Fandom Street Rats

[Punkie]

Closed 1x1 Between myself and Patchface . Please do not post.

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Dark skies, rainy night.
For those who resided in Dunwall, it was the perfect night for staying inside, lighting a fire, and getting cozy. No one wanted to be out at this hour, if not only for the cold but also the unknown dangers that the area could bring. The city was gritty and dangerous, and those who were outside questioned every shadow that they saw from the corners of their eyes. No one purposefully hung around, and if something unusual was out, no one stopped to check what it was.

On this particular night, the unusual sight was 10 year old Elizabeth. It was ... day six, if she remembered correctly, that she had been out on these streets by herself. Her part of town was rough - those who lived there didn't have much money for themselves as an individual, let alone extra money to provide for someone else like a child. This was what happened to her in particular; an accidental pregnancy, one that led to an abusive mother for some years, before recently passing off the child to the father, and a father unable to afford the costs to support a child. Maybe he wasn't a terrible man, Elizabeth didn't like to think so, but he decided his only option was to take a bit of a drive to the edge of town and drop her off, unable to think of really any other way he could make the both of them survive.

So, she was left, never given a chance to start, never given a chance at a family, and wandered on her own for some time now. Food was hard to come by unless stolen, which she wasn't particularly good at yet. Winter was nearing, which was particularly bad for Dunwall, so every night became colder for her, and she really had no options of what to do next. For now, it was just surviving day by day, and she didn't know how many more of those days she would have left.

Nights were the hardest - they were cold, dark, sometimes rainy, and always terrifying. Elizabeth always needed to find places to hide, and try to stay warm, in order to hopefully not be seen by anyone out at this hour. So far, she had been fairly lucky, but it seemed like luck only lasted so long for her out here. She found herself a small corner in an alleyway to curl up in, but soon enough heard footsteps nearing by.

She held her breath. A shadow was making it's way to the entrance of the alleyway, and she kept as still as possible, hoping that whoever was walking by was just on their way home, and wouldn't pay any mind to look down an alleyway. This wasn't the case for her, as the person walked by and did a double take down the alleyway at the child. He paused, a slick grin forming on his face, and turned to slowly walk toward her. She felt her breath hitch with fear, but didn't speak.

"Well, look what we have here, ah? A little street rat, sleeping by the garbage... why are you all by yourself, love?" His tone was soft, but it held a certain diabolical feeling that Elizabeth couldn't shake off - he wasn't someone to be trusted, and everything in her was screaming to get away from him.

"It's cold... you shouldn't be out here. If you come with me, I can take you to a nice, warm house with lots of food, and a safe place to sleep... what do you think?" He asked a he neared the end of the alleyway, watching her closely. Elizabeth stayed silent, watching him carefully. Her eyes darted to the sides as she calculated the possibility of her bolting away from him without him noticing. However, he noticed where her eyes were looking, and as soon as she got up and tried to run passed him, he was ready and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her back.

"It's very rude of you to not accept a kind offer when it's handed to you on a platter, you filthy brat." He practically spat the words at her, his soft demeanor now completely vanished. Now is when she figured it was time to give up. She gave one last attempt to escape by trying to pull away from his grip, but it didn't work, and she felt hot tears forming in her eyes. "Please," She whispered, nearly inaudible. "I don't want to go with you..." But he merely laughed in her face. "I don't care what you want, you'll be coming with me."

 

[Patchface]

