[Let's not even acknowledge the frustration he felt when realization set in -- again -- that he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Been there, done that. Good thing he recognized the Forge, remembered that the thing functioned much like any other of the fancy gadgets T-Mobile was hocking these days, and... yeah. also remembered that the immediate ( Read more... )

[So. Here's a chap you haven't seen in a while.

Desmond Miles looks pissy. He's pretty good at it, see, though he hasn't worn this particular expression since he first got here and was chased to happy Hell and back by Ogres. Nope, life's been relatively good for our babby assassino.

But this string thing's gotta go.]So, what-- am I s'posed to ( Read more... )

( To tell how to get wealthy is easy / When your fortune's already made / But the man in the yoke will think it no joke / To make millions by his trade. )

[Cue camera.]

[Desmond looks downright annoyed.]

So much for the market, yeesh. Just got my ass booted outta there by a guy who looked like a goddamn shaved bear. I was gonna pay for that shit! But he comes at me all nyeh nyeh nyeh! [and cue Des making... possibly the most sarcastic face you've seen yet, exaggerated by flailing hand gestures, the ( Read more... )

[The sky is spinning.

You sick yet?

A Forge has been whapped right out of our man's hands while he's figuring it out, sending the thing skipping like a flat river stone across a downtown avenue wrecked with chaos, activating the video. A string of expletives is heard far off, growing closer with jogging footsteps nearer, nearer, and the ( Read more... )

( filtered to himself; )

-- Crap.

[ Some muffled swearing, the sound of scrabbling concrete. That goes on for a bit before there's a sharp inhale of breath, and he's finally speaking again. ]

Uh.

I think I'm officially homeless. With all that fucking murder shit going on, too, just great.

[ A beat. ]

Hey, uh, does anyone have some extra room?

[ ooc: ffff i haven't ( Read more... )

Someone seems to like carving random shit in the stone.

[ footsteps on concrete, a rush of wind. he's actually pacing around on a rooftop. because real assassins don't stay in rooms. ]

-- Does anyone want to play creepy poetry detective? I've got fuck all else to do, anyway.

[ a brief pause, and the wind gets a touch louder, as though he's ( Read more... )

This place kind of sucks, but at least there isn't a typhoon warning every couple of hours.

[ There's a loud sigh, and the drumming of fingers against a wooden surface. He's just killing time, thinking of something to talk about. ]

I was a bartender before being dragged here against my will. Does anyone need that kind of a thing? [ A laugh, and ( Read more... )

[ Have a burst of static, and a flurry of what sounds like someone randomly mashing buttons in an attempt to figure out how the weird vintage-palmtop-looking-thing actually works. ]

-- like some kind of messed up sci-fi piece of shit, come on. Oh, it's -- Is this damn thing on now?

Hello? Okay.

[ There's a bit of a silence, as though he's ( Read more... )