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[Instead of doing a lot of panicking and frantic button mashing, Lucy took the time to consider her options when she woke up somewhere unfamiliar and she's been poking around the Dreamberry to uncover whatever she can information wise on this place, sitting down on a flight of non-descript grey stairs.*
She's tense; obvious in the line of her jaw, ( Read more... )
She's tense; obvious in the line of her jaw, ( Read more... )
Her first reaction has him frown: he's been in this world long enough for her to be worried about him. At least a hell lot more than what Lucy is showing at the moment. And then conversations with his ancestors come back to mind and he tilts his head slightly, mumbling to himself, though the blond might pick it up.]
Huh, so they were right...[....Not that he will ever admit it out loud to his great grand-pas. Time does stop in their world. Or so Desmond assumes for the moment.
The young man nods]
I think I know where you are. It shouldn't take me long to get to you. [There's the muffled sound of clothes as Desmond puts his Dreamberry in his pocket long enough to hoist himself up from the top of the railing on his balcony to the next one. It takes a few moments for him to reach the roof, where he takes out his phone again.]
Yeah I will, Lucy. Just...promise me you'll keep an open mind? [Because the last time he tried to explain this world or who he was to someone he knew, he got a boot to the stomach. He'd rather not try the experience a second time.
Her last words make him smirk lightly, a lame attempt at humor and at making light of the situation]
I always am.
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Who was right Desmond?
[Because for her, when she woke up here it had seemed like a moment ago that she and Desmond had been racing through the sewers beneath Monteriggioni, laughing and talking and actually not obsessing over the end of the world so much. She'd been actually doing the other part of her Assassin life - the part Desmond got to relive constantly and she'd been enjoying herself the entire time.
But there's not much she wants to do or say until Desmond gets here and they find somewhere safe to talk. She doesn't like taking these risks]
Desmond, you're scaring me just...just get here and we'll talk and I'll promise to listen to whatever it is you have to say.
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There's a dry chuckle that escapes the novice's lips as he walks to the edge of the building's rooftop, overlooking at the Industrial district.]
You wouldn't believe me if I told you now. [Though she probably will once he's done explaining this world to Lucy. Or at least he hopes she will, because he certainly doesn't want her to think he's gone insane. He might be close to at times, but he's not yet there. He smiles sheepishly at the screen]
Sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just...well...I'll find you shortly, all right? [Seriously, what's with the Assassins and not trusting technology? Oh wait. Abstergo.
Desmond smiles one last time at her and hangs up, slipping the phone into the back pocket of his jeans before starting to climb down the that side of the building, jumping to the next rooftop, slowly making his way to Lucy.]
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He told himself that the hammering in his chest was due to the exercise he had just done, and not because of the nervousness or the relief that came with seeing the blond sitting on the gray flight of stairs. As he fully turned the corner, he smiled at her and struggled with the need to reach for her, as if to make sure she was really there, that this wasn't a trick of his overzealous imagination, that it wasn't another Bleeding Effect episode or a really bad joke from the dreamworld.
"Hey" he plainly said as he took the few steps separating them, though the relief in his face was probably evident.
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He'd said it had taken her long enough which didn't make sense and from the brief video conversation they'd shared he'd looked...at home. Or settled. Settled seemed more appropriate to the situation and she frowned again, tossing the Dreamberry between her hands because this line of thought wasn't helping, it was just giving her more questions.
"Get it together," she muttered to herself as she put the Dreamberry in her pocket to stop herself from fiddling with it and then she stilled. Were those footsteps? Yes, those were footsteps but she waited and when she finally saw Desmond, she smiled and was on her feet, reaching out to give him a hug.
"Hey yourself," she greeted, leaning back to get a good look at his face. "You've got some explaining to do, you know that right?" Because she was in work mode right now; she had questions and she wanted and needed some answers and Desmond could supply her with them. At least once she knew what he'd meant and why he'd seemed so surprised to see her then she could make sure that he was doing okay.
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"I'm fine, Lucy." He still had nightmares, headaches and had lost nothing of the abilities passed down from Ezio through the Animus, but at least his symptoms hadn't got worse. That in itself was a good thing, right?
The novice took a step back and gave a quickly look around them before tilting his head: "We might want to get to my apartment. I'm pretty sure this part of the city is not really recommendable at night." In truth, he was fairly certain it wasn't: the abandoned warehouse where Altaïr had taken him to train by 'watching' him dispatch a thug was not too far from where they were, and Desmond didn't want to stick around for too long, even though the murder had never been solved.
