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TEST DRIVE MEME
TEST DRIVE MEME
Considering apping to EACHDRAIDH? Why not give the setting a test run here! OPTIONAL SCENARIOS 01. ARRIVING IN THE DRABWURLD. The Seelie and Unseelie courts welcome you with mirthful revelry and hearty food. After you have been briefed on your purpose here, you will find an endless feast and a night filled with entertainment to placate your concerns. Mingle with new arrivals, sneak down the castle halls and make sure your eyes are always on your glass; fairies and imps have no bias when it comes to tricks! 02. THE STATION. Looking for a little slice of home? The Station gives you all that and more. Take advantage of the wifi, have a cup of fairy-brewed coffee (the one they didn't spit in) or sit back and relax on the patio. You can even move your things into one of the available rooms! 03. WILDCARD. Your own scenario! Explore the Drabwurld or simply take advantage of your Locket! |
asfhad buzzes excitedly
The fainest glow of his Mark, and the world colors just a little more red and shadows fade, and he squints at a glimpse of the man, notes how he moves back with practiced precision. One used to the art of disappearing.
Or not being there at all.
The bone charm? Not entirely useless, and ultimately, something Corvo would want to keep, if only for the sake of the smallest power he draws from it (bitterly, no less). As far as he understood it, bone charms had a small tendency to drive a person mad with the persistent humming and nightmares, tendrils of wet bone dripping against metal, as though swimming in the Outsider's murk.
But this? Was a distraction from the dulling, headache-inducing sweetness of the court at hand. So Corvo proceeds on with no shortcoming of surety, further from the noise, edging closer into less crowded, dimmer hallways.
You want the thing? Come and get it. ]
you have no idea how loud i shrieked at seeing this in my inbox this morning
It's not too difficult to figure out, really- the man is just confident in keeping the prize away from him, and the master thief isn't used to something quite like it. Back home, people scare easily. One sound of shattered glass and the guards jump a mile and look in all the wrong places. It's easy enough to distract them, but this man...
Well, Garrett always does love a challenge.
As Corvo moves down into the hallway, the master thief follows, that right eye of his beginning to glow a bright aqua in the dark, trying to see if there's anything he could use to his advantage. A few spare vases, a bookcase, a chandelier. Things that could be useful, yes, but far too suspicious and more importantly, loud. That is the one thing he wants to avoid at this moment. A ghost is a far better approach than being a predator in this case. After all, this man is orange in his Focus, aware of his presence and alert, but not yet hostile. He's not exactly looking for him either, but Garrett isn't about to just waltz right up and swipe that charm off the stranger.
Not yet, at least.
Things have to be thought through. Decisions have to be placed carefully. His feet step across the carpet quietly, moves like a cat, delicate and careful of where he steps and the noises he makes. Like walking through a room set with birdcages and sleeping birds, he avoids making sudden movement, hand gently reaching to his side, fingers wrapping around the neck of a glass bottle he had brought from home. A raise of that same hand, and he tosses the bottle away, hard, from himself, and away from Corvo, causing the glass to shatter and almost echo in the dulled sound of the celebration behind them both.
Was he aiming for Corvo's head? Certainly not. The Blackjack would do a better job if he wanted to knock the man out. No, this is to divert his attention, as Garrett now swiftly moves in, hand outstretched towards that charm from the shadows, to snatch it away and let the darkness engulf them both as a whole.
Your move, sir Attano.]
oh gosh yes this is an interaction i've always wanted tbh
This was, perhaps, a questionable choice of action, for he knew nothing of the shadow that followed him (just that it did); but a lot of Corvo's choices could be put to question by some more prone to self-reflection as a preferred past-time.
Instead, it was a challenge for both. To him, a test of awareness, of how he adapts to a world so unset from his own, and to the others brought into it. And all for nothing, he was kind of intrigued. Who would win?
Loathe as he would to admit it, without the Outsider's power, trying to pay close attention to Garrett would have been a much more tedious challenge. He couldn't even hear the thief's footfalls. Because where Garrett moves as the master of the art, Corvo's bearing is of a fighter, still, good as he may be at disappearing.
