[ Jasper does as he's told, all the while listening, listening closely and quietly. It's almost like hearing a ghost story told over a campfire in the woods, except the horror is the reality of Corvo's home, and the work they do is messy, bloody. It stains his left hand red and soaks into his right glove. The scent of it hangs in the air, and that coupled with what his rovermate describes is almost too much. He hasn't flinched since his first few tries at skinning, but at the description of the plague and weepers, he can taste stomach acid climbing up the walls of his throat. It was worse than his memories of mage plague, worse than his nightmares. Scents of mold and rot and salt water try to work their way into his lungs and choke him. Focusing on the work in front of him helps, but only to a small extent. He makes cuts, trying to remember, trying to be careful and not to shake or feel cold, trying to keep listening and take in all of what Dunwall is.
It's injustice such as he's never experienced.
He keeps cutting. The skin peels back easily under his fingers as Corvo goes on to tell him about the witches, the dogs, the men who kill the sick in the streets. And then, and then... and when the list of unfathomable cruelties doesn't seem like it will ever end, suddenly it does. When Corvo falls silent his words still hang heavily in the air for almost as long as he spoke. Heavy as the smell of blood. Even then it's not long enough for Jasper to let it all sink in. Only the sound of skin being ripped up from flesh fills the confined space. It's not a pleasant sound, but after all that was said, it's almost appropriate.
It's a few minutes more before Jasper finds his voice again. ]
I'm... I'm real sorry, Corvo...
[ What else can even be said to that? Only what he knows, from what little he can relate to a place such as Dunwall. ]
Those nobles... they sound like Yafaiyans. When the mage plague started to spread they kept their borders shut tighter than ever, even though their forest is full of good medicine. They don't care for anyone outside their woods, and the lords and ladies only care about improvin' their own standin', not the people they're supposed to represent. Elves there are broken up into blood castes. Gold, that's the royal family, silver's the nobles, and bronze is everyone else. There used to be copper at the bottom, but they ran from that Yafaiya and found a different forest far away, set up a new way of livin'... those're my ancestors.
[ The first large piece of leather comes off clean. It's moved aside. Jasper would help him tan it later. For now he continues watching Corvo, listening to his instructions and moving as he does. He's still trying to be precise, trying to be helpful. Trying to shake the salty chill threatening to ensnare his senses. ]
If I could take you and your da-... your... Lady Emily... if I could take you both to Erden and away from all that... maybe not to the forests, but Nilarion proper. The human kings and queens rulin' there now aren't so bad. You'd probly like Jhalir. They got lights like these, but not just for the rich. Or maybe Khemar. Their politics were messy durin' the mage plague, but the new king there is a good man, from what I heard. Eccentric, but good. Khemar's an island, foggy and grey but quiet and calm. Bet you'd like the fishing villages.
[ A spark of realization flickers across his face, and he halts his knife for a moment. Probably for the better, because he still feels a cold he can't quite explain, and his hands still tremble slightly. ]
Maybe after I get my familiar back from the CDC, I could...
[ After a few more planets, a few more worlds destroyed, perhaps he could make a different request. He could ask for Corvo and his Emily to go someplace peaceful, like Khemar. ]
no subject
It's injustice such as he's never experienced.
He keeps cutting. The skin peels back easily under his fingers as Corvo goes on to tell him about the witches, the dogs, the men who kill the sick in the streets. And then, and then... and when the list of unfathomable cruelties doesn't seem like it will ever end, suddenly it does. When Corvo falls silent his words still hang heavily in the air for almost as long as he spoke. Heavy as the smell of blood. Even then it's not long enough for Jasper to let it all sink in. Only the sound of skin being ripped up from flesh fills the confined space. It's not a pleasant sound, but after all that was said, it's almost appropriate.
It's a few minutes more before Jasper finds his voice again. ]
I'm... I'm real sorry, Corvo...
[ What else can even be said to that? Only what he knows, from what little he can relate to a place such as Dunwall. ]
Those nobles... they sound like Yafaiyans. When the mage plague started to spread they kept their borders shut tighter than ever, even though their forest is full of good medicine. They don't care for anyone outside their woods, and the lords and ladies only care about improvin' their own standin', not the people they're supposed to represent. Elves there are broken up into blood castes. Gold, that's the royal family, silver's the nobles, and bronze is everyone else. There used to be copper at the bottom, but they ran from that Yafaiya and found a different forest far away, set up a new way of livin'... those're my ancestors.
[ The first large piece of leather comes off clean. It's moved aside. Jasper would help him tan it later. For now he continues watching Corvo, listening to his instructions and moving as he does. He's still trying to be precise, trying to be helpful. Trying to shake the salty chill threatening to ensnare his senses. ]
If I could take you and your da-... your... Lady Emily... if I could take you both to Erden and away from all that... maybe not to the forests, but Nilarion proper. The human kings and queens rulin' there now aren't so bad. You'd probly like Jhalir. They got lights like these, but not just for the rich. Or maybe Khemar. Their politics were messy durin' the mage plague, but the new king there is a good man, from what I heard. Eccentric, but good. Khemar's an island, foggy and grey but quiet and calm. Bet you'd like the fishing villages.
[ A spark of realization flickers across his face, and he halts his knife for a moment. Probably for the better, because he still feels a cold he can't quite explain, and his hands still tremble slightly. ]
Maybe after I get my familiar back from the CDC, I could...
[ After a few more planets, a few more worlds destroyed, perhaps he could make a different request. He could ask for Corvo and his Emily to go someplace peaceful, like Khemar. ]