“A scheming beggar”, the Overseer bursted out laughing. He grabbed the wrist of the young man, forcing him to imitate a pose of victory, and spoke in a rough but kindly voice: “Look, citizens of Dunwall. I’m the hero you’ve longed for. I’m going to take from the rich and give to the poor. Justice incarnated!” Laughter started flowing in the rain and eyes began dancing around the imperial pose of the Overseer and the fellow he caught red-handed. “Your voice is completely off”, a spectator complained, shaking his head. “Shut up, Dastan. No one needs your witty ass out here. You’re selling whale oil, not jewelry”, the Overseer responded harshly, tightening his grip on the man’s arm he took control of. “Careful, you’re losing your temper. And you know what that means”, Dastan replied in a tone of mockery, reestablishing the respect among his peers who were standing next to him, forming a small crowd of merchants and soldiers. “Campbell will love to hear how you sabotaged the delivery of a whole ship, fully stacked with oil. How you’ve persuaded the captain into thinking he could make a fortune by betraying the Abbey.” “That is on your quote on quote hero you’ve longed for, not on me. I think you’re going to sleep well tonight with him in mind.” This time it wasn’t the Overseer laughing, but all of the men in his sight jeering. With a glimpse of nausea creeping into his head, the Overseer felt that his face was turning red. In his anger he almost started cracking the bones of this prey, though a squeaky scream stopped him in his tracks. He certainly was off protocol by now, so what did it matter anyway. “High crimes and misdemeanors, right? Isn’t it?” The feet of the Overseer jerked forward, startling Dastan’s gaze. “You sentenced him to death by leading him up to this alley. Shouldn’t be much of problem exercising your power now.” A wicked smile scurried over his lips. He pushed the young man in front of a set of cracked stone plates, letting him trip on the wet mud; concerned looks from the crowd pointed at him. “Worried much?”, the Overseer added, slowly regaining his confidence, looking at the squirming man in the mud without pity. “This is unjust, he is just a boy. Not the man we are searching for”, Dastan started to negotiate, but the Overseer interrupted him: “Don’t kid yourself, you are responsible for this mess. Clean it up!” His blood stopped boiling and he felt the sense of control he missed just ten seconds ago.

The last raindrops had hit the dirty road. Then the sky had cleared up on a fast pace, revealing the moon and all the stars, glistening above the city. It was a peaceful night. The tall arcades were casting their shadows, and the wind was brushing through the railings of a couple of narrow alley straight ahead of the events, which were unfolding in the midst of a crisis. For almost a week there were severe shortages in the supply of whale oil. Some of it was due to bad weather conditions, some through the means of usual corruption and some casualties accruing in the fights on the streets. However, one of the major trade ships changed its route and was now no longer passing the old waterfront as planned. One could say it vanished, even though no Loyalist would admit that a mistake of this magnitude was possible.

“Getting nervous, Dastan?”, the guile voice of the Overseer creeped back into the soft sound barrier of white noise brought by the rising winds. “You need help shaking off that picture of the boy caressing you after your defense of his against the law?”, said the Overseer, mocking Dastan with a great sense of satisfaction. The wind in his back turned and so did the mood of the crowd. Some were unsure what to make of the situation. An Overseer going out of his way, unleashing his wrath upon citizens without a sentence. Others nodded and were grinning at the focused eyes of the Overseer with admiration. The power was gathering in his fists and he had to resist the urge to leap forward to punch the pathetic creature laying on the muddy floor. The humiliation was receding and his thoughts were able to reorganize themselves. I’m going to take this case to Campbell personally. All of the evidence points towards Dastan and his goons and thugs. He’s plotting, taking advantage of every misstep of mine. I have to get rid of him immediately. No more procrastination. The Overseer’s smile formed with pride and a restored feeling of dignity. Like this night, it was just a disturbance, no alteration of destiny or a failure on his part. He had nothing to loose. One day, he would rule all of Dunwall. And as his mind was spinning into fantasy even the cold truth of his demise couldn’t pull him back to earth. The steel of a blade cutting through his neck, nothing more than a greeting of a good old friend.

Silence. Daud pulled out the sword, moved one step backwards and watched at the Overseer’s body collapsing, falling in the muddy water beneath him making a splash. The young man in the mud, now more courageous than before, got back up and asked: “What about the eyewitnesses?” “Goons and thugs”, said Daud with a cunning smile, releasing the last bit of pressure from the face of the ally in front of him. “Indeed, a valuable lesson”, added the young man with a sense of pleasure, “thanks, Dastan.” “Let’s wrap this up. The tavern closes soon.”

