what I'm here for," he whispered back, bright wide eyes flickering over as best as they could in an attempt to meet his. "I can explain this, and with a fair amount of eloquence, but I urge you not to stab me and to remain calm and rational."

Corvo’s eyes flashed angrily. “I told you no contact with the rest of the tower.” His voice was only slightly gruffer than normal. Irritated, not infuriated. “How hard is that for you to understand?” He lowered his weapon but still pulled Oliver out from his hiding place, stepping between his daughter and the former god. He looked over him in a quick assessment. Messy hair. Wrinkled clothes.

“What are you doing in my daughter’s bedroom?” And he was talking about his daughter, not just the Empress of the Isles. His voice had gone hard, crossbow raising again but not aiming. Not that he’d need to at such close range. He glared at the man who’d been cowered in the corner of his daughter’s room. He had a lot of explaining to do. As much as Corvo trusted Emily, if he were to double it, that’s how much he didn’t trust Oliver. At least, around his daughter.

"Now I am... fully aware of how this looks." He glanced down at the crossbow and his eyes flickered back up to Corvo, then to Emily. "... And I am also aware of how much explaining this might require." He took a deep breath and anxiously ran a hand through his hair, a habit he was quickly beginning to develop over his past few months of being human. He supposed it was better than nail biting or fidgeting to the point of distraction.

He thought for a moment, trying to gather himself and the words he would use, considering the rhetoric with which to approach the subject and deciding that starting off with 'My dear Corvo' would probably get him an arrow between the eyes... or somewhere else a bit unsavory.

"There are things you take for granted, when you're a human, when you can feel everything so much that it fades from your awareness and easily becomes nothing but noise in the background of everyday life. Sensations were luxury in the Void. To surpass anything but a cold, numb, nothing was bliss, and to be deprived from basic human... basic functions of sentience... existing... for four thousand... for many long years-" He found himself stumbling over his words, stopping a moment to catch himself. Corvo Attano did not know his origins, his story. This would all be foreign to him, it was difficult to explain to someone when it felt so out of context.

He hadn't noticed it before, the fear that had settled within his chest, tightening, tugging, pulling him into himself. He wasn't afraid of Corvo Attano, but the idea that he might never see Emily again, the idea that all of this would sound like rubbish to a man who had little time to entertain him. He wondered for a moment if it were even worth explaining, if words themselves could ever do justice to the way that he felt that night.

"The Void watched. It stared, it commanded and I obeyed. And sometimes I would wonder if it were the hollow breeze of oblivion or the quiet cackling of the presence that kept me bound to an existence without existing. I knew, before Billie ventured to Shindaerey Peak, before Daud told her his plan, that in weeks time I would fade, and I would be liberated in one way or another. But even death itself could never fill the emptiness, the jagged hole that had been left when they... I approached Emily several months ago and we shared a drink and conversed and though I undoubtedly should have asked for your blessing before appearing before her so late at night and - I did not have time nor did I think that- o-or even expect that-..." He took a deep breath and he stared away, guilt clear on his face even if it were masked loosely behind the stoicism that was so characteristic of him.

"When I kissed her I wasn't aware it would have such explosive consequences... Not until it was already set in stone. There is a wound within her that invites the Void, and it is closing, slowly, but the more that she utilizes her abilities, the more it opens and tempts her. It troubles her late into the night, to the point that the simple human function of sleeping has now become something of a rarity. Because of my... unique connection, tether, to the Void, my presence seems to tame it, which allows her to sleep, among other things." He still didn't look up, swallowing harshly, a sweat pricking at his brow.

The younger man’s talk of 'sensations' wasn’t making it any better. Corvo’s eyes narrowed. His suspicions didn’t disappear as Oliver explained - or tried to explain - some aspect of being... Void-bound, for lack of a better term. Corvo very nearly rolled his eyes at the florid language. The kid was almost as bad as Wyman with their poetry. But that reaction quickly stilled.

