some discworld designs

“ IF YOU’RE EXPECTING A HAPPY ENDING...”

She had been persistent, she always was in her own way. In a sense, it was also one of the things that drew Out into her… aside from the fact she prevented him from being arrested with handcuffs. “So, care to tell me why you were stealing large quantities of gold from the prime minister of the LLC committee?” Her voice was calm but inquisitive, as she held a pack of papers, straightened them and then placed them down, looking at him with a similar emotion. “Um…” He started, it had been half a year since his escape of Saul’s grasp and talking to a human, or an elf, in this case, was still foreign to him, that or he didn’t like it. Speaking too much could reveal too much which could lead to betrayal. Something he hated and didn’t fancy at all. However, there were times where he had to take up a job or two to access black market deals, gain money for his survival or worst of all find purpose as a thief, murderer, and any other criminal background. He was versatile like that and the Voidwalker form helped his dark parts of work, doing as it pleased when he demanded more money than what his contracts had and when they wouldn’t pay, kill them with a simple slice of his blade. Out saw it as a lesson, one they would never forget. It was their fault for being too reckless and not knowing a poor man’s demands that needed to be met. “Well?” She spoke, leaning backward to retrieve the clipboard from the gray floor. They had taken him to an investigation room, where she was ordered to question him and his crimes. He didn’t know it but there had been a bounty on his head for sometime but the title of ‘black-eyed bastard’ had been the only one given to him, nothing else, and it was only distributed in the slums where it was easier to murder someone and get away with it than steal a sack of bread in the business area of the LLC. Seemed he made a name without even realizing it. Not that he cared much for fame, he wasn’t big on attention.

Out wondered what his charges were exactly and the only way to figure that was to answer her questions before he could ask his own. A trade-off as he saw it, but to her, it wouldn’t go like that. She’d never tell him what he had been convicted of. Later he would, however not from her. “Come on I know being deprived of speaking for a few minutes is nerve-wracking but still it’s not the end of the world. I know a lot of big bad people out there and you aren’t even close to them.” His eyebrows rose in surprise at her comments laced with sarcasm, did she see this as a joke? Offense filled abyssal eyes, opening his mouth to protest before she cut him off. “I don’t want to hear anything from the notorious ‘black eyed bastard’ until I get my answers. Now, tell me why were you stealing from the prime minister?” Evading her previous sarcasm with work, interesting. He kept her green stare for what seemed like ages before cutting off the contact, she was a simple prick on his side and once he escaped from this hell he’d be back to his contracts. “I have a right not to speak my reasons.” “Yeah, but that right doesn’t apply to serial killers who work for food.” Almost instantly a tension filled the room, making it seem as if the air was thicker and making it harder for him to breath. A spark lit in his eyes, something he prefers to hide. No one got the better of him and he wasn’t about to let an elf get away with his weakness of showing emotion. Instead, he shook his head, a long sigh drawing from his scarred lips. This was useless, if only he had been stealthier than he wouldn’t be in this mess. Curse Oren should’ve never picked up the rumors from the damned beggar. Out would make sure to pay him a visit once he was free from the UPR’s grip. “I was desperate,” he harshly spoke, narrowing dark eyes to the female across from him as she wrote it down. “Hmm, go on…” His eyebrows knitted, clearing his throat. “Are you writing this down?” She nodded, flipping the clipboard over to show him the lined paper and the simply written notes she already had.

> Rude.

> Desperate ( sheez he sounds like a glorified HOLOdrama. )

> Worst of all, a serial killer who kills for bread. Jeez, he was right on the desperate part.

A snarl lifted his lip, dark eyes glaring at her with a desire to leave. “Don’t, my words are private.” She shook the pencil his way, flipping it back to scribble some more nonsense. “Yeah, I get it but I need this as evidence.” He rolled his eyes, “And calling me a glorified HOLOdrama is evidence?” A shrug of her shoulders was his answer as she moved her pencil around some more, “continue.” He sighed again, crossing his arms unamused. “Fine, as you know where my home is and looking through it without my consent, you must know I lack a wealth of money and desire to steal from the rich and live as a poor man picking up sketchy jobs, doing anything for a few more credits. I stole from the prime minister because I needed the money to get me a decent meal. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a full meal and the last time I did eat were a few pieces of bread and a can of beans. No matter how hard I try it seems to be difficult to get rid of my status as poor or move from the LLC and actually find a purpose in this life of misery and hate. If you’re expecting a happy ending, you’ll be sorely disappointed because you’ll get nowhere in life when you live in the LLC or in the slums. You’ll forever be stuck living with your past pains and suffer like rest of them. You wanna know why I stole from the big fat guy sitting in a chair? Because I desire to have a better purpose in life. I don’t want to be someone’s puppet for eleven years and then subjected to hide in the slums and live as a criminal for my whole life. I want a job, I want a home and most of all I want a will to live. Not just for survival.” It seemed he had rendered the elf speechless. Her green eyes were cast to the clipboard and the half-sentence she had written. The grip on her pencil tightened as she slowly looked up to him. 

“Wow, that’s a lot of motivation, I haven’t heard in awhile.” Was her voice cracking? His expression morphed slowly to relax as he could hear her own sigh. “I knew the poor part but what else were you saying eleven years… as a slave?” Her eyebrows rose in concern, green eyes looking into black ones trying to see if he was lying or for any false information but the only thing she could see was hurt, pain and the intense look of fear. “Please, I don’t like talking about it… I don’t want to go back...” Out trailed off, his gaze snapping away from her’s and down to the floor. She could barely hear him whisper, the bravado of a strong criminal seeming to fall as if it was an act, a play that most convicts play until the end, but he was different. He was speaking the truth. “So the prime minister was just someone that was actively helping you out without him actually realizing that he was helping you by having so much wealth that you could steal?” The criminal nodded, keeping his gaze lowered in what seemed like disappointment, shame maybe? ( Why was he being shameful now? Was it because he finally realized how silly this case was, or for a whole other reason? ) “Okay, so that’s the full report.” She began to stand not knowing if it was such a good idea to leave, he seemed serious in distraught. But it was her duty… she had to. “Stay here, I’m going to give this to my CO and see what he has to say in all of this and then discuss your trial and sentence.” His head snapped up to look at her, black eyes seemed to be glossed over as if tears were burning in his eyes. “I’ll be back.” 

As she left little did Out know that this was the beginning of a wonderful relationship with her and the UPR. Thanks to her persuasive and more natural tongue she was able to change a few minds of her comrades and take the poor and broken man as their new spy or as he liked to be called The Unwanted.