After a few steps taken in silence as he tried to find a way to break the news to the blond Assassin without sounding completely insane, the bartender looked sideways at her, taking the plunge and hoping for the best.
"We're not in Italy anymore. This place is called 'Somarium' and from what I've learned from other...visitors like us, this is a dream world. Like a collective dream we're all having, I guess. People come and go at random, though most noticed an influx of new arrivals at the beginning of the each month. There's no way out, no way to wake up as far as I know. We're stuck here."
It had served Desmond well to bartend, as usual. Listening to people complaining about this world, or simply listening to other's conversations had revealed to be a gold mine for information. The novice waited for her to react to that before continuing with more vital information.
"That phone you used is called a Dreamberry. It's pretty easy to use, but the only downside of it is that it can broadcast your dreams on the network. Not useful to keep secret, to be honest. I know filters can be put on them, but there's always someone watching, trust me." He'd been lucky until then regarding the dreams he had that were broadcasted, but one never knew when that luck would run out. He knew one of these days he'd dream of something he wouldn't be able to evade questions about.
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"Good to know," she replied, not quite as stern as she might have liked because who could hold onto their anger and worry about being somewhere unfamiliar when someone they cared about was right there, looking perfectly well? "And you know, I can hold my own Desmond." After all, who busted you out of Abstergo by herself? But getting indoors would be good and so she folded her arms and followed Desmond, nodding and listening. She'd looked through the Dreamberry, had found the basic information Desmond was telling her and although hearing it reiterated meant that it was all correct, it didn't make it sound any less insane. Or worrying. Already her mind had started racing with possibilities and she'd need to go get notebooks or a PDA to keep everything safe from possible hacking and to keep any notes straight in her head and organised.
"Collective dreaming? I probably shouldn't want to dismiss it seeing as my own theories were dismissed but still...on this sort of scale? How is that even possible?" She knew that if Shaun were around he would have plenty to say on the subject and Rebecca would probably find it 'trippy' or whatever excited word of the day it was with her but it was equal parts fascinating and terrifying. "Broadcasting dreams I guess some of this is close to an Animus but instead of viewing ancestral genetic memory it's more...your own."
Or subject 16. So much of The Truth had come from him, his voice and his puzzles and his words and finally that message that could flip all evolutionary theories on their head, disproving both sides of the argument in one fell swoop.
"Anything else I should take note of?"
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"I don't know how it's possible. But the thing is, it doesn't stop there. There's always something weird happening. Almost monthly, too. When it's not the world turning into candy, we have monsters attacking. Or you wake up, finding strange cards by your bed that either shows what you desire most, or a life you never had." Pulling out the vintage card the resident of Somarium had received almost a month ago now, he showed it to Lucy, as if to prove he wasn't speaking none sense. The card showed him, with longer hair slicked back and clothes fitting the 1920s better than his own, as he stood behind the bar at Mille's speakeasy.
"Yeah, I guess it's a way to describe it."
Desmond stayed silent for another moment, trying to think about what else he could say about this world.
"Well, be prepared to meet all sort of people? I mean, literally. I've seen people with magical abilities, talking ponies, demon hunters, and, well, people we thought long dead. And they were quite alive and kicking." His last words were dripping with annoyance. He admired his ancestors, he really did, and had appreciated the help they both tried to give him, but his ego was still suffering from being at the end of so much disappointment from them.
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Okay, she had to stop for a second there and stare at Desmond's back because this sounded like what someone on drugs would tell you. "Wait, are you being serious about that?" Because if he was joking she'd be hauling him out of bed before five to go for a run but if he was then this place had become a lot less comfortable in her mind. However, she was distracted by looking at the card and trying to hold in her laughter - and if Desmond ever had an ancestor from that period she'd never be able to take them seriously - because this was Desmond who wore baggy jeans and what hoodies and it looked like he'd had grease poured on his head. A little snort of laughter escaped, even with her hand over her mouth. "Sorry, sorry," she muttered but God, Desmond, that was a ridiculous look for you.
"God this is insane. These are things that just don't exist." She shook her head, wondering how one was supposed to react to anything like that at all especially the dead. "Desmond, is there a reason..." She'd been going to ask about the annoyance when it dawned on her. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. She'd meant only to think it but the surprise of it had made her voice her thoughts. "Your ancestors? Both of them? Ezio and Altaïr? They were here. Both of them." And she was beaming again because that was an incredible opportunity for Desmond and she hoped to God he'd learned things from them when they'd been here. "You have to tell me all about it."