 

[Punkie]

The man pulled her along through the shadows, the evil grin still spread across his face. He seemed almost giddy, pleased he had found such an easy target, and this late at night, it was impossible that anyone would see him. Still, Elizabeth tried pulling away, but the man had started ignoring her attempts completely, his grip on her tight as iron and unwilling to let go.

Elizabeth thought to herself that this was the end. This man was going to kill her, and if he didn't, there were most certainly awful things to come for her whenever they arrived at his house. She didn't even want to imagine it - she'd heard many stories of what happened to homeless children in Dunwall, and now came to the horrid realization that she was going to be one of them.

As they walked, someone ran by with a terrible expression on their face, stopping by the man and the child.

"There's been a murder in the square! Stay away, there's a killer on the loose!" He said in a panicked tone before rushing away. There were others that seemed to be making there way away from the direction of the square in a hurried manner, which made the wicked man laugh to himself. He realized that not only would cutting through the Square be a shortcut to his home, but with all the people moving away from there as quickly as possible, no one would bat an eye at a man and his struggling child rushing away. They'd assume it was a father and his daughter, who was troubled after witnessing a murder. Looking down at Elizabeth, he paused for a moment. "Ah, sounds like a shortcut to me!" He said before continuing to rush off.

Elizabeth felt even more terrified now. Not only was she being kidnapped to who knows where, where she would meet in inevitable awful ending, but now they were going to pass an area where there was an alleged dead body, near an area that there was a killer on the loose. Everything just seemed to be falling into place with bad luck on her side, she decided. Hot tears continued to fall down her face.

When they reached the Square, there was indeed a dead body - that of the overseer, who lay silent on the ground. Some people were standing amongst themselves talking in an urgent, worried matter, and others were running away. She watched them with consideration for a moment, and decided there was one last chance she could have in order to try and escape from the wicked man. She waited for someone who was running away, one who was close enough to hear, and she let out a nearly silent plea.

"Please... help me." She cried out. The person in turn didn't hear her, or at least didn't care to help, as they continued running away in an urgent manner. They didn't even bother to look back at the two of them. Her plea didn't go unheard, however, as the wicked man stopped dead in his tracks and faced the girl. "Are you asking people or help?!" He spat the words at her. Elizabeth noticed he wasn't smiling anymore. Then, right there in the middle of the Square, he raised his hand up and struck her harshly, not really holding back. It stung greatly, and suddenly she felt the tears coming back, though she tried to swallow any sobs that threatened to come out. "You will be silent, you filthy rat!" He yelled at her.

And she decided that she would from that point on, be silent.

 

[Patchface]

Daud’s calm demeanour was a blessing. He was worried more than once that he might slip up and ruin the whole operation. The intervention, the chase, the enraged Overseer… nothing did disturb him. Acting like an actor and a narrator of the mission at the same time. As if he didn’t belong… like an outsider. Daud shook his head, igniting the uneasy idea that he was capable of reading the minds of his surroundings. “My last payments unwinded under a lot of scrutiny. We have to turn to the black market again to make sure that we stay invisible”, Daud explained, “However, first and foremost, we need to support Rothwild’s influence. Stealing ships does lead to nothing if there is no one left filling them up.” “Drawing attention to the murder of an Overseer will do that?”, the young man asked while both stayed at a low profile and kept striding through the alleys. “It won’t, but each time an Overseer gets killed the administration is obliged to rewrite watchmen orders. We simply tap into communications and spot irregularities in the process.” “So much so that we can instigate distress for Rothwilds enemies?”, the young man kept asking curiously. “Keep your voice down”, Daud warns him, “you’re a bright lad, Jevis. Private lessons are out of the ordinary, so I would appreciate if you could keep your head down and respect orders. I recognize your ambition, but you are still hot blooded. You have to integrate.” Jevis nodded quickly and answered: “Should we meet tomorrow at 9?” “Yes”, Daud confirmed, pointing his index finger at the end of the street, “the tavern is still open for late visitors. We should check if the others were successful aswell.”

