blessed through our burdens [open]

[dunwhale]

Daud thought that Corvo sparing him would have been the last of it; after all, what was there for him now? He had Billie's gift of Serkonan ports of call tucked inside of his coat, the slow ache of his healing side, a handful of bone charms in his belt, and...

nothing else, not even his blade. He'd left that at the grave of Jessamine Kaldwin, a useless and soppy gesture he shouldn't have. That the mark pulsed gently on his hand the entire time did nothing to make him feel better. Now, all he wanted was to rest. He should know better than to expect that he'd get anything that he wanted. It appears the Outsider isn't done with him yet.

He bedded down in the cargo of a smuggling ship and woke on the floor of a castle. Half of him wishes that it were Dunwall Tower's and that Corvo's dragged him back, somehow, which is as hopeless and improbable as it is foolish and wishful.

He explored the castle, found it both ironic and unpleasant that it's floating in a void-- curse him, that black-eyed bastard-- and eventually chose one of the offices for himself, seeing that nobody else took it. He tested his powers and found that all of them except for his ability to summon one of his Whalers to him worked. He spent a few minutes in the decrepit throne room and guiltily eyes the abandoned thrones. If the Outsider wanted to tailor-make a prison for him, this certainly fit the bill.

And then he went off in search of the other inhabitants. A castle this large and well-kept (with the exception of some rooms) has to have some.

Comments

[dunwhale]

"And I assume you intend to persevere until I acquiesce?" One of his Whalers-- Vladko, a street kid from Tyvia-- used to gently mock him over his habit of casually speaking like an aristocrat. His winter at the Academy taught him how to fake it well enough, and time rubbing elbows with Dunwall's elite taught him how to wear pretentious elegance like a second skin.

He's doing none of that now, of course. He looks tired and worn, but a certain kind of drily amused over Frisk's admission.

[dustless]

Fancy talk. Sounds like a Chara--and they don't know 'acquiesce', but it's not hard to work out that it means something like 'accept'.



"...I won't make you if you really don't wanna be. But there's...no reason to not be. Friends."

[dunwhale]

"Fair enough." He's charmed, to say the least, if not entirely won over. Give it time, Frisk. He sticks his hands in his pockets instead of clasped behind his back and it helps him look less prickly and more welcoming. Not by much, but a good enough telegraph that he isn't going to reject Frisk's offer.

"...now, I am going to explore this castle. And hopefully find some explanation."

[dustless]

Not bad. Not at all. Frisk's dealt with much worse levels of stonewalling before.

"Okay. Tell us if you find anything," they say, resisting the urge to immediately protest and take the lead and guide him like they offered before. Maybe he needs a touch of space to think about it.

After all, they've got nothing but time.