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"Is that really surprising?" he shrugged lightly. "I mean, if someone had one day asked me if golden orbs that could control people or secret temples that contained things that are supposed to save our asses existed, I'm pretty sure I would have laughed too. But then again, those things exist, don't they?" That's how he had come to see the strange people he's met here. And that was also how he'd manage not to feel at loss when thinking of the Apple or the temples or Minerva and the rest of them. Just going with the flow and trying to better know and understand other 'visitors' was probably the safest way to get around in this world. At least, in Desmond's mind.
Her beaming smile was not exactly what he had expected as a reaction to Lucy figuring out that his ancestors and him had all met, but it was a welcomed one. At least, she didn’t thought he was insane. The corner of his lips curled up into a small smile:
"Yeah, both of them were here at some point. They met prior to my arrival. It was, hum...interesting to meet them. Let's just say that they weren't really happy to meet someone else wearing their face. And to know that the Templars were still active centuries after their death."
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"I keep going between trying to rationalise as much of this as best I can and telling myself that I'm going to wake up any minute now. What you're talking about," she wasn't about to say Pieces of Eden aloud, "is something I've known for years. It's not such an abstract concept to me. The temples, maybe but you were the one who didn't believe in our order or our enemies when we first spoke." A little smile slipped out as she remembered that. Desmond's sense of humour hadn't been appreciated then and at times, it still wasn't but it was good to see that he still remembered how to be hman and how to make light of a situation, something that they all needed reminded of. "But don't forget, 'magic' came from those things. Talking ponies though...do I even want to know how you know about the talking ponies?"
Really, be thankful she wasn't Shaun because he'd never have let Desmond live something like that down.
"That's incredible!" She almost wished she'd had the opportunity to meet them because learning actual things firsthand from them? Words couldn't do it justice at all. "Well even in Ezio's time they had some weird superstitions - think about what some tribes who haven't had contact with the outside world think about photography. They believe that their souls will be stolen. Despite being Assassins, it still has to be freaky for them to see someone so alike and yet so different to them." She sighed then because it wasn't all that arrogant of either man to believe that the Templars should have been long gone after the efforts they had gone through to put an end to them. "They've always worked more publicly than us, making the right friends when it suits them and they don't have the same creed that we follow. It's part of why they've managed to get to this point."
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"I'm sorry, Lucy, but I don't think you'll wake up anytime soon. I guess the best way to see this is to somewhat think that there is more than one universe and that the people here are coming from many different universes where things that seemed impossible for us are possible for them. I think even our 'Earth' has many versions here as well."
At the mention of the talking ponies, Desmond reached for his Dreamberry and pulled it out of his pocket, quickly searching for the network message he'd heard earlier that week. He had saved it, in case he wanted to make sure he wasn't hallucinating or something. He played the message for Lucy, watching her face for her reaction. Of course he was thankful she wasn't Shaun, but not because of the weird things he just shared with her. And Desmond wouldn't have picked up the historian on his arrival in this world, to begin with.
There was a soft chuckle coming from him: he couldn't remember Lucy ever being this excited. As she was, the novice had greatly wished for the blond Assassin to have been there when he had met Ezio and Altaïr, because she would probably have explained the Animus concept a hell lot better than how he did.
"Well, they were quick to figure out that we were all related. It helped that Ezio knew Altaïr was his ancestor." He sighed lightly at the mention of how the Templars were able to keep doing their dirty business while the Assassin Order seemed to always have struggled to stay afloat. Desmond was well aware that his ancestors' disappointment in their enemies winning was justified after all the sacrifices they made for their cause, but he could still feel the weight of the future on his shoulders, could still remember all too well how he felt when the fate of their world had been shoved into his hands. And while Altaïr and Ezio had seemed willing to help as much as they could, bruises and exhaustion included, Desmond still felt somewhat guilty over the fact that he hadn't live up to their expectations. He shifted uncomfortably, hating to having to admit that out loud, but it was probably better that he'd be this honest with Lucy at least.
"I know. I think they were just not very impressed with me too. Not that I really blame them, they were both way more skilled at a younger age than me. I guess they were expecting the same out of me. But I think they would have liked you though."
And the bartender would rather not think of how he would have reacted to Ezio hitting on Lucy, because he was pretty sure the Italian would have done it just to spite him.
