Unexpected Reunion
Aug. 20th, 2012 06:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
esp_dragonFandom: Assassin's Creed/Prototype
Summary: Desmond decides to do a bit of exploring of Manhattan and stumbles across an unexpectedly familiar face.
Rating: PG-13
Contains: Swearing
Notes: Post-P1, but bringing it forward to the same timescale as VitM (i.e. P1 happened in September 2012, and it's currently mid-October). Spoilers up to Revelations for Assassin's Creed.
Oh, self, why you do this? orz;;;;
Titles, yeah, I hate them. ORZ
Genre: General
Word count: 699
Status: Work in progress
There was only so much Desmond could take being cooped up in the safehouse before he started getting antsy. Everyone checking on him every couple of minutes to make sure he hadn't fallen into another coma was nice, but it didn't really help either.
So here he was, standing on top of some fifty-storey building, peering over the edge and wondering if now was the best time to see how well his body was working. He was doing all right against his dad (better than all right; he'd never been able to land a hit on his dad back on the Farm, and now he could knock him flat in three blows), but this wasn't going to be the same as parkouring around fifteenth century Italy – there weren't nearly as many hand or footgrips on buildings (if there were any at all) and there weren't any ropes connecting rooftops either.
Desmond yanked his attention away from his thoughts when he became aware of a regular 'thump thump thump' accompanied by a high-pitched crunch that sounded like trodden-on glass. That couldn't be right – it sounded like it was coming closer and the only way Desmond's brain was translating the sounds was as someone running up the building.
He got his answer a couple of seconds later when something shot up from the side of the roof furthest away from him, trailing red mist in its wake. It landed with a crack, a miniature crater under his feet and Desmond blinked as the form finally settled into the shape of a man wearing a leather jacket over a dark hoodie. The other man moved his head towards him and then took a step to the left before hesitating, turning back to Desmond, gazing at him intently.
"Uh, hi." Nothing to see here, just a guy standing on the roof. As confident Desmond was in his own skills, he was pretty sure fighting someone that could run up walls and weighed more than a car would be one of the worst decisions he could make.
"…Huh."
That did not sound good. Warily, Desmond tried to remember the snippets of information Shaun had thrown in his direction when they'd first arrived in Manhattan, hoping there was something useful buried there. Mercer virus, zombies, quarantine…
Wait. Mercer virus. Desmond gaped as additional information slotted into place; information from before Desmond was kidnapped, before all the shit with being put into the Animus, when he'd been in hiding. The last time he was in Manhattan.
"Doctor Mercer?" he blurted out incredulously. There had always been a faint feeling of familiarity whenever he'd heard the name, but at the time, Desmond had thought it was because he'd heard the name so often in the background that his brain had unconsciously picked it up. Except Desmond had met Doctor Mercer when he'd been bartending – the only reason the other man had stood out for him was his insistence of being called by his title, being an arrogant dick, and paying some nice tips now and then, depending on how his research had gone.
Desmond got a bit of narrowed eyes as a response, but it was softened by an amused smirk. Slightly.
"Surprised, Desmond?"
Yeah, considering how he was pretty damn sure Mercer hadn't even been able to run a block the last time Desmond had seen him and now he really wished he'd spent some time reading over Shaun's files. But… Desmond squinted at Mercer – he'd never called him by his name before; hell, he didn't think Mercer even knew his name.
Mercer studied him for another minute before snorting, shaking his head. Without another word, Mercer jogged to the other edge of the building and then launched himself into the air, jumping far higher and further than any human could, leaving the red mist behind him again.
Desmond let out a long breath, just watching him get further and further into the distance.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Desmond put the thought of throwing himself across buildings away and started to go back to the rooftop door. Maybe he'd spend the next couple of hours reading up on what had happened in Manhattan instead…
______________________________________________
…So, this Assassin's safehouse is in the same building as Dana's hideout, yes. XDDD
No idea how plot could progress from here, since Dana's still out of it, so. (ahaha, yey?) Although…now that I'm thinking about it, I guess this'll turn into rooftop conversations between the two of them? (And then eventually Alex warning Desmond that their safehouse has been compromised, AND I SHOULD REALLY STOP NOW.And Desmond doing some reading up on the outbreak and aaaaaaah) …You know what? *changes the status* *sigh*
Summary: Desmond decides to do a bit of exploring of Manhattan and stumbles across an unexpectedly familiar face.
