Your Last Serving Daughter

"There is a man that I know; Seventeen years he never spoke. Guessed he had nothing to say; He opened his mouth on judgement day." Independent Billie Lurk. Unselective. Pre-Knife of Dunwall. Low chaos unless noted.

[idrilka]

I can feel a great age ending.

[whales-and-witchcraft]

headcanon: pretty much everyone reads Thomas’s journal (after he has been away on long assignments there’s practically a queue) but Daud is the only person who doesn’t even try to hide it

[edithdraws]

I havent really been able to draw lately but here’s some lazy sketches I slapped together while watching princestarlord play thru dishonored

[pavux-deactivated20151002]

[wolf-of-dunwalla]

Daud stepped aside so she could enter. He thought for a few seconds, reading Lurks expression- looking for evidence of fatigue on her features. “Do you know how many there are, or their chances of breaking in?” He asked in a casual tone.  The assassin did not underestimate his lieutenant by any means, but he did very much care for Lurk. They had a dangerous occupation and causalities were not uncommon. That did not stop Daud from doing his best to make sure Lurk was as safe as she could be. He was concerned over the weepers advancing up her building during the night, as well as the rat swarms which festered along side plague victims. “Depending on how bad it is, I could dig up an old cot for you and you can rest in my office or the library.” Daud offered. 

[whalerwitch]

        Billie shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

        "Well," she said. "I was going to sleep in  here anyway, but I figured I'd have to share the  floor with the rats. Good to know you think bet- ter of me than that."

        She hadn't  expected Daud to offer at all, if  she was being completely honest. Naturally, she  didn't  doubt that  he cared for  her safety, but  at most  she  had  anticipated  him  to  tolerate  her sleeping in  his office, as  was generally his way. Tolerance with  Daud  was about  as close  as it got to actual displays of affection. Of course, she wasn't going to complain now that he was giving  her a better solution.

        "There  were  more than  three  but  less than twenty. It was hard to tell, having just been  woken up. Transversals are easier  than dark sight  when  you're  half  asleep,  I've  noticed."

[voidleviiathan]

     It could have been laughter, the deep rumble of brewing storms that shook the foundation of the room. Mirroring the sudden tangle of her insides, past her cool facade. Such things could be hidden from men, her mask layers deep and without flaw, but his vision was not so one dimensional. As though she were laid out bare before him, the exposed nerve of an open wound.

      “Worried about witches now, are we?” He speaks now from within the room, a corner off to the side. Or what may be a corner, perception warped by the Void and it’s vessels interference. Swallowed by shadows and smoke which writhes and crept across the flow in a slow crawl. The Outsider was toying with her, that much was apparent. When words come again their source is elsewhere, somewhere up above,  

     “You can’t be blamed, for very few have ever crossed a witch and lived to tell the tale.”

[whalerwitch]

        Only her eyes follow the wandering source of his voice; Billie won’t give the Outsider the satisfaction of seeing her respond any more drastically than that. This display is surely meant to impress her, or intimidate her, or stun her with awe--but the emotion winning out insider her is no less than outright giddiness. Despite the fact that she's clearly being toyed with, despite that she's in the presence of a literal god who could drown her in the middle of this room and never think of her again, the whaler can feel nothing but elated. Finally. After all this time, after all the frustration and worry and outright anger, she's finally coerced the Outsider into giving her the time of day.

        But then she swallows that emotion down, because it's not the kind of landscape she expects will get his attention for very long. Instead Billie smooths her mind out, forcing everything except icy calm to the back of her conscious. It's all still there, like a current under glassy water, but none of it will even be allowed to touch the operating center of her thoughts.

        “Did you think I picked Delilah for her personality?”

[daggersandbonecharms]

Heinrich had been enjoying a brief moment to smoke a cigar, but when  Billie approached him he put it out against the wall.

“I ‘aven’t. Still, I’ll check it out.  Might be trouble, might be some poor gaurd dog tryin’ ta find ‘is weepin’ master.”

[whalerwitch]

        “Let’s hope that’s all it is. Overseers have  gotten too  bold lately; we in  management have been starting  to think something’s up.”  No one had to know that something was a direct result of her scheming--at least not yet. That could wait un- til after she’d made her power play.

[alittleburningwhaler-blog]

A Start || Syd and Billie

whalerwitch

[alittleburningwhaler-blog]

Syd jumped onto the platform, clambering to get a good hold. Sure, he banged up his shins pretty badly in the process, but it beat the unsettling process of Traversal. Nothing like having your body jerked forward so fast that you can barely comprehend what was going on.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening anytime soon. 

Panting, he dragged himself up from the tipping platform and quickly stood to reorient himself. A little dizzy and very tired from his trip, he slipped into the office and perked up at the sight of Billie. 

Now, he hadn’t really met Billie yet. And honestly, he was a little scared to. His shoulders sunk down a little as he stepped closer. “Uh… Hi?”

[whalerwitch]

        “Hi?”

        Billie let the map in her hand drop back to the table so she could assess who it was getting her attention. New, if she had to guess--likely someone she hadn’t even had the pleasure of a name from yet, if he was so nervous to interact with her. The fact that he was panting from what she could only guess was a short trip up the side of the building was only further indicator. Still, she would take new and afraid over old and disdainful any day.