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"What the..." She stared, eyes wide as saucers, eyebrows somewhere near her hairline, mouth hanging open as she watched a bright pink pony singing. A little huff of shocked laughter escaped her and as subtly as she could, she pinched herself, just to make sure. "It's like some little kid cartoons that used to be on." She looked up at Desmond, ready to elbow him if he laughed at her but she couldn't exactly blame him because if it had been the other way round, she would have laughed too.
"Hey," she reached a hand up to give his shoulder a brief squeeze, "you're making up for the lost time now aren't you? And you can train here too." Those buildings might not have such benevolent architecture but Desmond could definitely go for a run or two. "Don't forget that they grew up differently: Altaïr was raised and the Third Crusade and that time period were very harsh to grow up in. And Ezio went into it for vengeance." Desmond's parents had to shoulder a portion of the blame for Desmond but Lucy didn't know them and they'd probably done what they thought best to prepare their son and keep him safe.
Oh, had she blushed slightly at that? No, of course not. Anyway, too dark to tell. "It would have been...daunting. Incredible. Maybe they'll show up again and I'll get the chance."
As flattering as it would be to have Ezio flirting with her, Altaïr would be more her speed: she'd seen just as much of Ezio's sex life as Desmond had.
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The novice shrugged lightly: "I know. And I did train a little with Altaïr while he was here. We played Assassin's Hide and Seek." Was there a small proud smile on his lips? One might think so: in truth, he had been thankful for the training he had then and while he hadn't impressed the Syrian per say, the man had still let him know that he might have had potential. The second part of his training, he kept it for himself, not wanting Lucy to worry over him.
"Maybe they will. And this time, you'll actually be around to explain them how the hell the Animus works. I don't think I was good enough to brief them on it."
Well, Altaïr seemed to have a preference for outdoor sex and if Lucy had voiced out her preference, Desmond would have conceded right there and then that she might know how to have fun.
They turned another corner and soon them found themselves back into civilization, the abandoned warehouse leaving ways for shops and restaurants. The bartender barely noticed the change: his mind was trying to figure out something Lucy had told him earlier.
"You said I was right there with you last time you checked. Where were we?"
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"You actually trained with him?" Just what was Assassin Hide and Seek even supposed to be? "Was that your idea or his?" Equal credit either way; Altaïr for actually proving he wasn't the jerk he'd been for the majority of what Lucy and Desmond had witnessed or Desmond for actually approaching his ancestor. Even if it had been the Syrian's idea, then Desmond deserved the credit for accepting the offer if it had been made. "What was it like? Getting to learn from them in person?"
She laughed then because yeah, she could pretty much picture Desmond trying to talk about it. "I promise that if they show up, you can send them my way and I'll sit them down and make sure they get it."
A preference Desmond would never, ever learn of.
"We were in Monteriggioni. Rebecca and Shaun were waiting for us while you and I went to find another way into the Sanctuary. You...you made a leap of faith without anyone even prompting you. And then we were trying to find our way up. We got to the door and then..." she shrugged, holding her palms up and sighing, "then I was here and you were saying it was about time I showed up. Have you been here long?"
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"Training with them was...harder than training in the Animus, that's for sure" he laughed almost sheepishly. That in itself had been a humbling experience and since then he had hit the gym at least every two day and jogged for an hour every morning. If he had really gained any weight from spending his time on the Animus, he probably had lost it all by now. Not that it really showed anyway. "But it was really interesting. It was all hands-on training too, so that wasn't much different than the Animus. But there are things that machine can't teach." Like actually being silent, or using the best strategy to hide or to pursuit a target.
"Good. Because I think I sounded more insane than anything else, to be honest."
The bartender frowned lightly as he listened to Lucy's last memory of their world and nodded again: "Yeah, I remember that." He kept to himself that he had actually dreamed of that instead of living it, as if watching his own memories through the Animus instead of his ancestors'. He had awaken with new sets of memories, his own and Ezio's, but he didn't want to put even more concern on the blond by his side. This world as a whole was enough to take in without him adding to it. "I can leap here too." And then there was a small, almost teasing smile on his lip: "I can show you if you want. How to leap, I mean." Because the Assassin's signature jump was probably the only thing he could ever teach her anyway.
There was a moment of awkward silence where he shifted uncomfortably, because Desmond felt this wouldn't be easy for his team mate to hear, most likely:
"I've been here for about seven months, Lucy."
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