#thatdamnfoolcorvo

[tantibus-aeternam]

👊 //for and-im-a-proxy bc even tho im never on that blog anymore i still like the slenderturn stuff//

Slenderman’s favorite color is mauve.

[healing-sniper-blog]

@thatdamnfoolcorvo

“For now, it does. I see no reason for us to open hostilities, however.”

“We shall see. Perhaps I will have Jack look into you. It may be good knowing your background. Perhaps you can be helpful.”

[healing-sniper-blog]

"I've got you in my sights."

“And I you. But whether my shot will help or hinder you, remains to be seen, does it not?”

[spirit-of-an-exile-archive]

"Have you ever wanted to protect something so much you would fight to your last breath to protect it?"

“That’s why I’m a soldier.”

[spirit-of-an-exile-archive]

“Seems like we’re gonna be stuck on this train for an extra three hours.” (Hello! Hope you don't mind if I just pop in here. oh, and "Not beyond redemption.")

“Great...another huge waste of my time. What’s the problem with it anyway?”

[deiciding]

thatdamnfoolcorvo

“Rotting wood is my specialty, I’m glad you noticed.”

Many had attempted to murder him before and the other had nearly accomplished such, as well. Daud considered himself a rather careful sort, always prepared for some calamity to transpire and always prepared to be the panacea for such an issue. Such came the burdens of leadership, and Corvo’s invasion had been such a calamity. What with the way he had slid through a second time, Daud really thinks that he ought to further train his men into comprehending the prowess of other Marked. He ought to further train his men into discerning a disturbance.

[wolf-of-dunwalla]

“Is this your wallet?”

          The unfamiliar voice which rung out from behind Daud threw him off as much as the lack of weight from his pouch on his belt. He had been successfully pick pocketed, and more importantly someone had managed to sneak past him and had the chance to put a knife to his throat.

         Daud turned to face Attano, a slight loss for words. He knew the man had successfully escaped incarceration- yet the assassin was not expecting to be mocked and spared. “It’s yours now.” 

[deiciding]

❛ brush ❜

; send me ❛ brush ❜ for my character's reaction to your character running their fingers through my character's hair. || Closed!

HE MOVES AWAY INSTINCTIVELY, GLOVED HAND MOVING TO SEIZE HIS WRIST. Gunmetal oculars narrow, for of course he is to be cautious. He knows not of the other's intentions and sha'ant permit him so near. They are similar yet strangers within the same instance, paradoxical entities whose proverbial, dividing lines are their motivations and pasts. Though he sha'ant permit himself to be touched by the other, for he knows not the ramifications of the action nor if the momentary distraction might so be rewarded with a dagger betwixt his ribs. The notion itself is undesirable and the other's wrist is promptly relinquished with his eventually stepping away.

                ❝ I wouldn't do that, Corvo. ❞