Failed the Stealth Mission (Dishonored)

[Deadsh0t]

Soooo... I may have written a fic about my favourite video game, Dishonored. I have the biggest crush ever on the game's protagonist, Royal Protector-turned-assassin, Corvo Attano. Seriously, if you haven't played this game, I'd recommend it as it's awesome.

Anyway, this fic is really bad and stuff as it's really just gratuitously appealing to my own particular kinks without any actual plot, although I did include some little headcanons about the runes. Hope you guys enjoy. Any feedback/criticism is of course welcome. <3

Failed the Stealth Mission

The Loyalists had been quite firmly specific when they requested Corvo bring back the target alive. Assassination was easy; targets marked for death could be eliminated with stealth from afar with a well-placed crossbow bolt, bur dragging back a captive was a far more delicate task. His target was Anton Sokolov, Royal Physician and inventor of the Elixir praised as a preventative medicine against the dreaded Rat Plague sweeping the city. But it was not for Sokolov’s ingenuity that he was wanted by the Loyalists, but rather because their leader, Havelock, believed that the Royal Physician might possess information regarding the identity and whereabouts of the former mistress of the Lord Regent as he was rumoured to have once painted her. Why Havelock didn’t just send Corvo to strike the Lord Regent down already was something he didn’t quite comprehend. Perhaps they sought to send their enemy a message by turning his former allies against him. Although Havelock hardly seemed like the cautious type, Corvo mused to himself as he soundlessly transversed from rooftop to rooftop, his form seeming to shatter into swirling darkness only to appear several metres away on a narrow window ledge, the mark of the Outsider branded into the back of his hand seething hot white.

Corvo tensed as he heard voices beneath him, growing louder and accompanied by heavy booted footsteps that could only belong to the uniformed feet of City Watchmen ascending the stairs leading to the room behind the window, the ledge of which he was crouched upon. The Royal Protector took a moment to assess his next move, and seized the opportunity to transverse from the ledge through the open window opposite, landing in a low crouch upon the bare floorboards of the abandoned apartment. He looked around, surveying his surroundings with keen assassin’s eyes through the glassy gaze of the metal skeletal-looking mask he always wore on missions. The apartment was dusty and derelict, its previous occupant likely taken by the plague. The wallpaper was peeling, damp and peppered with mould, the furniture coated in a thin layer of grime. Corvo tilted his head, honed killer’s hearing picking up on a faint ethereal singing sound. It was a noise he’d come to know well; the hum emitted by the mysterious runes of power carved into the bones of whales. Many people kept them In their homes or on their person as mere good luck charms, unaware of their real potential for power. For those gifted with the Outsider’s mark, the runes could amplify their abilities considerably. The only trick was finding them, as that ever persistent hum seemed to resonate through the entirety of the room.

Corvo reached for a scratched wooden box left forgotten upon the mantelpiece and opened it, a coating of dust sliding off of the surface and dispersing into the air. He cringed as he took a breath, feeling the dust particles brushing against the inside of his nose, despite the thick metal mask shielding his face. He sniffed forcefully in an attempt to soothe the building itch but it was to no avail. The rune wasn’t even inside the box anyway; there was nothing but a few old coins. Placing the box back on the hearth, he closed his eyes, trying to focus in on the sound of the rune ‘singing’, although this was proving to be difficult considering the insatiable itch in his nose. He pulled his mask up to rest atop his head, pinning back the strands of dark hair that often fell into his face, so that he might rub his straight, angular nose on the back of his hand. Taking another irritated sniff, which served only to make his breath hitch, he crossed the room, inspecting a painting of a young, regally dressed man on the wall opposite the hearth in an attempt to distract himself. He noticed the ethereal hum grow louder as he fought determinedly against the rising urge to sneeze, knowing that any sound he makes could alert anyone in the floors or street below to his presence.

With extreme caution, breath giving the occasional shuddering hitch, Corvo lifted the painting from the wall, sending yet another cloud of dust scattering. The rune rested in a small hollow in the wall that had been concealed by the painting, but the assassin was far too distracted to reach for it, nose twitching frantically.

“Hah… eh… Tchhh” he stifled the sneeze with the hand not clutching his sword, but it did absolutely nothing to soothe the burning itch. Cursing to himself and sniffling, he reached for the rune, sliding it into the pocket of his dark coat as his breath stuttered in preparation for another sneeze, the tingling in his sinuses proving an unrelenting assailant.

“Eh…hah…” he growled through clenched teeth, eyelids fluttering as he tried to resist. “Nxxgt! Tsch! Nnkghh! Hah-…Heh'gnntt!” He gasped for air like a drowning man whose head just broke the surface of a lake as the tickle intensified, the stifled sneezes doing nothing to relieve it. “Heh’Tsssh! Isshh! Hah’ascch! Eeh…Hitschoo!” he sneezed forcefully, shivers running down his spine at the sensation of release.

“Th’fuck was that?” he heard a voice in the next room and froze, pulling his mask back down over his face and raising his blade defensively.

[Slash2347]

Such a good game and fiction! :3

[Deadsh0t]

Such a good game and fiction! :3

Oh my gosh thank you so much ^^