        “You sound more like a little kid than an assassin.”

[wolf-of-dunwalla]

Time during sleepless nights always seemed to move erratically, minutes dragging and hours fleeting. During a rare bout of insomnia like this, Daud often found himself reading as an escape. He sat at his desk, comfortable in the chair which was formed to his body after years of usage with an oil lamp for light and novel in hand. 

But upon hearing the voice Daud hesitated, caught off guard by the tone, fearing it was either the Outsider playing with his mind in some way or a ghost returning to torment him. Those thoughts quickly washed away as he realized who it was.  The assassin placed his book down and took the lantern with him- opening the door to greet Lurk.  “Unusual hour to see you up, what is it, Billie?” 

[whalerwitch]

What could she answer that with? I couldn’t sleep? Billie wasn’t fifteen any more, and  she  wasn’t keen  on endur- ing the teasing that would f ollow words that would come more  aptly  from  a  child’s mouth.  The late hour was no excuse for her not to draw her sarcasm back  up  around her as soon as possible.

        Without  waiting for  an invitation, she stepped into his office, taking in  the way  the familiar jumble of paper- work  and  debris  looked bathed only  in the dim  light of one  lantern  as she  formulated an  adequate response. The  room  seemed  almost  homey  in  the  yellow  light-- less like the base from which an assassin planned  his kills, and more like  the place she’d lived and learned in for the best eight years of her life. She’d  have to be care- ful  none  of t hat  sentimentality  found  its  way into  her words, either.

        “I heard weepers in some of the bottom  floors of  my  building. Figured  I’d wait until morning to take them out--or at least tell you first.”                           

[voidleviiathan]

   Such was common among his followers. Irritation bordered by anger and     desperation. Prayers that went unheard, questions that went unanswered. Fickle as     he was with his appearance, it was a wonder he was prayed to at all. Heretics on their     knees at his shrines clawing for a scrap of his attention, anything to get them through,     but the Outsider’s never been fond of begging.

    Billie doesn’t stoop so low. Bottles it up and lets it shake her bones as she’s spurned.     How often has she stopped herself at shrines. Contemplated ripping at the tapestries.     Smashing the bone into splinters. A petulant child looking to throw a tantrum for attention.     He lingers on the fringes of the world, enough to make the walls creek, threatening their     collapse. Pressurized and stifling, salt under the tongue. No formal appearance, though     the room does darken.

    ❛Do you worry that your god is a vengeful one?❜

[whalerwitch]

        “More like worry some old crone put a hex on the wood.”

        Her blood has suddenly run very cold, but Billie will be damned before she lets that show. Regardless of if the whale god can read her emotions like a declaration, see the triumph and curiosity and fear bubbling up in her chest, she has appearances to maintain, and it’s beneath her to allow anything she’s feeling to rise to the surface. 

        Still, her fingers twitch, and beneath the mask her dark eyes dart around the room, seeking an appearance. Instead the whaler finds a gathering gloom, and the heavy scent of the sea in the air. The room seems to close on her, and she feels very briefly the instinct of a nervous animal begging her to flee before she’s trapped. But this is an audience she might not get again, and she’s not going to waste it running away.

[shadowblinder]

doodlin up some Daud and finding it hard to get his damn face lumpy enough

[jaigeyes]

Dunwall Nine-Nine

…but let’s be honest, this has probably happened at some point

[bitterbrokenbones]

Second prize for my giveaway! raxacorica requested the magnificent Knife of Dunwall himself. Never Daud it.

[whalerwitch]

daggersandbonecharms​ liked for a starter.

        “Hey,” Billie said, striding up to the other whaler. As she walked, she fitted her mask over her head,  and when she stopped her hands were still busy pulling up  her hood. “Someone noticed some hounds wandering  loose a few blocks down.  Haven’t happened  to  see any Overseers, have you?”

[whalerwitch]

voidleviiathan liked for a starter.

        The shrine stood before her, and Billie couldn’t help but consider toppling it. These thoughts, she was sure, didn’t escape the notice of the god who ruled the shrine, but then of course her reasoning couldn’t be beyond him either. Truly, it wouldn’t take the Void to notice how she felt about him--her frustration when faced with this rickety structure of moth-eaten fabric and splintering wood was palpable to anyone who dared enter the room. That was likely why the other whalers had left her to glower.

        Instead of visiting her wrath on the shrine, though, she just lifted the rough disk of whalebone nestled upon it and shoved it into her pocket. In place of shouting or wild questions to the unhearing edifice, she simply muttered a curse.

[whalerwitch]

wolf-of-dunwall​ liked for a starter.

“Daud?”

        Billie called the name quietly through his office  doors,  in the hopes it wouldn’t wake the man if he’d already retired to sleep. It was late into the night, after all. The fact that  light still spilled from his windows was no guarantee that he was  still awake. 

        Of course, it also wouldn’t do for him to hear how horri- bly  genuine  she  sounded.  Perhaps the  hour  would  make Daud  less  perceptive; if  he  did hear  her, maybe  he’d  only notice her voice, and  not the uncommon  lack of dry distance behind it.

        She could hope, at  least. This was still Daud. He  was nothing if not perceptive.

[whalerwitch]

[[ starter call! ]]