His eyes stared daggers into the man who tripped over words of late-night rendezvouses and of asking for his blessing.

Even under his anger he had to acknowledge it; this kid was so damn stupid. Corvo had known better that to mention anything to Jessmine’s father the first time they ever- they were ever- …intimate. He hadn’t mentioned it to the man at all, actually: Jessamine had, and that was after the affair was already underway. Hells, the guy could’ve saved them both a lot trouble if he’d just kept his damn mouth shut. But he’d said it now. And Corvo had heard. And he wasn’t happy.

When you kissed her?! He bit his tongue to stop from shouting at the former god, hearing out the rest of his story. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure the rest was any better. Emotions battled within him -- primarily anger, that the punk had been so reckless, so selfish, so irresponsible as a god. It was one thing to go after heretics that writhed in hedonistic worship, but to set his sights on the Empress. On a woman - a girl, only 25 - who only took his Mark out of necessity. Corvo’s jaw was firm as he shook his head with disdain at the black-haired boy who cowered before him. The 'among other things' comment had him wincing and groaning - he didn’t want to know what other things. He really didn’t. And he didn’t want to know how Oliver knew.

And now he was left in the uncomfortable position of figuring out this whole situation. If he took Oliver away, he’d be hurting Emily. Protecting her, in a way, but - on a more immediate level - hurting her. If he let Oliver stay, he risked losing his still young and still perhaps not the most sound-in-judgment daughter to the temptations of the Outsider. At least the younger man’s words seemed sincere. And scared, which was good. He should be scared.

A moment of silence passed as Corvo weighed his options.

Finally, he put away the crossbow, straightening himself.

“Well you can’t leave,” he said flatly - an order. “You stay here now. Any time she needs to sleep, you’re here, you hear me?” He jutted an authoritative finger at the man. “And if she needs - whatever else she needs. You do it.” He had no idea what the situation was, entirely, but whatever it was; Emily’s well-being was top priority. “But by no means will you ever be touching my daughter, understand? You keep your hands off of her; I keep my hands off of you.”

Oh how he wished he could fade into nothing right now. How he so desperately desired the sweet embrace of nonexistence would sweep him off his feet and take him away from this awful, compromising situation. His eyes met Corvo's and something shattered within him, making his knees a little weak.

He hadn't realized it before, but even if he wasn't that scared of Corvo, he certainly was a terrifying man.

He nodded though, expression hardening in his sad attempt to save face. He went cold, stoic, impassive and unreadable. Even though he was beginning to ponder whether or not coming to the tower in the first place had even been the best course of action. No. Of course it was. Emily needed him, so he would be here. Besides... it felt nice to feel needed.

"It was the arrangement made after our conversation in the hidden chambers behind the fireplace near Dr. Hypatia's lab. She'd been on her way there in her silken nightgown with her hair draped down her..." He stopped himself there. Perhaps he should leave some things unspoken. Imagery set aside.

"I was to sleep here, she was to sleep there and converse with you on the matter in the morning," he explained, trying to change the subject.

Corvo stiffened as he mentioned the secret room. That was Jess’s place. That was his place now. He winced further as the boy went on. “Just-” Corvo held out a hand, “Just... stop talking.”

A brief pause, and luckily the topic was changed. The arrangements seemed… Glancing to Emily, Corvo nodded in reluctant agreement. So his daughter had made a smart choice after all. He really should trust her more.

He did trust her.

Just maybe not her hormones.

“She made the right choice. And I’ll be discussing it with her in the morning. In the meantime, I’ll be sleeping right here.” He promptly lay down on the ground between the couch and Emily’s bed, sending Oliver another glare. “Goodnight.” And with that he turned away from the man. He may not be falling asleep, but he was done listening to the former god pining over his daughter.

Oliver stared at Corvo, eyes widening faintly. He had definitely said something wrong. Perhaps multiple things but he wished people would tell him instead of expecting him to know, instead of scolding him for unintentional wrongdoings. But he was thankful that Corvo hadn't shot him at least. That was good. That was... progress.

