I have played many a video game with a silent protagonist, and in my writing I will take mute!Corvo to my grave. REPRESENT! It just seems so fitting so I wanted to stick with it. I also felt like throwing my hat into the ring and experimenting with the Outsider. Gotta love them mysterious characters.
Edited by Keppiehed.
The Outsider's chosen, while few in file, were not all who'd met with him. He'd walked amongst beaches littered with shipwrecks, visited the ailing in their hospitals, met with the tides of society on its terms. Most curious, he'd reflected, were witnessing humanity in its element. But this particular gathering...was new. Different. Only.
'What to call you?' Corvo asked in a rare moment of approach, signing the question despite the redundancy of it. Perhaps force of habit or stubbornness had his hands moving since the Outsider could pluck the thought from the air with little difficulty.
"I have many names, some that mean the same though spoken differently in dialect, and others that serve little purpose. More are older from a time when names had great power," the Outsider explained.
He frowned; Corvo's brows knit tightly together and almost obscured the dark hue of his eyes. 'I mean – what would you have me address you. Preference?'
In that moment, all the Outsider's attention was focused on this one man and nothing else. It was odd that someone did not ask of this being for information without ulterior motive or in trade. And never had someone shown curiosity for the sake of curiosity itself in this Void. Astonishing.
"Whatever you may choose will serve just as well, as it will make no difference. God, Leviathan, Outsider." His head lilted to the side. "Those, at least, agree with the human psyche."
He briefly considered offering another, his First. There were no lies in his talk of names and the command that such sacred rites could hold. The Outsider wondered what this Lord Protector of Dunwall would do with such knowledge: to take advantage or keep it close; would he even realize what he had?
Wonders occur to the Outsider whenever a tipping point has come and gone, and indeed the moment had passed. Corvo nodded, almost obedient in how he so readily accepted this. He did not question whether there was more to this. The Outsider was uncertain whether the result was disappointing or if there was disappointment to be had here at all. He merely catalogued such things away, to be dissected later amongst the scheme of things.