Thief+Dishonored Fics And Crossovers

Automatons

The City has more secrets and nooks than there are years in an old man's lifetime. Probably because every time one City falls another gets built right on top of it. That's no-one-knows-how-many years of secrets all in one place with a hiding spot for each one.

One such hiding place is where Garrett finds the automaton.

The whole house is covered in a layer of dust so thick, Garrett wonders if anybody ever really lived here. But, of course, someone must have. There's furniture in every room, candles, some of them burned down to stubs, silverware in the kitchen. Somebody lived here once. But where did they go? And who were they? All the tools scattered through the house remind him of Clockwise's house. Except this one isn't a puzzle.

Who else was in Ector's letters? An engineer. The Engineer. The one who worked with Ector, before he went rogue. Is that who lived here? Upstairs, a bedroom is half-covered in scrawled notes and blueprints. Sketches of a head, a torso, arms and legs. This is the Engineer's house. But why leave? The Baron cancelled the project but it didn't seem like he held any grudge over it. The only one who really seemed angry about it was Ector.

Oddly enough there's not a single thing in the house worth any money. Unlike Clockwise, the Engineer put some thought into leaving. He might not even be in the City anymore.

Garrett starts poking through the stacks of paper and notebooks all over the small room. There are about four separate stacks on the bed alone. Where did he sleep if he used his bed as a desk?

Something in here must say something about where he went or what happened to him. A plan to leave the City, or hide somewhere else, to stay with a friend or family member, something. He moves one of the smaller piles off the bedside table and finds a button hidden underneath. He pauses, thinks of moving walls and tracks on the floor, puzzles in basements.

He sets the papers aside and presses it.

A wall slides aside quietly, revealing a fairly small but well-stocked workshop. Inside are even more tools and notes but he doesn't focus on any of those. His heart lodges itself in his throat.

Completed and standing still against one wall, he stares at the automaton while dust motes swirl through the air. Garrett is the only person who's been in here in a while. He's hesitant to take his eyes off it. Even the broken and incomplete ones aren't to be trusted. When it comes to automatons, he's learned it's best not to fool around. He'll have a quick look around at the notes in the bedroom and get out. Easy. But he's not touching anything in that workshop. And the door is staying open so he can keep an eye on it.

Easier said than done, as it turns out.

Every time he looks away, something creaks behind him or above him. This place is supposed to be empty. He can't decide which would be worse: if it is or if it isn't. Every time he hears something he turns to check on the automaton, but it's always in the same place it was before. Until he hears an especially loud creak.

Slowly, cautiously, he leaves the notes and blueprints on the bed and glances back into the room. Nothing is out of place. There are no footprints besides his own in the dust on the floor. The automaton is still leant against the wall. Except now one of its hands is curled into a fist at its side.

That's it. He's done looking around. He hasn't found anything anyway. Let somebody else deal with this thing. He moves to the door and just as he's about to close it behind him, he glances back. He lets the Primal bubble up and bathe the world in grayscale. The automaton is lit up bright red.

A light comes on behind its eyes. The grating sound of metal scraping metal shatters the silence as its old joints and hinges move on their own.

He blinks the Primal away and practically slams the door shut behind him. He's outstayed his welcome. He sticks to the rooftops and moves quickly, eager to be away from that house. It's only when he finally slows down, and is halfway to Stonemarket, that he hears the squeaking of unoiled metal joints.

He looks down at the dark empty street. The metal man is making his way towards him in jerky, halting movements. There's a pause between each movement, as if every time it moves might be the last. He's almost certain it won't be able to climb, but if it's following him, it will keep going all the way to the Clock Tower. What a way to be found out that would be. The Master Thief exposed by a nosy automaton.

He's got to take care of this thing.

After a little contemplation, he pulls a sawtooth from his quiver and fires at the automaton's head. It bounces harmlessly off.

"Okay..." He sighs.

He already knows fire won't work--the thing is made of metal. Water might, if he can get to the mechanisms inside. But how is he supposed to do that? He doubts it'll hold still long enough for him to open it up nor does he want to get close enough to try. He can't keep waiting around either. Eventually someone will see it looking up here. If he can't break it, maybe he can get it lost. He doubts it knows its way around the City.

He tries to lose it by backtracking further into the district. He takes alleys and vents, cuts through apartments, takes the long, winding way back over the rooftops and still the clank and screech of its faltering steps follows him. It must be tracking him somehow. He thinks back to the workshop. It only turned on when he used the Primal, maybe that's it. It's worth a shot.

He waits until it comes clanking into view again and the world goes gray around him. The automaton is still bright red and it slows like everything else does when he uses the Primal, but otherwise nothing changes. He blinks and color returns to the world.

He watches as it makes its way up the street towards him. He's had just about enough of these machines popping up seemingly just to make everything harder. If the Primal doesn't shut it off, what does? He can't get close to it, and he can't touch it. He could leave it for the Watch to deal with it, but it'd probably take them longer than if he just did it himself. And if it is somehow naturally drawn to the Primal, then it won't stop following him.

He watches it stop in front of the building he's on top of and then begin pacing back and forth. Maybe waiting for him to come down, maybe working out how to come up. He sees a spot on its back as it turns away, like a missing piece.

He leans forward. Not a missing piece, a missing panel. He can see the gears turning in its back. He nocks a water arrow while it turns toward him again, waits for it to turn back. He aims right for that little bunch of moving gears and fires.

The automaton jolts then freezes in place. Sparks pop from its back and takes one slow step. Its eyes flicker off and on and off again. Then finally, finally, it grinds to a halt.

Garrett watches, uses the Primal to make sure it's really stopped. Then he turns towards Clock Tower Plaza. Somewhere nearby, someone shouts for the Watch. Let them try and figure out how it got there. He has to see a man about a bot.

Ector doesn't even look up when Garrett walks in. "Master Thief. How can I help you tonight?"

"One of your metal men chased me through Stonemarket tonight."

His head snaps up. His hands go still. "What?"

"One of your partners left a finished one in his house. It came to life and chased me all the way here."

He stands abruptly and doesn't bother taking his eyepiece off. "Where is it? What did you do with it?" He asks, tone accusatory.

He crosses his arms. "I had to douse it with water to get it to stop."

"What! Why would you--"

"Tell your partner to get his toys under control if he ever shows his face in the City again."

"Listen, I'm just as surprised as you are. I had no idea he was working on this. Now, I have to go salvage what's left of the automaton before the Watch's vultures pick it over. Good night!"

With that, he races off to find the automaton, leaving Garrett to sigh and finally slink back to the Clock Tower for the night.