-The Outsider-
As he looked upon Corvo and (Y/N) from his place in the void, a distinct look of jealousy and displeasure was on his face. Outsider had grown a fondness of (Y/N), and did not feel like losing to Corvo of all people. He needed a way to make Corvo see that he had claimed (Y/N), and was not willing to give her up without a fight.
As Corvo started to walk towards one of the Outsider's shrines, the Outsider smirked. An idea was playing itself in his brain, and slowly forming into a plan.
As he watched them, he decided to pay more attention to you. After all, you were a servant girl put into an outrageously dangerous situation with his markings on your hand.
When Corvo got to the shrine, and picked up the runes, Outsider was there.
"Well, if it isn't the Dear Lord Protector...but then again...you aren't doing your best at that, are you? Seeing as how the Empress was murdered, you're blamed for it, and Lady Emily is missing of all things."
The information of the Empress's death shocked you, and you gasped. Just the reaction he was hoping for. He knew that (Y/N) would most likely blame Corvo for not being able to protect Jessamine.
"Is that true...? Is Miss Jessamine truly dead..?"
Corvo looked at (Y/N) and nodded, "Yes...I'm afraid so.."
(Y/N) looked at the Outsider with disbelief. He nodded to confirm it as well. "My Dear (Y/N), I can most assure you that, unlike our Dear Corvo here, I will protect you the best I can."
A smile played across her face as she relaxed. Her eyes held hope, fear, and trust. Outsider didn't know what she feared, and didn't get the time, as his window was closing and he couldn't say anything else to the pair.
Outsider looked around his void, and decided that he was extremely lonely. Maybe after all this was over, he could convince (Y/N) to come stay with him...
He shoved the thought of it out his head. (Y/N) wouldn't want to live in a place like this, it was so desolate and lonely.
He sighed, and started to come up with a plan to get Corvo out of the picture. A devilish smirk played at his lips when he thought of the perfect thing.
Another who bore his mark.