Awareness bristles when the glass shatters in distraction. But even if it takes a few seconds, he knows full well what it was; he's done things like that himself, when a particularly lazy guard wouldn't move from his post for too long.
Red seeps into his world again and out of the very corner of his eye does he catch that aura of a living thing and the Mark glows again, branded sharp lines burning brighter against the creeping shadows and he moves, puts a short distance between them in nothing but a blink, a whisper of blue before pivoting to face him. ]
Almost. [ said as more of an exhale, really; a statement of fact rather than taunt, curious to see what the next move would be. And who it would belong to. ]
sobs garrett is a new muse but oh my god have i wanted to tag a corvo with him *^*
Which only means one thing. Magic. Of course he's decided to go after the man who has magic. Brilliant choice, master thief. Garrett's had enough of that with the Primal already, the one shard he has with him tucked neatly away, not intending to use it for anything at all.
Still, while he isn't one to talk when he's on a job, it's more than obvious that Corvo knows he's there in the dark. He'll give him a little leisure.
Dryly, but amused:]
That's cheating.
[This coming from a thief who has arrows that change the environment to suit his own needs, and an eye that carries magic, which allows him to do so many more things than a normal man should be able to do.
Really Garrett, like you're one to talk.
That still leaves the question of what exactly he should do next. A normal approach obviously isn't going to work, not in this case, not until he changes things to work for him. His eyes scan the hallway and the light that remains around it, and if Corvo moves further down the hall, it will be difficult to remain hidden as Garrett is now. His Focus flicks on once again, and Corvo can probably see the faint glow that his eye emits, looking for something to tip the odds in his favor. And after a moment, he does.
If Corvo uses his sight again, he'll see Garrett take out his compacted bow, extend it, and quietly pull an arrow with a blunted tip to settle between the nocking loop and the arrow rest. He aims it away from his target, above, to something that may not be visible at first, just by a glance. It looks as if he's aiming for the chandelier- but that would be ridiculous, the arrow itself wouldn't be able to knock it down-
And then, the glow in his eye flares, and Garrett's moves become like an echo, arms moving faster than they should and leaving after-images, shadows of darkness swirling as he moves, like the night itself. The world around him slows, a monochromatic moment of pulling back the bow string, the sight of footsteps being somewhere in another part of the hall coming to the corner of his vision, as he aims for the pulley connected to the canopy.
You can either stand and watch, Corvo, or do something about it- otherwise the part of this hall is going to be plunged into darkness.
Lights out in three.
Two.
One.]
u v u i am so glad to oblige! this is a delight ahh corvo is fairly rusty for me tho adsh;;
He wasn't the only one with magic, in whatever form it came, and it's a brief conclusion drawn from the faint iridescent flare of a single eye. He was no particular expert for noticing the Outsider's influences, save for the scratching of the runes or of the purple of his shrines or the madness both of those left behind. ] Is it?
[ This was different, and it takes a considerable degree of control not to draw his blade when the bow is bared, though a single thumb does edge to pass against the folded hilt. Call it instinct of a dishonored bodyguard, or a man who's spent six long months under torture.
But it wasn't a hostile encounter, even as Corvo tenses, watches the arrow draw back in a blur that seems too quick and it leaves his mind nearly ringing to think of his own next move, even as shadows seem to wisp and cling and move around the other.
He's used plenty of the powers the Mark provides already, even with his sight lingering, and stopping time does take a bit of an effort but you know what? Screw it. (And screw the Outsider while he's at it, just because.)
The arrow shoots faster than he anticipates and there's a sharp exhale when its reflex that's causing him to give left, and the Mark flares again and the world slows to a crawl, colours drain to grey and the telltale hum of the Void buzzes against his ears. Even if Garrett might be immune to the Void's direct effects - who knows what magic he holds, how it reacts to such things - his arrow is not. Corvo reaches for it, extends his arm in a stiff stretch before plucking it out of the still air. He had little problem with the dark (call it cheating if you must!!), but it was whatever little damage the blunted arrow might cause to the manor around them. Might want to avoid making those unnaturally happy hosts angry just yet.
