Mostly just messing around, I like the idea of a lonely Outsider being pleasantly surprised when Corvo sticks around. He's still a bastard though. Not my first time writing for this fandom but the first time I take a stab at this iconic duo. Let me know how I did with them, if you have time, thank you!


The type of silence in the Void is completely unique to that world. At first, it was almost suffocating. A constant pressure that could be mistaken for a deafening roar; but the Void had no sound to it, only a consistent, crushing silence that often left one with a massive headache when the awoke from it's grasp. Only when The Outsider speaks does Corvo hear anything beyond his own heartbeat, frail and lonesome against the perverse quiet of dreadful realm. After spending time there, the silence became something akin to a shroud. A heavy blanket of fog that muted everything else and suspended it in dull shades of grey. The Void's taste of silence became a comfort, a moment dropped into limbo that gave a brief respite from the grind of life in Dunwall.

After a time, he sought out the shrines, even when he had no need. Even after there were no more missions to complete, he still sought out those shrines built by the desperate and the foul. He had climbed abandoned buildings and chased glimpses of lights in dark basements, ever watchful for guards and weepers and the biting, clawing swarms of rats. He placed his hands against the wood and stone over and over, gaze fixed on purple tapestry and the lumpy candles, letting the thrum of the runes pulse through his flesh. Every time he did this, he could taste charcoal and copper in the back of his throat. He wondered, idly, as he watched a familiar figure fade into view, if that was what The Outsider tasted like. The vessel and puppet of the Void was a little bit like the silence in his home. He had taken just as long to get used to.

At first, he was a constant weight, a burning, questioning gaze against his back, an unwelcome, vile being who's pointed, vague words always seemed to end in a taunting question Corvo didn't have the answer to. In the same span of time that it took the silence to become a sign of safety, The Outsider's presence had become a bit of a comfort. A welcome figure at the corner of his vision, a smooth voice shaping words into weary weapons. Over time, Corvo had found himself leaning into those cold, long hands instead of away. He chased every lingering touch like a starved hound.

"My dear Corvo," The Outsider didn't smile at him, his arms crossed over his chest and long fingers loosely curled into fists. His voice, usually so sharp and snappy, lacked any real bite. "What a surprise to find you here."

If he didn't know better, he might have called the man who floated above the ground tired. He certainly looked as if fatigue had caught onto his very bones. His face was sullen, mouth turned down in a small, uncomfortable frown; it was an expression Corvo hadn't seen on him before. Even his words sounded weighed down, as if he had been pulled away from something far more important than a single old royal protector, even one who had taken his mark.

"You have Emily back, you've returned to Dunwall Tower and she is to be placed on the throne as the new empress in a matter of days." The Outsider touched down, shiny black shoes squeaking against the rotting wood of the long abandoned building. He turned to regard the half-forgotten shrine in the corner of the room. "You don't need my input on that."

Corvo shrugged, picking his way across the crumbling room to collapse into one of the few remaining chairs. It creaked dangerously beneath his weight, but he ignored it in favor of staring holes into his patron's back.

"You've never needed me, though, did you?" He didn't turn around, but the royal protector noted the nearly undetectable shift and subtle slump of his shoulders.

"...there have been some...close calls." Corvo had to admit, Blink often came in handy when he needed to get somewhere. Or when he needed to ambush a guard. Or get away from the rats. Or just when he needed to get away from all of his responsibilities and the ever questioning politicians of Dunwall tower.

"But before that, you didn't really need it. I know. I watched you, before we met." He turned away from the shrine, but made no move to come closer. At least he was smiling now, though it was a bitter, grim smile that spoke volumes about what he had seen and heard before they had ever met. Not for the first time, Corvo wondered what it took to be a part of the Void like that.

"But I wanted you." Maybe not the best choice of words.

"I'm flattered." The deadpan tone made Corvo wince, and he slid down in his seat - but he didn't look away as The Outsider drew closer, dark eyes smoldering with an emotion he couldn't name. He couldn't even grasp at it. "Is that what called you to my shrine? Does a part of you still want me, my dear Corvo? Does a part of you revel in the chaos you sowed when you used my mark, when you let the Void travel through your veins?"