Entering the tavern, Jevis noted a distinct sweet smell that left an oddly foul taste in his mouth. This place was barely alive. Petroleum bottles were shimmering in the dusty air and only a handful of customers were sitting in the darkest corners of the room. Without any appreciation or reaction to the sudden change of atmosphere, Daud went straight ahead and greeted three people sitting at one table close to the entrance door. Jevis followed him and shook hands. “Jevis, these here are: Billie, Semyonovich and Artor. The most trustworthy Whalers in all of Dunwall”, Daud said to introduce Jevis to the group. Two men, one woman. “Trustworthy is not part of our brand”, Artor complained angrily. “Of course it’s not”, Billie added, visibly annoyed by the lack of charm and humor on Artors part. “It’s done?”, Daud intervened. Semyonovich handed him a bundle of keys without uttering a sound and Daud took the bundle to put it into his pocket. “Don’t crack jokes like this”, Artor reverberated his thoughts, “so much distress is not a laughing matter.” “What’s up with Rothwild?”, Daud asked Semyonovich, but Artor kept muttering along, raising his voice: “Murdering for a few barrels of oil. We are a band of pathetic lunatics. Whale oil, whale oil, it’s always about whale oil. That shit stinks and pushes everybody into poverty.” “Shut up, stupid”, Billie tried to break the spell Artor was using to enchant himself in a maze of regret and disgust, but Artor wouldn’t listen: “We can’t keep going like this. Everything will fall apart. More deaths, more injustice, more sickness. We have to break the cycle of despair in this cursed city.” “Shut the fuck up, dimwit. You know perfectly well why we are here”, Billie interrupted him again, but Artor didn’t deteriorate: “Simply meeting in this god forsaken place calls for destruction. On my way here, I saw this girl. Probably 8 or 9 years old, not much more. Big eyes, wide open, utterly terrified, getting dragged along by some shady figure. We are losing ground. While cutting off heads of the hydra, people suffer immensely.” “And they will suffer even more, if Campbell gets his will”, Billie concluded to stop Artor from rambling incoherently any further. A short moment of silence was bestowed upon them. Jevis didn’t dare to speak. Hence, Daud’s voice unraveled Artor’s eclipse: “There is even more at stake. We…”

A loud noise hit everyone in the tavern like a battering ram. The vibration of the furniture started building large clouds of dust, engulfing the whole room in a sphere of distorted air. Jevis instinctively jumped out of his seat, shocked by the unexpected surprise of an explosion, and responded in awe: “Whale oil?”

 

[Punkie]

When the whale oil sounded off, it was heard by even Elizabeth and the wicked man. Elizabeth, who had been keeping her head down in silence at this point, was now attentive to what was going on, more fear in her eyes from the explosion. She wasn't able to figure out what it was, and in a time like this, a large explosion in the distance didn't really help alleviate her fears.

The wicked man froze for a moment, his eyes drifting in the direction of the explosion himself. She took note that he seemed to be thinking, considering something. He seemed like a sort of crazed ma his eyes darting back and forth as if he were considering his options. He was desperate to get home with this child, and with how log it was taking him to get home, Elizabeth could see that it was because he lived farther away than she first though, and he knew that the more time it took to get home, the more risk there was.

Then he started laughing uneasily, looking back at the child in his clutch. "Another distraction perhaps? Explosions usually draw people away, I'd say! No one would mind seeing someone running off with their child!" He said as he headed toward the direction of the explosion.

However, when they arrived, the wicked man learned something new that day. Human nature was a funny thing - if it were a murder, people ran away in terror of their own lives, but if it were any other scenario of distraction, people gathers around with curiosity to find out what it was. Many nosy people were gathering toward the area where the explosion was to see what had happened, and by the time that the wicked man realized what was happening, it was too late. He was now lost in the people, and trying to get out would entail him having to fight against the crowd. His expression was becoming more and more anxious, but he still decided to go with it, slowly making his way though the crowd.