Evenly, albeit quickly, he veers to Garrett again in a soft rustle of his long coat, as time shifts and settles and cracks around him (them), eager to return to its habitual beat. ] You really want this old thing that badly?
[ And you know what? He quickly slips it off of his belt, that bone that seemed to have perpetually seeped in the wetness of the sea and extends it in front of him. An offer. It feels odd to him, this gesture of diplomacy. Hardly something he partook it, especially in most recent months. ] Take it.
[ A beat. ] If it gives you nightmares, just find me again.
literally yelling all over good thread best cr this is perfect
The next thing he knows, the arrow is gone, shattered as if it had come into contact yet never reached its target. And Corvo? Corvo is in front of him again, close, as if he was never far away, was simply just there, and always had been.
Hah. Well played. Apparently this man can even manipulate time.
If this were at home, Garrett would have stopped before now, turned back empty handed and willingly. He had so much to lose there, had a reputation and his own hide to consider far more than he does here. But back home, things were more certain, and he knew the City better than anyone else. He knew when he hit his limits. Here, in this land that he has no idea what to make of, it's different. That's not to say he's come here with his morals or his discipline as a thief in any less than he would back at home, but he's allowed his curiosity to guide him here more than any time he's done recently.
But then Corvo actually takes off the charm, and offers it. A move that Garrett is not sure how to take at first. A thief isn't offered gifts, he takes them when the target is unaware and leaves, a symbol of his ability and skill to take something that is not his and leave without a trace. But to be given what he was trying to get, to be willingly handed the prize so easily...
For the first time since their encounter began, Garrett actually steps forward, out of the dark, allowing his target to see him, eye and all. A second passes and he pulls down the cowl from his face, brow furrowing slightly as a gloved hand reaches towards the whale bone charm, as if he is uncertain this is a legitimate offer or not. And as he reaches for it, his eye emits another glow, wisps of smoke rising as if he were on fire, but no harm ever comes to him.
And that is when the Primal screams.
It's a second of time that it comes to him, only a single point where he hears it, but it feels like an eterinity as Erin's voice still resonates in his head and her screams echo back as if the job had happened yesterday.
GARRETT, I'M SLIPPING!!
He winces, unknowingly, as flashes of Erin's face flit through his mind, of faces he doesn't recognize, people he doesn't know, the revolution back home and the vaguest glimpses of white walls, of dirty floors and the distant sound of crying.
It's only a second, but a second is enough. His hand withdraws, mind still a jittery mess, but outwardly already trying to cover his hesitation. Garrett doesn't know if that could have been felt, or seen in such close proximity, but it wasn't a welcomed interruption and it proves that even here, he is still connected to home.
There is a hint of a smirk, and the thief huffs, amused, hand brushing away the offer.]
I'll pass.
[Not because of you, Corvo, but because whatever that charm is, the Primal doesn't like it and Garrett is not about to willingly take it and cause more problems for himself.
Besides, what thief willingly takes something that's offered? If Corvo didn't know any better, that was like a slap to his pride. Something Garrett will easily do without.]
s a m e
But this power was an end to a means. He wouldn't be denying its benefit, as much as he would've liked to, as much as that ambiguous whale god got under his skin, as unsettling as the cold, wet chill of the sea before it swallows you whole.
Corvo watches the other emerge from that habitual cover of darkness and his own look goes to that eye again as he holds the offered trinket steady. Until that eye flares and there's that second's wince that's making Corvo's fingers gently curl around the charm again as it sings its dull whalesong.
Whatever magic this man had, it wasn't the Outsider's; in fact, they seemed to nearly be clashing.
But he knows better than to ask. ] Ah. I see.
[ His tone level, pushes at the slightest brink of unsteady diplomacy (too out of practice, it seems) and as light as it could be for a man like him; infinitely troubled and prone to seriousness.
For propriety's sake, he pretends that the offer goes unaccepted solely because he had cheapened it to an easy gift instead of a prize for a thief, just as the other waves it away. Had he hit a nerve? Surprisingly, it wasn't his intention.