He didn't reply, pulling himself back onto the couch and slinking back against the arm, leaning into the fabric with his knees tucked once more to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs, almost for dear life. He didn't sleep. He found it difficult to sleep actually, though he hadn't mentioned it to anyone he was sure Billie at least noticed.

The Void didn't have him physically but in spirit, it owned all. Even him. He would visit there sometimes in his dreams, walking the platforms again, wailing leviathans overhead. He would wake up in cold sweats, a numbness taking him just as he woke but fading away once he'd come to.

So he avoided it at all costs. And it wasn't like he'd get a good night's sleep right now even if he tried. Not with Corvo laying there, surely not sleeping either. His stomach grumbled and he realized he hadn't eaten dinner. But he ignored it, the faint aching was nice anyways. It was good to know he was still alive.

Minutes turned into hours but it passed in a blur that he hardly noticed. Notes suddenly began slipping from his closed lips and he hardly realized it himself but he began humming. Perhaps to quell the tense silence that had fallen on the room or maybe out of some odd nostalgia, to feel guilty brought back memories. His mother sick in bed, pale in the face, circles under her eyes as she caressed his cheek with her thumb and her palm. Cold. The Void already had her.

And she would sing to him, there would be a candle flickering somewhere in the room, and he wasn't sure why but her words, her breath that they provoked, it was lined with cold, as if a window had been left open, puffs of mist escaping from her. If this night were good for anything, it was thinking.

A small tear trailed down his cheek and he didn't know why he was sad, but he was.

If Emily had been aware of the hours passing, she may have cheered once she hit hour three. And then it was five, then eight - eight! - blissful hours of sleep. When she finally woke it was a solid ten hours later. Ten hours of perfect, pristine, beautiful, euphoric dreamless sleep. Seeing the light from the mostly-risen sun coming in through her windows and lighting her ceiling, Emily blinked. Morning. She’d slept til morning.

“Finally,” she whispered, eyes closed, overflowing with relief. She felt tears falling from her eyes and wiped them away, feeling silly. This shouldn’t be such a big deal, and yet it was. Emily writhed under her sheets, unable to help the joy that filled her, stretching and popping her joints as she woke up. She rejoiced in the act of waking, reveling in the feeling of her bed, arching her back against the mattress and clutching the sheets, letting out a purr of happiness.

She truly felt the sun. And it was beautiful.

She moaned with one final stretch, toes curling and fingers flexing against her headboard, then finally opened her eyes wide to the sun. She couldn’t help the small smile gracing her lips. It was a glorious day.

She rolled over, grabbing for the whale bone comb as she often did, starting in on the ends of her hair as she sat up, her whole body shuddering delightedly with newfound energy. It was a good day to be--

She stopped as her eyes spotted the Outsider. He didn’t appear to be sleeping.

At first he'd watched her, eyes flickering over her stirring body. But near immediately he turned his gaze away, not only to respect Corvo's wishes but also because he didn't want to tempt himself, didn't want to stare for too long that he might start desperately desiring her, that his hands might ache just to touch her. So he turned his gaze, lids lowered halfway, staring out the window and onto the water.

He told himself he didn't need her. He told himself over and over and over again until he was near mouthing it. He would find someone else, no, better yet, he would grow old and die alone like the vast majority of humans. She was not his belonging, he could not stare at her as such, you must restrict the wandering gaze.

He felt his stomach churning now. So that would make a total of two hungers he was now holding at bay. At least he could hopefully soon satiate one of them. He would get over the other. He would tell himself so much that he would start to believe it.

He hoped.

She felt a plethora of things as he turned away. A bit embarrassed that he’d spotted her rather frivolous response to the morning. Surprise that he was still there -- then again, she reasoned, that was surely why she’d made it to morning at all, but she was still mystified he’d stayed. There was also shame over her behavior the day before, mortification at the failed seduction, guilt at how he’d shut down in those last few moments. Gratefulness that he hadn’t abandoned her.