 

[Patchface]

Dashing forward, it took his second-in-command only a few seconds to vanish out of sight. Daud stopped and recollected his train of thought. Slaughterhouse row, for god’s sake. Am I already running out of luck? Rothwild wouldn’t pay close attention to the explosion. Though any reinforcements brought in from the distillery district could turn out to be a major problem.

Black smoke was rising above the roofs of the city. Like clouds, draining light out of the sky. As soon as Daud arrived at the scene, a sizeable crowd had formed, giving firefighters a hard time getting rid of the smoldering flames. It was one of the houses at the riverside, missing almost all of its southern facade. The conflicting noises were hectic, nervous and distorted by occasional screams of pain. Daud eyed the Overseers. Six. Two wolfhounds. No reinforcements in sight. It was a risky plan, but his best bet at this point.

Daud blinked and found himself to be a part of the growing crowd. He put his hand on one of the loud protesters who was cursing and shouting at the officials and spoke clearly: “I’ve seen one of Rothwild goons taking off just five minutes ago. He was in a panic, there is more going on here.” The man frowned at him and pushed him aside: “Get lost scum, this is the fault of greedy merchants squeezing every cent of profit out of us ordinary workers. They even burn down our houses.” “I’m telling you, he was in fear. I’ve never seen a roughneck like this”, Daud tried to convince the mountain of muscles in front of him, altering his voice to sound less appeasing. The man second-guessed himself and spat at Daud: “Where?” “Down this road”, Daud pointed to the direction he was coming from. The man gave a look to his peers, puffing angrily. A few moments later a group of men turned their back on the demolished house, like a slice of pizza being dragged off the plate, leaving a curious eye of one of the Overseers behind. Daud repeated the process, therefore dispersing the crowd one step at the time. He felt every glance of an Overseer in his back and almost didn’t dare to look back up at the destroyed building. His mind became so focused on preserving his invisibility that he didn’t even notice when a man started punching back at him. Why did he punch he? Did I start? What did I say? Irritated, Daud dodged a horribly miscalculated swing of the smirking man whose fist tried desperately to get ready for a serious attack. This is bad, really bad. One of the Overseers was getting ready for an intervention in their pathetic brawl, a wolfhound following him. Daud had lost his cool, he had to run. Now.

The wolfhound was the problem, not the Overseer. As soon as he lost eye contact, he blinked into a nearby apartment. Taking the staircase he rushed up the building, taking two stairs at a time, reaching the top before he could even make up his mind. Carefully he started tracking the movements of his pursuers by looking down from the flat rooftop. Like bees they were swarming out, following the marks left earlier by the angry workers. Somehow no one seemed to be interested anymore in the explosive event. Only a couple of firefighters were doing their job to extinguish the last flames. Slowly Daud blinked from rooftop to rooftop until he reached the burned mess. Perfect, no more trouble. Whatever the reason, it won’t be an issue for now.

Only then did he notice a small girl, sitting in a corner right in front of the crumbling facade. Where did she come from? Children here? Something was off and more importantly this story could be spun into a debate about child labour. Without further ado Daud stepped out of the shadows once more and blinked next to girl, grabbing her arm and dragging her inside the building. “You’re going to stay put, okay? We wait and see, alright?”

 

[Punkie]

The man was losing grip. He was sweating, the area was filled with people, and there were overseers with hounds nearby too as well. He had no idea what he was doing, and if he was going to make it through. Still, he tried to figure out a way around, making his way toward the building on fire, and pausing for some time wit the child. Elizabeth felt warm, the fires making her sweat. She felt dirty, exhausted, and her fear was only making her feel worse, but still she remained silent, awaiting what kind of bad luck would come next. Maybe another explosion would happen, she decided, and she'd simply perish in the fire itself.