Though it could be said Corvo wasn't at all too good at reading people past the very blatant; strategy, catching a situation about to go awry, simply knowing that something was wrong, sure. That was habitual, an intrinsic reflex from being (and failing as) Lord Protector. But this was also the same man who didn't even catch the betrayal of his so-called allies until he drank their damned poison. Until Samuel had put him on that boat, and until it all came crashing down again. Was he too blinded by how successful each mission had gone? By Emily's safe return? His was an odd balance of perceptive and ignorant.
Though in hindsight, perhaps his pride too would have been hit, were their positions reversed. Nonetheless, there's a small nod, a squint of weary eyes. As curt as his words may sound, he means it well enough. ] Apologies.
[ For ending the game? Or for the supernatural reactions? ]
no subject
Unlike Corvo, betrayal doesn't occur very often for the thief. Mostly because he's a thief, but also because Garrett doesn't trust anyone, save for very specific people. He's survived on his own since he was a boy, and he learned very quickly that if he wanted to make it out alive? Only trust yourself. Work alone. Stick to the shadows and survive for your sake.
When you grow up alone, you grow up strong. No one there to support you.
And no one to hold you back.
It's not hard to follow in a world where people don't care about you. After a while, it becomes second nature. What's even more compelling is how easy they become to read after a while. How they go about their lives with greed, with want, for things they have, for things they cannot have. Studying them, and their motives, is a past-time for him, to the point where he makes people uncomfortable. In turn, he learns how to make himself difficult to read, a mysterious figure who doesn't speak much, but knows more than he ever says. That's how it's always been.
Still, there is a tilt of his head, and Garrett withdraws his arms fully, choosing instead to cross them. An eyebrow raises in intrigue, and he gives a rather amused look before speaking again.]
Garrett.
[His name isn't something to take lightly, as he doesn't give it out unless he wants to- but Corvo has earned his respect at the very least, a difficult thing to do when coming across the master thief, let alone in a first meeting.]
no subject
Corvo wasn't a thief (by profession, anyway), however good he may have been at slipping in and out unnoticed. He had spent his years in a court since he was a youth; he wasn't nobility, or a politician by any stretch of the term, but he was nonetheless forced into etiquette. He was curt, and straight to the point and had good posture, and when the Empress sent her Protector away, to appeal the other Isles during Dunwall's time of need, he only did so because he had to. Because the Royal Spymaster suggested it, and Jessamine agreed and ultimately, you don't say no.
It wasn't a question of trusting the Loyalists, those 'allies' that stabbed him in the back once his use expired. He relied on them and that would be the extent of it; he wished he hadn't. Technically, they were his only option. And they did get him out of jail, supply him with weapons and that mask. Carelessness was his undoing, recklessness and petty hurt after him failing the purpose he was given; after failing his dearest friend and her daughter.
The man's got his fair share of guilt, and he's stupidly lucky to be alive, with a lesson to learn and scars to heal from.
Unlike Garrett, however, he could not survive for his own sake; he would do instead so for vengeance, and for Emily Kaldwin, that little girl who lived through a little too much and who would one day rule as fair empress.
His own expression is an easy one, with a press of his mouth that could be taken as bemused. look this is the most he's talked to someone in a long while ok ] Corvo Attano.
[ wow he is so grateful garrett he's even giving you his in return ] Well played.
[ in turn, master thief, you left quite an impression. ]
no subject
[To receive a compliment from him is rare, the smirk coming with it showing he's impressed. You left a good impression on him, too, Corvo. He won't ever admit to giving it, he's too proud to, but it's there nonetheless.
It's a good thing Basso isn't around, otherwise he'd hound Garrett endlessly for it. Probably try to hire Corvo, too.
There's silence for a moment, and Garrett uncrosses his arms and looks over the other again. Definitely not someone who would stick out, but not a forgettable face, either.
With one foot pulling him back into the shadow, he lets out an amused huff.]
A small tip: Stay on your toes.
[Because they'll meet again. He knows they will. And when they do, it may or may not be just like this encounter, or something entirely different.
You never can really tell, with people such as them.
Garrett's eye flickers briefly, as if to signal a sign of approval somewhere, before he pulls up his cowl and is swallowed by the darkness once more. A second later, and he's gone, a shadow the only memory of him ever being there in the first place.
Until next time, Corvo.]