Rating: PG-13
Contains: Swearing
Notes: Post-P1, but bringing it forward to the same timescale as VitM (i.e. P1 happened in September 2012, and it's currently mid-October). Spoilers up to Revelations for Assassin's Creed.
Oh, self, why you do this? orz;;;;
Titles, yeah, I hate them. ORZ
Genre: General
Word count: 699
Status: Work in progress
There was only so much Desmond could take being cooped up in the safehouse before he started getting antsy. Everyone checking on him every couple of minutes to make sure he hadn't fallen into another coma was nice, but it didn't really help either.
So here he was, standing on top of some fifty-storey building, peering over the edge and wondering if now was the best time to see how well his body was working. He was doing all right against his dad (better than all right; he'd never been able to land a hit on his dad back on the Farm, and now he could knock him flat in three blows), but this wasn't going to be the same as parkouring around fifteenth century Italy – there weren't nearly as many hand or footgrips on buildings (if there were any at all) and there weren't any ropes connecting rooftops either.
Desmond yanked his attention away from his thoughts when he became aware of a regular 'thump thump thump' accompanied by a high-pitched crunch that sounded like trodden-on glass. That couldn't be right – it sounded like it was coming closer and the only way Desmond's brain was translating the sounds was as someone running up the building.
He got his answer a couple of seconds later when something shot up from the side of the roof furthest away from him, trailing red mist in its wake. It landed with a crack, a miniature crater under his feet and Desmond blinked as the form finally settled into the shape of a man wearing a leather jacket over a dark hoodie. The other man moved his head towards him and then took a step to the left before hesitating, turning back to Desmond, gazing at him intently.
"Uh, hi." Nothing to see here, just a guy standing on the roof. As confident Desmond was in his own skills, he was pretty sure fighting someone that could run up walls and weighed more than a car would be one of the worst decisions he could make.
"…Huh."
That did not sound good. Warily, Desmond tried to remember the snippets of information Shaun had thrown in his direction when they'd first arrived in Manhattan, hoping there was something useful buried there. Mercer virus, zombies, quarantine…
Wait. Mercer virus. Desmond gaped as additional information slotted into place; information from before Desmond was kidnapped, before all the shit with being put into the Animus, when he'd been in hiding. The last time he was in Manhattan.
"Doctor Mercer?" he blurted out incredulously. There had always been a faint feeling of familiarity whenever he'd heard the name, but at the time, Desmond had thought it was because he'd heard the name so often in the background that his brain had unconsciously picked it up. Except Desmond had met Doctor Mercer when he'd been bartending – the only reason the other man had stood out for him was his insistence of being called by his title, being an arrogant dick, and paying some nice tips now and then, depending on how his research had gone.
Desmond got a bit of narrowed eyes as a response, but it was softened by an amused smirk. Slightly.
"Surprised, Desmond?"
Yeah, considering how he was pretty damn sure Mercer hadn't even been able to run a block the last time Desmond had seen him and now he really wished he'd spent some time reading over Shaun's files. But… Desmond squinted at Mercer – he'd never called him by his name before; hell, he didn't think Mercer even knew his name.
Mercer studied him for another minute before snorting, shaking his head. Without another word, Mercer jogged to the other edge of the building and then launched himself into the air, jumping far higher and further than any human could, leaving the red mist behind him again.
Desmond let out a long breath, just watching him get further and further into the distance.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Desmond put the thought of throwing himself across buildings away and started to go back to the rooftop door. Maybe he'd spend the next couple of hours reading up on what had happened in Manhattan instead…
…So, this Assassin's safehouse is in the same building as Dana's hideout, yes. XDDD
No idea how plot could progress from here, since Dana's still out of it, so. (ahaha, yey?) Although…now that I'm thinking about it, I guess this'll turn into rooftop conversations between the two of them? (And then eventually Alex warning Desmond that their safehouse has been compromised, AND I SHOULD REALLY STOP NOW.