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Corvo

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Hell.
  • Interests
    Long walks on the beach, good beer, ladies... GUNS, RAZORS, KNIVES.

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    25

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  1. God. One leg over the other, his foot hung limp and toes flicked from side to side as the two women unloaded on him. He stared at the empty drink glass after polishing off the liquid within, lifting it to examine it with one eye closed. God damn it, they have inflated self-esteem and get easily offended. They're the most annoying kind of bitches. Corvo exhaled loudly as he was told to "tread lightly." "I'm gonna stop you right there, lady," he said, thrusting out a hand as KnightinGale started to prattle off her indignation and indicated that the other girl had 'claimed' him. "You're talk
  2. His gaze locked with hers when she reached toward him. When her fingers traced his skin, he slowly glanced down toward her hand, then back toward her. Fire burned in his veins, that deep seated longing for human touch fulfilled. Acid boiled immediately thereafter at the cruel reality, that the touch he received was anything but. Digitized emulation of the genuine article. An elaborate lie, the same lie that the game told them day in and out. Don't fucking touch me. His rage screamed from within, caged behind his ribs, bursting outward to blister his flesh from the inside. He almost g
  3. It didn't take much to get her attention, he noticed. Corvo reached back behind him and peeled the wooden pipe from his inventory, spinning it deftly between his fingers as he drew it around his body and brought it to his lips. Bringing both hands up to cup and cover the bowl while igniting the herb within, he took a long, heavy, burning draw with both eyes closed. The room was still spinning. His head hadn't left the spiral of endorphins and adrenaline, nor had the headache left him entirely. He needed the sanity that his placebo brought, at least enough to not stumble over his own two f
  4. He leaned back and pressed his palms against the rooftop, bracing himself for a deep breath that forcibly filled his lungs. The air here was dank, even so high up and away from the bustling city below. The headache brewing in his temples went unabated by the so-called "fresh air," and he exhaled harshly. "Fuckin' city smells like a hooker puked up saffron 'n myrrh on someone's taint," he muttered as he pushed his back toward the roof and stretched his spine, slowly reaching toward the edge with either hand to pop his shoulders. In reality, he didn't need the sensation in this world, but he was
  5. The scents of incense and spice were only faint from so high up, but they were what had driven him there. Lhasri was pungent and vibrant, filled to overflowing with culture, art, and even music that bled deep into the night. Firelight rather than proper lanterns settled in over the cityscape, illuminating the figures of its citizens gyrating and undulating in time with the rhythm. He climbed to the apex of one building simply to escape the headrush that his surroundings gave him. Though Corvo enjoyed smoke and even inhaled deeply when first he arrived, after several long hours of explora
  6. Panic. Discord. Terror. The mighty advantage of mass confusion was a powerful tool when in the hands of a strategist. Unfortunately, the line between tactical genius and psychopath blurred in Corvo, who's sheer and blinding rage caused him to lash out and maim the ship itself. Whether or not it had done a fine job of breaking the enemy ranks up or sowing confusion was irrelevant. What mattered was that someone was going to fucking pay for spoiling his wine. He fell unceremoniously through the floor that buckled beneath the force and weight of his strike, spinning through and landing
  7. Some time before... "Black Tie." Corvo leered down at the message with a curt shake of his head. "Thanks for doing literally what the game forced you to do, lets celebrate." What a concept! It was like the AI wanted to give them the realest experience possible, throwing them into the fire and then treating them as heroes, creating the ideal setting to exacerbate the already rampant Stockholm Syndrome. And now, the machine brain wanted to treat them like VIPs in the real world. "Ties are for old guys," he announced to no one in particular as he made a snap decision about what to
  8. He caught the crystal deftly as it was thrown, despite not knowing what it was. He didn't glance at the menu prompt to find out, either. The words that this woman spoke to him were ice, and suggested that he was worthless. "Piss on that,"he hissed angrily as he swapped the item for a different one in his inventory, this time guzzling the conjured healing potion in a single swig. He would need every drop of health he could manage in order to survive this encounter. The last thing he wanted to do was die, but next to that, proving this person right was damned close to his top priority. He
  9. "Shitty drinks, piss poor conversation, and annoying edgelords. The trifecta," Corvo recalled in thrillingly boring detail the circumstances that surrounded their last meeting, brief though it was. But they hadn't exchanged names, not so far as he could remember. Just a dagger, one that he threw in the same lazy manner as the knife Corvo had just witnessed him loose."At least you did something," the red eyed rapscallion waved his hand dismissively. "That girl was all talk, and I was hoping for some action. Really killed my boner. But anyway-" He forgot the face of the woman as quickly as
  10. Fuck today. Those words hung in the mind of Corvo as he wandered through the paradoxically busy and lonely streets of the Town of Beginnings with a scowl plastered across his face. Hollow smiles and forgettable faces lined the thoroughfare as he was constantly reminded of how few people he knew, and how none of them could possibly fill the void left behind with his family, a world away. That had been the same mentality that eroded him for years, and even that tasted foul now. The worst part of it all was that today of all days, he couldn't just pretend that it wasn't painful. Tonia- his s
  11. Mongrel, she says. "Well, can't hate you for that," he shrugged. "most of the idjits in this place are delusional. At least we're getting someplace," Corvo clicked his tongue again as he shouldered his axe and admired the few seconds of violence-induced silence that her weapons had brought about. He wasn't dead yet, at least. "Nine," he answered the woman's question without getting any more arbitrary or obtuse. There was no use in inflaming a situation that was already in flames. It was evident that there was no danger of this person prying into his personal business. This made
  12. "His Majesty?" he clicked his tongue once disapprovingly. "Aintcha a hair too pretty to be King of anything?" the blonde asked without a second thought. It hit him immediately thereafter, and he snapped like he had been gifted a stroke of genius. "Oh, I get it, you must be one of them types what dont identify with what hangs- or don't hang between yer legs. I get it, I get it, no worries, I support it. Live yer truth 'n all that shit," he flicked his wrist dismissively, like that was the least of his worries. "But, ah, we're gonna have a problem if you don't wanna work with me on this," h
  13. "...so they need help dealing with the town's bacon shortage, I get it. Bacon's important shit. I'd probably pay someone too." The golden haired youth picked at his teeth with a fingernail as he spoke, not bothering to make eye contact with the young woman who'd gone out of her way to explain the situation to him. She frowned. "No, that's not what I said at all," she started to say, "boars. Lots of them. The quest calls for extermination, so-" "Right, right. Kill boars. Make bacon. I get it," he repeated. She sighed loudly and threw up her hands. The part about boars appeared to have
  14. In another life, this was exactly the kind of person he would have kept around. The social games that they played, the pomp and circumstance that followed with being regarded as higher class- all the things his family expected him to learn and comply with drove him toward these frauds. People who learned to hide their faces behind masks and smiled, even when they hated what they acquiesced to. Somewhere in this world, alone, aware, beyond the reach of pretense Evan learned that it was just that. A part that they played to adjust and conform. The other two were smiles and concessions- @Bi
  15. Corvo listened to the man respond with none of the subtlety- or feigned subtlety, as the case may have been- the question had been asked with. Whether he was being intentionally obtuse or otherwise, it mattered little. Corvo offered a pained sigh and a shrug in response, as though it was the best he could do. The whole world had gone mad long ago. Who was he to hold on? Instead, Bismuth seemed interested in collecting flowers. Or, whatever it was that he intended to collect. Corvo wasn't really paying that much attention to the finer details. They were going the same way, and they'd be ta
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