I'm Only Human

Pairing: (Slight) Corvo Attano x The Outsider

A/N: This is a short snippet of something I intend to properly finish one day. I do love Dishonored and the world just drags me back in time and time again. 

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Whale Song

The blood had run out. The Outsider remembered the vague sensation of losing the feeling in his extremities before the world had flickered slowly into darkness. He remembered trying to curl his fingers despite not being able to breathe as the dark spots blinked closer and closer to his sight. The last air left him as he wondered why he felt so cold. The Outsider hadn’t felt the cold of the water in many years. Thousands if he had kept track of time correctly. But he realised quickly that his years of experience had very little relevance in real, day to day life. Billie Lurk had gone to kill him. To avenge her mentor, perhaps? He found himself uncaring when he felt the void blade slice into his gut before she whispered his real name back to him. Fear pulsed through him similarly as to when he was laid bleeding out into the water as a young man, fingers grasping at nothing as he felt something snap within him. Thousands of years of power and the residual hum of power in his veins was gone. He gasped the first new breath of life clutching Billie Lurk with weak fingers, feeling the place around him grow cold and harsh as he was removed from his home.

 “Being human means, you’ll feel a lot worse than this, guppy.” Billie sighed as she wrapped him in the third blanket from the storage room, the fabric coarse and rough underneath his fingertips. The Outsider shivered underneath the layers, looking out of the thin glass windows at the choppy seas surrounding them in the middle of nowhere, floating on the ocean, heading back towards Dunwall and where they knew two people would be curious as to what was happening with the Void.

“I know well what it means to be human. I did used to be one, in case you had forgotten.” He snapped as she stoked the little furnace with a laugh and moved forwards on her stool, face looking younger for a smile. Billie Lurk had seen a lot in her time, but nothing was more amusing than a God pretending to remember what it was like to be starkly mortal.

“Although I know you were once a human, I don’t think you even remotely remember what it was like to be one.” She teased as he huddled in on himself, nose dripping with snot in the bitter cold of the seas.

Multiple sources say the some of the studio’s most troubling dynamics originated from one person: co-founder Kevin Bruner.

Bruner worked primarily as a programmer prior to Telltale, including during his stint at LucasArts. But he wore many hats during his time at Telltale: first as the company’s CTO and later as a director and CEO. According to numerous current and former employees, Bruner’s behavior became significantly more abrasive and inflexible after the success of The Walking Dead. Thanks to his background in programming, he had been a strong force in creating game development tools for Telltale. As the studio’s popularity exploded, some employees felt he wanted to step into the role of a design auteur, which sources say made him resistant to give the spotlight to other employees at the company.

“That’s when things got really bad,” says a former employee. “I think a lot of the insecurity came from The Walking Dead.” The game’s success had significantly raised the profiles of Rodkin and Vanaman and earned them widespread praise. “I think that that really irked [Bruner] a lot,” says the source. “He felt that… he deserved that. It was his project, or it was his company. He should have gotten all that love.”

Some say Bruner’s behavior led Rodkin and Vanaman to ultimately leave after the wildly successful first season of The Walking Dead. “They were tired of fighting with [Bruner],” says a source with direct knowledge. They jumped into indie development and founded their own studio called Campo Santo, where they released the award-winning game Firewatch. One source points to Campo Santo’s success, along with Night School Studios and its supernatural thriller Oxenfree — co-created by former Telltale veteran Adam Hines — as a catalyst for Bruner’s tightening grip.

“He was hesitant to give anyone much credit for having significant creative vision,” one source says. “He thought they would leave and become a competitor because he had a couple of strong examples of people doing exactly that.” If Bruner’s behavior was aimed at quashing future competitors, however, it only wound up driving more people out the door. Those who stayed as project leads often felt that they were no longer trusted to do their jobs, and were shuffled to the side in favor of giving Bruner the limelight. “There was a dark period of time where if you were in charge of a project, you are not getting any interviews,” one source says. “He’s going to be the one on the panel. He’s going to be the one doing the interviews. He’s going to be the one in the magazine.”

Former employees and sources with direct knowledge of Telltale’s inner workings consistently describe Bruner as a creative bottleneck who micromanaged every part of the development process, from pitch to final product — even going so far as to personally rewrite tutorial text. “He wanted to be consulted on everything from the color of the walls to who they’ve hired to write specific dialogue,” a former employee says.

Bruner took over as CEO of Telltale in 2015 from Connors, who former employees described as a far less imposing figure. Numerous employees describe Bruner as cultivating a culture of fear, and a running joke at the company compared Bruner’s attention to the Eye of Sauron, the fiery gaze of the villain in The Lord of the Rings. “Inevitably, the Eye of Sauron looks at you, and that beam of light just blows everything up and makes it a hellscape where you don’t believe in a thing you’re building anymore,” says a former employee. “A lot of times at Telltale, you don’t feel like you’re wanted there.”

Executive review meetings with higher-ups like Bruner became infamous within the company as brutal, hours-long arguments where Bruner would belittle and question the choices of those involved with the studio’s projects, according to half a dozen sources. “When [Bruner] saw something he decided he didn’t like — which very often was exactly what he had asked for — [that] was really undeserved, and often really difficult for teams to deal with,” the source says.

But multiple sources told The Verge that they often felt like they weren’t making the best games possible, but rather the ones that Bruner personally preferred. “It often felt like we were building games specifically for him,” says one source with direct knowledge of the process. “We were tailoring the type of content we were building — not just gameplay mechanics, but tone, the types of characters we chose to use — to his taste. This was one of the biggest issues with him as a CEO: he was pretty convinced that his taste was everyone’s taste.”

Bruner’s time at Telltale came to a close in March 2017, when employees spotted him leaving the Telltale offices with his backpack. He’d left most of his things in his office; shortly after, the company got an email from him announcing that he had stepped down as CEO, and Connors would once again resume the position. Though rumors of Bruner’s departure had circulated widely, many were shocked when it came to pass. Others were more surprised by the quiet way Bruner had chosen to leave.

”My guess is that he saw writing on the wall,” says a source with direct knowledge of the company. “We needed to break out of the Telltale formula, do something different, surprise and delight people, multiple years ago. It’s reflected in [online] comments in articles about us. It’s reflected in our review scores. It’s reflected in our sales. It’s reflected in our game scores. Everyone [could] see that, not just people who work for Telltale.”

And there we have it. Four years later, I finally have a name and a face to attach to cataclysmic shift from original TWDG to the worst sequel ever made: Kevin Bruner. He stepped into the role of CEO, he bullied, belittled, and demeaned the hard-working artists, programmers and coders of the company, he forced his idiotic and often changing personal whims on already over-worked development teams, he ruined literally everything Telltale Games ever built. But he’s not all bad. From the same article there’s also this: “One of the most recognizable mechanics in Telltale games, where players are told that a character ‘will remember that,’ was his idea.” Well Mr. Bruner, you took a company hot off its heels from a massive sleeper-hit that won over 80 GOTY awards, codified a new sub-genre of games, and was famous for literally moving jaded YouTubers to tears, and destroyed it and everything it ever built, and only in six years time, the last year and a half of which you couldn’t even be bothered to stick around for, all because you wanted to be the center of attention.