He scoffed, shaking his head. He stopped just a mere foot away from where Corvo sat, within reach if he stood up. It was all too tempting to reach out, to graze his fingers over that cold face, to seek out any warmth left in that slim, lithe body.

"I don't know." Corvo was speaking without thinking, and the wide eyed surprise on the The Outsider's face made that obvious; it also made him look young enough to feel uncomfortable, and he hastily tried to elaborate on his answer. "I needed air, and I just...came up here. It was like I was following a call I couldn't hear, but my feet followed it all the same."

He hesitated, watching the divine creature standing in front of him.

"And I do want you. But...not for the Void."

"Hmm, don't blame your coming here on me. I was elsewhere - wait. What do you mean you're not here for the Void? What else is there, dear Corvo? The rats?"

Oh he was dense.

"You. The Void isn't the one who insisted on conversation, wasn't the one who gave me hints and actively encouraged me. I think I came here...just to see you." Corvo shrugged, and when he rose up and out of the chair to stand over The Outsider, he felt confident enough to place both hands on the shorter man's narrow shoulders.

"Just...to see me?" The words were spoken in a hushed tone, as if he was afraid speaking any louder would break whatever had settled between them in the last few minutes of suspended time. "Corvo. You don't even know me."

"I know you like music, I know you think Sokolov is both an idiot and a genius, but to you he's boring," The shrug and nod in agreement was almost enough to derail him and make him laugh, "And you also adore whales and the ocean. Sometimes I feel as if you're singing with them, dying with them, every day that I was on the docks and saw the carcass of a whale I felt like you were peering over my shoulder, seething with an anger I can't even begin to understand -"

"The runes I give you are carved from whale bones, ripped from their dying flesh and bewitched with my mark."

"So of course you'd feel for them. And you worried about me and Emily. Rather openly, too."

"I didn't - I don't - why do you suddenly care for what I am or what I think, Corvo?" The Outsider stepped back, away from him, hands twitching - but held stiffly at his sides - and those dark eyes regarded him with a wary, hunted look. For some reason, it reminded him of Daud, right before he'd vanished. Of the Overseers he almost killed but spared at the last minute. Of Emily's face before he took off his mask. It made him breathe in sharply and rub the aching spot between his eyes. The movement made The Outsider tense up, although those black eyes softened at the same time and for a moment, the being almost appeared to look guilty or worried.

"I've always cared. I just didn't...think about it until tonight." That much was true. Corvo had no peers at the pub, no one to talk to about the things he saw on his missions or the vivid dreams he had of floating whales and dreary eyes and swarms of rats. He had only had himself. Until he slept there the first time. When he had first woken up in the Void, where the ruins of the past had crashed headlong into the fires of the present. When The Outsider had first extended his hands and offered the mark. Back then, Corvo hadn't had the time to think about it. Sometimes he had gazed at his hand and let his mind wander, let himself ponder on his situation and those that had caused it. But before tonight, he had given little thought to the being who resided in the Void. Beyond their chats between his missions, the time spent in limbo in crumbling apartments and damp basements, he hadn't taken time to unravel the ball of emotions and feelings until tonight.

So yeah, ok. He had cared all this time, he had always had the urge to reach out to that cold, unmoving face, always wanted to feet cool, pale skin against his.

"You always..." The Outsider was staring, brows drawn down in a confused, contemplative V. In the back of his mind, he found it endearing. "And here I thought you couldn't surprise me any more than you already have. Interesting, as always, Corvo. We'll be in touch."

With that, The Outsider vanished, shoving Corvo back into real time even as he shouted a curse at the abrupt departure. He couldn't stay much longer in the apartment, and glared at the spot where his tormenter had stood. Slimy bastard. He admits to caring about him and then he flees like an Overseer from a group of Whalers.

"Bastard." He spits the word out in the direction of the shrine, even as he pockets the humming, vibrating bone charm he had found there. Somewhere, somehow, he knows this makes The Outsider laugh.