However, it didn't come. Instead, she felt herself getting pulled away, directed toward the building nearest to her. Her eyes met with that of a man she found terrifying - he was tall, wore clothes unfamiliar to her, and had a very rough expression that hid underneath various scars. She swallowed, nothing but a quick nod coming from her when he gave her instructions. There was no way she'd deny any orders some someone like this.

The wicked man, after taking a minute to realize what was happening, turned to see the girl vanish around the corner of the building, and anger built up inside him. "Hey!" He'd cry out angrily, following closely after the girl.

As soon as Elizabeth heard the voice, she turned to see him storming into the room, and without thinking, she quickly moved so that she was standing behind the new man, so that maybe she'd be safe. The wicked man looked down at Elizabeth, and then up at the man who had pulled her in, anger bubbling on his expression. "Whats the big idea! That's my kid you're taking away from me! I ought to go get someone out there to come and jail you!" He was shouting and being rather loud, stepping toward him as he spoke. Elizabeth closed her eyes and shook a bit from where she hid, wishing that everything would just vaish and go away for good.

 

[Patchface]

Annoyed by the loon yelling at him, Daud carefully pulled out one of the needles in his belt. The man wouldn’t be worth the poison, but any display of violence could shatter the girl’s fragile expectations. Then severe trouble was a certainty. Without spouting out any reaction, Daud pulled down the left shoulder of his opponent and injected the anesthesia poison. The flabbergasted man widened his eyes and lost conscience in a matter of seconds. To make sure, that he wouldn’t have to care about the motionless body in the next few hours, Daud dragged him like a sack of potatoes across the room, letting him sit in a corner like a puppet. At first sight, one would assume that he was a drunk who was resting in the shadows of an old, abandoned entry hall.

With a sigh of relief Daud moved back towards the place the girl was curling up at and sat down right next to her to block any attempt of an escape. “Don’t worry, I won’t put you to sleep like your young fellow over there”, said Daud, “If you stay quiet, that is. I have to wait until dawn. Which means, so do you.” It wasn’t a pleasant place to stay during a night, but the safest. Confirming whether or not his suspicion of the source of the explosion was correct would take time. Though Billie was quick-witted and fast. Even the lamest strategy can be the most effective.

 

[Punkie]

Elizabeth watched with wide eyes as the wicked man fell to the ground, and was tossed aside as if he were really nothing. She felt herself release a breath she'd been holding, and felt relieved that she was finally free of that entire situation. However, she was now faced with an entirely new situation and unlike the immediate danger of the wicked man, she wasn't sure if this was as dangerous or not from first look.

This man was very frightening, and he was holding her hostage here, so she had no idea what that meant for her. Maybe he'd just sit there until it was time to go, or maybe he'd have similar intentions as the other man. Either way, when he mentioned that she needed to stay quiet, she nodded quickly in response, not wanting to show any sign of disobeying.

After a bit of silence and nothing awful happening, she felt herself relax a bit. This abandoned spot wasn't actually too bad of a place to hide, and she wondered if maybe she'd come back here again later for keeping shelter. Her eyes kept watching this man next to her, wondering what his intents and purposes were. Every so often though, her gaze would wander over in the direction of the wicked man, sleeping soundly with no signs of waking up soon.

"I don't actually know that man..." She finally broke the long silence, her voice small and silent. "So... if he wakes up, please don't let him try to take me again."
That reminded her to look at her wrists. Lifting her hand up, she pulled up her sleeve a bit, eyeing the area where he'd held her with an iron grip. It didn't hurt too much at the moment, but she could see that there were bruises slowly forming over them.

 

[Patchface]

Daud was fumbling his keys. Not really his keys, but the ones Semyonovich gave to him. What’s up with Rothwild? His mind kept torturing him as he sat on the cold stone floor. The stained glass ceiling floating above his head, observing this rotten place. He didn’t show up, even though we sailed on the Delilah. The conversations between the firefighters faded away and soon vanished in the distance. Given that his current location was disconnected from any road, Daud felt relief. In all these years, Rothwild never broke a promise. He had an itchy sensation in his thighs and his feet kept moving, scraping on the floor, urging him to stand up. “Until now”, he muttered. The puzzle in his head evolved. It changed color and dragged him closer to the abyss.

