Daud, then, is one of the lucky ones. He woke up the same, if not a little more achey and grouchy than usual, but it was nothing that breakfast and a walk couldn't fix. He had his blade at his side, shoes off and held in his opposite hand. The island is quiet as the sun rises, like it is holding a breath. Daud should be alarmed. He should go somewhere safe, and he should try to get away. He's long ago learned that it is a useless endeavor, and so he does not.
By the time he gets to the gardens to practice with the blade, as is usual and habit, he's catalogued every strange difference. The smell, for one; for him, so used to Dunwall's filth, it's almost sickly-sweet but alluring all the same. He tries not to follow it. He fails. Gold flickers around the edge of his vision, only to coalesce into a limp figure at the base of the hill.
It is, of course, beautiful. Entirely opposite the darkness of the Void, which is a different type of allure he hasn't felt since being dropped here on this island. Instead of walking away-- as he should have-- he instead goes closer. He kneels. His hand brush against silky-smooth feathers, and for a moment, he feels how easy it would be to take a handful, to pull them from the swollen flesh and keep them for himself. But then he thinks of shoving a blade into Empress Jessamine's gut, and the feeling sours. "Hey," he says. "Are you awake?"
[Note! Due to my own squeamishness about bodily autonomy and violating it, I must kindly ask that Daud not actually take any of Judgment's feathers. Luckily, he's a highly-principled assassin-guy so he's pretty darn scary without needing to be a creep like that.]
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HEY I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HLD but i will try my best
Date: 2017-10-01 06:12 pm (UTC)By the time he gets to the gardens to practice with the blade, as is usual and habit, he's catalogued every strange difference. The smell, for one; for him, so used to Dunwall's filth, it's almost sickly-sweet but alluring all the same. He tries not to follow it. He fails. Gold flickers around the edge of his vision, only to coalesce into a limp figure at the base of the hill.
It is, of course, beautiful. Entirely opposite the darkness of the Void, which is a different type of allure he hasn't felt since being dropped here on this island. Instead of walking away-- as he should have-- he instead goes closer. He kneels. His hand brush against silky-smooth feathers, and for a moment, he feels how easy it would be to take a handful, to pull them from the swollen flesh and keep them for himself. But then he thinks of shoving a blade into Empress Jessamine's gut, and the feeling sours.
"Hey," he says. "Are you awake?"
[Note! Due to my own squeamishness about bodily autonomy and violating it, I must kindly ask that Daud not actually take any of Judgment's feathers. Luckily, he's a highly-principled assassin-guy so he's pretty darn scary without needing to be a creep like that.]