She felt her hard wall of the day before softening. Of course now she was beginning to understand. Now that she’d already made all of the mistakes. Now she saw how she could have been gentler, kinder, could have given him the touch - the simple affection - he so obviously longed for without viewing it all as some game of power. That wasn’t what it was to him, was it? Just to her. Just to her mind, brought up in halls where power was a monitored commodity, traded and withheld and redeemed by people with pretty clothes and ugly ambitions.

She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts straight, feeling some already slipping from her mind as they might through a sieve. At the very least she should apologize.

Emily leaned forward, crawling to the edge of the bed. “I-”

She cut herself off, at the sight of her father fast asleep on the floor. Her jaw dropped slightly, eyebrows furrowing then immediately raising in shock, a quick bounce of movement that would have surely been comical had she been aware of it. She looked to the Outsider, then gestured silently to her father’s body, cocking her head in question. All night? she mouthed. She’d never heard him come in. As she glanced down again, she felt a blush rising in her cheeks. By the seven bloody strictures - he’d seen the Outsider, then. She winced. That would take some explaining.

He was beginning to hope for a lot of things lately, one of those being that she would be the one to explain everything to him. With her, words came naturally, as if he were in the Void, as if he could pick and choose from every word in the whole language just sitting at his disposal, waiting to be properly utilized in the most advantageous ways possible. But with Corvo he couldn't coordinate, he felt awkward, less of a man when the other towered above, gaze so dark and piercing, face twisted into a glare.

And then there was the other part of him, shut away under lock and key, the one that knew why he was so hardened on the outside, had witnessed every scar he'd gotten, from the competition in Karnaca to the slips along rooftops or the metal searing the skin of his chest throughout his months in Coldridge.

It was difficult to start a relationship with someone whom he knew near every tiny, intimate detail about, when the other knew little to nothing about himself.

It was especially difficult to speak without making comments that would assuredly seem malicious. He didn't want that. He just had no other means of communicating, his few years as a child scraping by in Tyvian alleyways, barely escaping death at every corner had taught him near nothing where emotions came into play and these last few months? These months on a ship with Billie Lurk, a woman who's passion translated into how hard she hit, how well she proved herself? She wasn't much better at it either.

Not since Deirdre. It'd gotten even worse after Daud.

He nodded in response to her question, though passively, with no clear expression on his face. She was now a business partner. Nothing more. He would let her know that, he would be firm and strong enough to keep himself contained. He had stared the Void in the face for four thousand years and it had blinked first.

Emily wanted to be exasperated at her father’s protective nature - and honestly, she was, to some extent - but she found herself with a tiny soft smile as she looked down at Corvo on the floor. He was her strength, she was his weakness.

She glanced to the standing clock. Just past 5:30. A bit early, but it wasn’t as though Corvo would be mad at her for waking him. Whether or not she wanted to wake him was another matter. She had to consider the conversation that would inevitably follow. Her eyes flicked briefly to the Outsider, trying to greet his expressionless demeanor with patience instead of pain. She would find a way to make it right. She would. She didn’t want him hurting.

She hesitated there for a moment, looking at her father, her indecision visible -- a rare occurrence. But here, in her own room, this early in the morning, after the most satisfying night of sleep she’d ever had; her guard was down. Examining Corvo’s sleeping face, she imagined the questions he might ask. She wondered how much the Outsider had told him. If he was smart, not quite everything. Had he explained the corruption of the creeping Void? Even now she sensed its presence, though far away and not so vicious as it had been before. The longer she spent around him, the weaker the pull of the Void was.

She could have kissed him for that.

She wouldn’t. A kiss given in gratitude wasn’t what he wanted - at least, she didn’t think so. Still, her lips tingled at the prospect. Her body felt free of the tar-like tendrils of the Void for the first time since - well, since he’d kissed her those months ago. She felt light and airy and as though her vision was suddenly clearer than ever before. A part of her even felt confident that if she needed to she could access the abilities of the Void, too, without being destroyed in the process. She didn’t intend to test the theory.