“Not yet”, he decided more clearly. His imagination was running wild. He couldn’t make sense of it. Memories floating in his eyes, familiar faces, his chest contracting, pushing a painful scream up his throat. “I don’t actually know that man…” Daud was shaken by silence. No noise dropping out of his open mouth. He vividly remembered the disappointed look on the face of the Outsider. His disgust. “I don’t actually know that man”, Daud repeated slowly and calmly. Do I? Finally, he was settling down. No burden to push him forward. He yawned. He got tired. He wanted to leave.

While trying to get up Daud got irritated. Who is this girl? He realized he wasn’t alone. Of course he was not, why would he be? “Who are you?”, he blurted out in his confusion, instantly regretting this childish question.

 

[Punkie]

Elizabeth watched this man closely, genuinely uncertain what she ought to make of him. Part of her felt rather anxious, fearful, because of how terrifying he looked, and the way he seemed to mutter to himself. However, another part of her felt almost... safe. Perhaps not exactly like she trusted him, but more like she didn't think he was going to hurt her at this point as long as she kept quiet like he wanted, and that if anyone terrible came in he would more than likely handle it like that wicked man in the corner.

She was naive probably, for thinking that, but she decided that having at least the hope of not being hurt while she was sitting here quietly was better than being afraid if she'd live another day.

When she heard him speak clearly, she was pulled away from her thoughts, startled. Looking over at him, her eyes were wide and nervous, not having expected him to speak to her, let alone ask a question such as who she was.

"I'm... Elizabeth." Her voice was very quiet, as though she felt like if she spoke too loudly, he would do her like he had done the man in the corner. "I'm nobody, just a beggar child. She decided to add in, as if trying to assure him that she was nothing to worry about.

 

[Patchface]

Elizabeth, that’s an awful name for a beggar. No poor woman would come up with such a grotesque joke. Daud sensed there was a complicated story sitting in front of him. One of anguish and pity. He didn’t need any of that.

Daud got up, his boots sliding across the demolished floor of the entrance hall. I don’t actually know that man. The thought began haunting him. It was the first time the Outsider encoded a secret in front of him. Giving a hint without the full picture. Almost as if he knew that a betrayal would be inevitable. Dauds head wasn’t spinning anymore, though he knew that it was only a matter of time until the corrosion inside him would climb back out of its gorge.

He yawned again and continued patrolling. There was no sign of Billie, but also no time pressure. Nonetheless Daud grew impatient. He had to leave this place. Catching sight of Elizabeth now and again bestowed him with the idea of an invisible rapture unfolding around him.

“What’s up with that? Elizabeth is not a beggar’s name”, Daud asked to keep his thoughts at bay and to buy time.

 

[Punkie]

[ I truly apologize for such a late response, and understand if you'd like to drop the RP. I got very sick, and then had midterms for two weeks due to some crazy snow days. I'll reply now anyways though, and it's okay if it's been so long that you've lost interest.]

Elizabeth was feeling awfully sleepy now. All of these events had taken place late at night, and now she took note that maybe she was beginning to see the slightest sights of dawn cracking the skyline. Her eyes felt heavy, and when she blinked her eyelids burned, but she refused to sleep with so much uncertainty around her. Though, it had been quiet for some time now, this man in front of her wasn't doing anything immediately threatening, and the wicked mann the corner was still knocked out cold. Maybe she could close her eyes for a moment...

But then he spoke again, and her eyes snapped open like she'd never been sleeping. She listened to him, noting that this time he was actually talking to her, rather than mumbling to herself. When he asked the questions, she fiddled with her fingers nervously, not entirely sure how to answer.

"I don't know what makes a beggar name, but it's just the name my parents gave to me." She said simply, not looking at the man. "I mean... everyone is given a name, I just so happen to be a beggar too. I suppose that's all." She added in, really unsure if that was the right answer or not.