hopepainandshit | TLV: IC Inbox

"No. She was there. Upstairs. Clever girl led me out the back way once I had the key for us," he mutters. "I took her back to the pub and she - stayed there a while."

"What happened to them? The brothers." The paper says, so he picks it up casually, so Corvo can't cheat.

"He didn't say and I didn't ask."

He deliberately doesn't look.

"Right." Neutral, almost careful. But that's... also not great.

He slides the paper aside. "Lady Boyle?"

He looks away.

"No. Not that one." It's the one he has the most regret about and he even tries to reach over to snatch the page away.

He snatches the page first and leans back quickly, holding it at arm's length so Corvo can't grab it. "All of them, Corvo. What did you do to Lady Boyle?"

"Read it yourself," he mutters, staring at the door. "I didn't kill her."

"No, it was worse than that," he says quietly. He's trying to keep his voice even, but it's a hard-won calm. "You turned her into a prisoner, you sold her to a man that was obsessed with her."

He doesn't deny it. He doesn't justify it. The truth is there, in that file, and he can't run.

He just watches Richter. Silent.

His gaze remains, but there's no point belaboring it. Corvo knows.

Next page.

"Hiram Burrows."

"I put a blade through his heart," Corvo says with no hesitation.

"You knew he was guilty," he says plainly. "And you didn't give anyone else a chance to realise it."

"No."

He clenches his teeth. "He was the mind behind it all. I wanted to see him killed."

He doesn't even deny it. As time went on, Corvo started to care less and less. He started to see and think only in blood and death. He would be willing to brand Campbell. Burrows had no chance.

"No one else knew," he repeats pointedly. "That means for all anyone knew you slaughtered him in cold blood. That you would kill anyone with the right reason. Nobody would be able or willing to trust you, if they couldn't tell what you're thinking."

"I don't care. I was a wanted man anyway. He deserved to die. He deserved that and more."

He gestures to the file. "As did Daud."

"You were wanted because of him. If he had made a full confession, would you be known as innocent?"

He shrugs. "I don't care, Richter. I don't. I enjoyed putting that blade through him, and if that makes me the inmate here, then so be it."

"If you don't care then why are you bothering to get me to read this?" He flicks Daud's page back to the table. "Burrows and Daud were the power behind it, but everyone else was a stepping stone on the way. You didn't need to kill any of them."

"No, perhaps not. But I wanted to."

He glances to Daud and then back up to Richter's face. Daud, who had been the Outsider's sacrifice. Corvo was the next.

Richter just sighs quietly.

"I don't think enjoying killing the person who wronged you made you an inmate." Well, he does a little, but it's a symptom rather than the cause. "But I think the part where you didn't give a shit about the people you hurt on the way to do it might be."

"Who? The others involved in the conspiracy? The guards? Who deserved to be spared?" he challenges.

"They probably thought they were going to help make things better. Killing them, or whatever fucking worse thing happened to the Pendletons, that doesn't show them that they fucked up by believing in this conspiracy." He spreads a hand across the sheets. "The only way to prove these sorts of people wrong is to prove them wrong, not kill everyone. That makes them think they must be right because why else would they be getting murdered with no explanation?"

"That wasn't my job, boy. I'm not here to teach the gods damned world a lesson and guide them gently towards the fucking right thing."

He rolls his eyes.

"That's what Jessamine would've been doing as Empress." No hesitation on that particular landmine, but his tone is soft, almost gentle. "Wasn't it?"

"She was the Empress," he says and his voice is low, a warning.

"And she didn't get to finish her work. Because they killed her."

TLV: IC Inbox

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach

Re: Post-breach