Emily’s gaze drifted back to the Outsider, her warm eyes clear and bright, untouched by the Void, her judgment unhindered. Instead of buzzing in her head, questions floated calmly, waiting for her to pluck them from her thoughts and vivify them with her tongue.

She kept her voice low, just a hair above a whisper, trying not to wake her father. “Thank you. Truly. I can’t possibly express how grateful I am-” She stopped as Corvo twitched, watching him for a moment, verifying he still slept, before her eyes returned to the Outsider. “...How much does he know?” The question was tentative, curious.

He was unaffected by her voice, only letting his eyes linger on hers and nowhere else. No longer would he indulge temptation. He would bury the desire to study her from afar, with her wild hair and half waking expression, clothing disheveled and wrinkled in some places but form fitting... oh so very form fitting.

By the Void.

When he noticed the twitch in Corvo's features he immediately tensed, slowly shaking his head and turning his gaze away at her question. Too much, is what he was compelled to answer with, but he didn't, lips pursed together in a thin line, eyes dimmer than they were the night before. Perhaps it was a lack of passion, or perhaps a lack of sleep. It was probably both actually.

Physically he was exhausted but his mind was whirling. He had things to write, things to do, things to distract himself with. But he was at least grateful that she'd said thank you, it made him feel just the tiniest bit better about the whole situation.

"Everything," he said simply, which was vague in itself. "We kissed without his blessing, and through selfishness I cursed you," he added, his voice quiet, barely above a whisper. He failed to mention the fact that Corvo probably thought they'd done far more than that.

Probably because he didn't realize that was what Corvo thought.

Because no one told him anything.

Emily’s eyes caught the way he looked at her father, the way he turned away. Something had certainly come to pass between the two of them. And with his words she immediately understood what.

Her eyes widened, mortified. “EV-” Her voice came out far too loud, and she quickly glanced down nervously as she lowered her voice. “Everything?” She couldn’t even focus on her feelings about the rest of his words. Was he completely daft? She felt a blush rising up her chest at the prospect of her father knowing about their… brief intimacy. He tended to assume the worst, to blow things a bit out of proportion, at least when it came to his daughter’s love life. She could remember his lecture to Alexi about her responsibility to the Watch, how she couldn’t let her relationship with Emily affect it in any way -- how he’d gone out of his way to make sure she was never posted alone when she took duty in the tower, even after they’d broken off the affair. Wyman had gotten the same treatment, until Emily had stepped in and brokered a peace. And she could only imagine it was worse with the Outsider than with any previous suitors -- Corvo wasn’t exactly inclined to favor the former deity. And with the strictures - the wanton flesh, and all that - the Outsider didn’t exactly have a pristine reputation.

Emily shook her head. She’d need to iron this out, and quickly. She wondered if she could sneak the Outsider into her safe room without waking Corvo. It would probably be better if he wasn’t there.

Thoughts immediately shifting into problem-solving mode, she performed a quick maneuver with the comb she held, reviewing the rest of his words, until it held her hair back decently well, wedged in a complex knot. She was suddenly slightly irritated. “You don’t need to ask for his blessing.” She tried to keep her voice as a whisper. “That’s just… insulting,” she added with a disapproving look. “I make my own decisions, my father doesn’t speak for me. If it were his way, I’d still be a virgin.” The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them, but then the deed was done. “And I’d never have kissed anyone,” she added, though it was a bit too little too late.

Corvo stirred.

“You should leave,” Emily spoke apologetically, truly feeling bad about cutting him out of the loop, but she knew he’d only serve to distract Corvo, and that would prevent any sort of resolution.

