DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dishonored nor its content. I only own Katya. All characters are represented to the best of my ability. WARNING: Semi-Mary-Sue and we got some Lime action! :3 Also, if you're anti-peppy like some of my co-workers, this story is not for you. I'm reliving my gameplay and I tend to say some stupid stuff when I'm playing.

Now that you know what you're expecting, go off! Fly, my pretties!

EDIT: Thank you so much for the critical reviews and I hope this chapter revision is a lot better than the last!)


Prologue

Since the dawn of time stories have been told and heard as a means of entertainment or information. These stories, purely from word of mouth, often evolved from the original plot so much that they became exaggerations whose truth was lost long ago in a distracted thought or a forgotten instance. The stories became so outrageous and far from the truth that it created a new story completely. Sometimes this was by accident. Other times intentional.

Now.. Let me tell you of a story.. And I'll let you decide...

"Hoist anchor!" a rather strongly built man yells from the side of a massive ship as a smaller boat motors away from below. The giant ship carries an equally enormous whale whose abdomen is split open by the sharpened knives that cut him; his insides pouring out onto the deck below. On board the ship, people busy themselves to collect the luminescent liquids that bleed from the bellowing giant beast. They wear industrial gas masks as they handle the precious liquid, quickly collecting as much as they could as the dying whale excretes it, dying just as slow as the draining liquid.

In the leaving boat below, a woman stands towards the sight with mournful eyes, feeling sorrow for the giant beast as it slowly and painfully inches towards its death. The little ant-like men below spoiling themselves with its essence that kept this majestic beast alive and she would imagine that the last drop of the precious creature will also be its last moment of life. She closed her eyes and silently prayed for the beast.

"Come, Patricia, sit down and look at the whale no more," a man motions to her, wishing to see her rid of her sadness. "This is supposed to be a festive occasion. We mustn't busy ourselves with outside trivial events."

She sits beside him on the boat's more luxurious cushioned seat and puts a hand on his. "But, dear. The poor whale... It's still alive. He must be in an awful amount of pain," she speculates.

"Oh?" He turns towards the fleeting site behind them. "Doesn't sound much like he's in any pain, dear." He smiles to her and shrugs it off as the whale becomes silent.

She pouts and sighs, resting her head and other hand on his chest. "Fine, my love... I'll enjoy the rest of the trip..." She looked forward towards their destination, vowing not to look back at the sight. No matter what.

The life of an aristocrat is never as easy as many people take it to be, although it is admittedly a lot easier and rewarding than most. However, there is one downfall to being an aristocrat...

A gloved hand quietly reaches up from the water towards the port quarter, stealthily pulling up a blue cloaked figure with an identical dark mask to that of the ant-like people in the whale ship, however there is something a bit different with these masks. The boat's crew is distracted by the sight before them, letting the past go and not daring to look at the gloom behind them, unaware of what was to come.

Another hand comes from the starboard quarter just as the first figure pulls himself up and took hold of the poor boatman who didn't stand a chance, his throat sliced as silently as they came. The body is then slid overboard silently and swiftly, the slight splash being hidden by the noise of the boat's motor tearing through the waves. A second figure, identical to the first in looks, grabs the tiller from the surprised man who is instantaneously stabbed in the neck by the first assailant who covered his mouth. He was also quickly yet silently slid overboard by use of the back of the second assailant to silence the dive into the water.

The attention is now on the remaining passengers, the aristocrat, the wife and a city watch guard. As the second assailant pulls himself onto the boat as silently as the first, the first one aims a fist towards the city watch guard. A loud clink came from the launcher in his arm that fires a bolt right into the back of the guard's head.

A quick scream by the wife ceased as the body falls into the water and she turns towards the noise, holding onto her husband tightly while she stares into the assassin's blade.

"Wh-what do you want?!" the aristocrat yells in terror, gripping his wife.

The first assailant stares at them with his blade towards them as the second one sat at the tiller, squatting down at ease as he watches his companion hold them.

"Montgomery Torvault... Looks like we've finally found you..." he speaks with an eerily calm voice, muffled by their masks. "You can imagine how angry our employer, Lord Crenshaw, was after you bested him last week."

"C-Crenshaw..." Torvault trails off. He looks down in realization. "So... You must be... Daud's assassins..." he says grimly. The first Whaler raises his blade, preparing to slice Torvault and reap their rewards. "Wait! P-Please! Whatever that damned Crenshaw is paying you... I'll double it!"

The whaler took aim.

"Triple it! P-please! N-!" There is a brisk moment of silence as blood splatters from the precisely quick slice.

It is almost as of it were all slow motion to her, a flash of light that glistens from the blade blinds her just in time to not see her husband decapitated and she barely had enough time to scream as she is misted by the mixture of salt water and blood. She tries her best to scream but she finds that no noise came out. She is petrified of the fear of the inevitable. The Whaler turns his giant round white eyes to her and she could see her blood stained reflection on his splattered mask. That's when she realizes that her own throat had been slit just as quick as her husband's and feels herself begin to fall.

She stares into the eyes of her killers with confusion, blacking out slowly and wheezing from the blood that floods her lungs. She falls over with a plop onto the lap of her beloved.

"I thought we agreed to spare the wife..." The second Whaler sighs, shaking his head.

"I thought we agreed the last piece of Tyvian chocolate was mine. I suppose we were both mistaken," a muffled feminine voice came from the first Whaler.

"Ugh... Not this again..." the second Whaler groans.

"Yuuup!" the first Whaler says as she searches through Torvault's pockets. "Aww.. Look at the cute little couple..." she speculates at the positioning of the corpses in amusement. She quickly throws the woman's body overboard and holds her head under her arm like a playing ball.

The second Whaler shakes his head. "And what exactly what that whole introduction about? That is not what we were trained. We finish them quickly and silent-" he began to question her.

"I decided to try and spice things up! Besides, I love seeing the fear in their eyes as they beg for their lives!" she giggles in amusement of the idea of mental torture.

"You cannot go improvising things if Daud did not specifically ask you to.. Do you kno-" he tries to argue.

"Oh, pah! I have fun with my life. What do you do with yours?" she quickly replies with no intention of hearing an answer, still rummaging through the dead man's clothing.

"Why do I always get paired up with you..?"

"Because... One, we always have to have a buddy, buddy... And two..." she turns towards her partner, holding up a small cameo. "Because I get the job done nice and quick," she says as she clenches it in her glove.

He stares at her quietly as she stands triumphantly in the pose. After a moment, he quickly halted the boat, catching his partner off guard and sending her flying forward into the water.

She make a sharp yelp as she fell into the sea, resurfacing quickly to find her partner gone.

"GAH! My new bride's head! You've made me drop it!" She curses him and in a moments instance, she disappears, as if quickly disintegrating with a quick 'fwip' sound.