ravenswrath | (no subject)

"Seven," he says blandly. "But I didn't expect to need more than that." He looks up to him. "What did you expect, warden? I've seen the people around here. I'm not looking to cause a fight, but I'm not going to sit idly by and be an easy target."

That defensive response gets a dry chuckle. "What, you think I'm gonna take them from you? This ship is stupid, you never know when you're going to need to be armed. 'specially when half of everyone else in the bloody place has magic. I just want a full inventory so I know if you've left one in somebody and they get offended by it."

His shoulders relax almost imperceptibly, and he cups his hand around the heart again. She doesn't talk, but she gives him comfort, even now. "Well, aren't you the pragmatic one?" But at least the smile isn't dangerous. "I have a sword and a bow hidden nearby."

"Good to know." And he means it sincerely, and is entirely unbothered by the reveal. "Just tell me if you ever pick up something else, so I don't have to hear about it from another warden being pissy about you being armed. Some of them are really weird about it."

"Were those really all of your rules?" he asks, not looking up to him again. He does glance to Tiff cautiously, but she's being adorable, so he says nothing about her presence.

"I mean..." He shrugs. "Don't hurt my dog, obviously, or I will kick your ass, but... yeah, that's... kind of it. You're clearly someone who knows what control means, so I don't think I need to threaten you with anything if you get into any more fights, because you're probably going to win them. But I should know what exactly you can do."

He glances to the pup again. "I'm not going to hurt your mutt," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"You saw a little of my skills," he reminds him. "With all the powers the Outsider gave me, I can do more." He holds no illusions that he can defeat anyone he comes across. He has quite a bit of confidence that he can run from any fights he can't win, though.

"I saw you can teleport, which is a pretty impressive trick in and of itself. What else does the Outsider let you do normally?"

He does not hold anything back. He's heard about these files, the information in them, and knows he'll find out sooner or later.

"Normally? Slow time. Control the wind. Control rats. Possess creatures. Possess people." He looks up to his warden and picks a long stalk of grass, plucking it into pieces. "See in the dark. Turn bodies to ash."

He blinks in alarm at the casual listing of such vicious powers.

"Well, you could certainly fuck someone up pretty easily with all that," he comments instead, needing a moment to process it all. "You don't have most of that now, do you? Or you'd have done a lot more than just snap people's necks when you got here."

Vicious powers which, he knows, could have been utilized in a much different way. He could have evolved them much differently. He could have invested his time and energy into - others.

But these were quick. Efficient. And Corvo didn't have time for niceties.

"I can teleport, use the wind, and control animals. Here, in this port, I can summon them at will, so that seems to be a Barge limitation, not an Admiral one."

He stares at the mark on his hand.

His eyes track it too, an eyebrow raising slightly. "Your god marked you, for all that?"

"That's right."

He clenches his fist and lets it fall so he can pick up the grass and pull it apart again.

"He wanted to help me, so he gave me those powers and taught me to use them, yanking me into the Void for it."

"You must've needed some pretty bad help in order to make a deal with a god," he comments wryly. Not judging him, but aware of how that looks. "'specially one who offers those as powers."

And Corvo laughs. It's a bitter, angry sound.

"There was no deal. I went to sleep, woke up in his Void, and he marked me with his powers. I didn't give him anything except the entertainment he apparently needed."

Richter's face softens a bit, but it's not just sympathy; it's understanding, the weight of something so heavy being burdened on you without as much as a by your fucking leave.

"Do you want to keep it? The mark, I mean. We could probably ask the Admiral to get rid of it, if you wanted."

"No," he says. "The powers are useful and the mark is - well, I can't very well not have it when I go back, hm? It would only show that I had some other god interfering in my life. And at least I know the Outsider."

"D'you want your powers back, then? By the sounds of it the Admiral might block some of them anyway-" because gurl that disintegrating bodies one is a lot "-but we can still get most of them, I think."

Another strange question that Corvo hasn't considered, but this one has an almost immediate answer.

"Yes. At full strength, preferably." They've become a part of him by this point, he reasons. Like the weapons, like his clothes. He doesn't feel complete without them.

"I had some of his charms when I came here, too. They don't work, but I gave them up anyway."

"Alright. I'll let the Admiral know when he's not busy."

Easy, just like that.

"Wait, so did you actually need help with something, or did the Outsider just go 'afternoon, squire, here's a knife and some magic bullshit, go have fun'?"

He shrugs. "Hm. It made things significantly less difficult." He tries to think back to all of the little errands he ran, to the missions he did, and he laughs.

"Well, I needed the teleport in the Flooded District. But - other than that, I'm sure it would have been possible. And I don't know if the Outsider can see the future, or just what the probabilities were."

"That doesn't actually answer my question," he points out. He hasn't had a chance to read his file yet, what with the ship being off-limits. "What were you doing before the Outsider decided it was worth benefacting you?"

He stares intently at the grass. "A very long story. I had just escaped from Coldridge. The prison. The Loyalists brought me to The Hounds Pits Pub, where they had their base. They told me that they would help me bring the rightful Empress to power, but I had to find her. I went upstairs to sleep." He gestures out to him.

He gets a curious frown. "And did you get a say in any of that shit, either? Seems like you're being yanked around the place by pretty much everyone and their fucking ponies."

"They had a plan to restore Emily to the throne. To find the person who had killed Empress Jessamine. What other choice did I have?"

He would be dead by the executioner's hand if not for them.