Oliver's thoughts drifted back to the days before the contest in Karnaca, how religious Corvo's mother had been, how so very sweet and loving she was towards him, but how adamant she was about him following those seven guiding strictures, even if she rarely directly enforced them. They were her morals, so he figured in some way, they were also Corvo's.

"It is respect, Emily," he suddenly spoke, standing up. "It is not that he owns you -- despite what you think, not everyone in the Empire is working against you, or actively attempting to sabotage your rights," he scolded, clearly not in a great mood. He stepped past Corvo with near perfect silence, the grace in his step clear even if he were typically on the clumsy side.

"Corvo Attano is a great man who's made sacrifices in his short lifetime that the strongest men in history would shudder at the thought of. To have his blessing would be the greatest of accomplishments. Like it or not you are his daughter and thus he does have some say in your life, and at the very least, a right to his own opinions. Cast aside your petty rebellion for a few moments and you might see things the slightest bit clearer than you had before." He turned the door handle, opening it and glancing back at her. "And perhaps you should show a bit more gratitude to one of the only people in the Empire who genuinely cares about your well-being rather than dismissing him or stepping on him like hardened dirt beneath your polished boots." He shut the door behind him, an unreadable expression on his face. It sounded as though he were warning her, but his tone was chiding, his brows furrowed but not in anger, knitted together in hurt. It did hurt. It felt like regardless of the steps he took, he would always land on eggshells, cracking under his weight, shifting, crumbling. There was no winning with either of them. Tell the truth and they disapproved, lie and they were infuriated, say nothing at all and he was being dismissive. His patience was wearing thin.

Emily’s lips thinned into a taut line as he chided her. She took steady breaths, reminding herself to be patient. He was tired and grumpy. His power came from his words; he would use them to keep himself safe, and to him that meant scolding her. She wasn’t even that mad about his words. He made a decent point, it was just the way he assumed her thought process that was irritating as all hells.

Of course she knew Corvo wasn’t trying to ‘sabotage her rights’ - he loved her. She loved him, of course she did, he was her father and she respected his opinions. But she sometimes had to remind him that she wasn’t a child anymore. If the Outsider thought he might shame her for taking advantage of her father, he obviously hadn’t been paying close attention to their relationship.

Emily respected her father tremendously. He was a great man, and she didn’t need anyone telling her that. She saw it clearly enough. No ‘petty rebellion’ could cloud the pristine (if imperfect) image her father held in her eyes. Everyone who looked on their relationship with scorn, calling him weak-willed or her spoiled, knew nothing. They were the only family they had. No grandparents to help shoulder the burden, no siblings, no aunts, uncles, cousins. Not anymore, anyway. She knew he was strong. Knew he was brave. She loved him more than she could ever love a partner, of that she was sure. She owed him her life a thousand times over. And if the Outsider couldn’t understand that she wouldn’t explain it to him.

She watched the Outsider pout his way out of the room. And he called her childish.

“He’s got a point, you know.” Corvo looked up at her once the door had closed, sitting up, in good humor despite the tense exit of their guest.

She shook her head, wryly. “You know I appreciate you, Father.”

He pulled himself to a standing position, wincing at stiffness left over from sleeping on a crossbow, turning that small bristly smile on his daughter. “Of course I know, Em.” He slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him in a clumsy hug, kissing the top of her head. “But really,” his voice was conspiratorial, “I keep wondering when I’ll get that parade in my honor. Or a statue.” She grinned and pushed him away. “Don’t forget the boat. I need a boat named after me,” he added with a grin, knocking her arm aside and swooping in for a full-on hug, nearly pulling her from the bed.

“Father!” She laughed, knocking him with her shoulder playfully before slipping her arms around him, too. Maybe his little tirade had made her realize one thing: they didn’t hug enough.

With one last quick squeeze she pulled away, adjusting herself until she sat on the edge of the bed, letting out a huff of breath. “Okay. Fun time’s over. We need to talk.”

Corvo nodded, accepting her shift in tone with a determined grimace, the threat of a lecture entering his voice. “Yes we do.”

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