smash_logs | [open] city log! Can I really be the hero?

[open] city log! Can I really be the hero?

Who: YOU and YOU and maybe you
What: catch-all open log for all your drug vigilante needs
Where: Final Destination City
When: WHENEVER YOU WANT
Warnings: drugs and vigilanting, at the very least
helpful links: here.

Indeed, ever since that casual Monday outing turned tragic, civil unrest and tensions have been high again in FDC, and worse yet; fingers are starting to be pointed in Smash Academy's direction. After long since flying under the radar of this whole mess, no attacks have happened on the school yet, but who's to say how long that will last?

The city is tumultuous. It's not impossible to still have a completely incident-less outing, but it would be wise to not go out and about with your Smash Academy uniforms on for all to see. Not unless you like fearful whispers and hissing insults behind your back. Even a simple trip to the grocery store could prove dangerous if you aren't careful.

Maybe you're a little more creative however, and are able to purposefully mask features that might otherwise identify you, or you sneak around in the dead of night using the shadows as your cover...

Humans now tend to segregate themselves with other humans, "freaks" tend to ostracize anyone not of their kin, and all this negativity intensifies rapidly if those colorful candy pops are present. Crime and riots are now common than occasional. The FDC Police manages most of the affairs but they can't prevent everything, and would probably appreciate a helping hand regardless if it's from a human or a "freak"... though thanks and courtesy may go one way or another depending on who/what you are.

Who knows, maybe you'll save someone's life and give them a better appreciation for the things you do instead of what you are...

[[As it says on the tin, HERE'S AN OPEN LOG, GO NUTS. Get together with some of your buddies and go play masked vigilante against a group of drug thugs bullying someone who doesn't deserve it (or maybe they do, for all you know). Save someone from a burning building set on fire by some angry social justice warrior animals. Escort someone to the grocery store. Break into the sheriff's office and demand your own brand of justice. Maybe you simply want to get a drink at the bar without incident.

Please feel free to NPC your bad guys/mooks/innocent civilians, or go snag Kat or one of the other lovely lady mods if you have any questions.

ONE RULE: you must use anime thread titles. That's all.

Edit: I lied. Rule 2: tag yourselves in.]]

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"...am I seriously a bartender in the afterlife?"

~~yeah that's what that means.~~

"You claim you are not crazy but you keep spewing nonsense," Connor said, in a hundred percent disbelief.

"Who ARE you? What concerns me is how you know my name."

Are you kidding him, Connor? He wouldn't even know where to start on how he came across that information. It was plaguing him on whether or not to be honest. You'd think one of his ancestors in the afterlife would know him, but it had been a few hundred years and such. Maybe that just isn't how that worked.

Well, doesn't hurt to give him a name. "Uh, right! I'm Desmond. And - " With a pointed finger - "I'm not crazy. I know you but I don't think you'd believe me if I told you how."

There. Hopefully that would settle him down a bit. He'd seen Connor kill tens of men in mere moments. He wasn't about to aim to piss this guy off and go and get himself killed again. (What even happened after death if you died again?) All things considered, Desmond had about a thousand questions of his own, but he wasn't nearly as annoyed as grandpa here.

"Okay then. Desmond."

Maybe he was marginally calmer. Maybe. But you needed to stop beating around the bush. Connor sat in his chair comfortably. Nnnnoooot going anywhere. He can wait allllllll day.

"If you want me to believe that then you must give me some information. To my knowledge, I do not know anyone by the name 'Desmond'. That name is hard to forget."

"Not like your name," Desmond started. Unable to help himself. "I forget 'Ratonhnhaké:ton' all the time." Mostly because he could barely repeat it, but he'd gotten good at it. Thanks, Bleeding Effect™!

Figuring he'd already gone this far, it didn't hurt to spew his birth name. Desmond leaned against the counter to keep his voice down, staring at the slick brown top with little thought for how clean he had kept it. The light reflected dimly as a suitable distraction from looking at the man he was regarding right in the face. It wasn't as weird as it could've been but nevertheless...

"Well... What if I told you I'm from your future? Like waaaay into the future?" Let's start this slow because jesus christ, this was gonna take a minute.

Whoa, hold the phone. Again. His real name. The name his mother gave him.

This guy knew it. Just...WHO WAS THIS GUY??? Finally, Connor widened his eyes. You did it, you broke him just a little. He cracked. Only his people called him by that name. Achilles heard it, but decided it was too hard so he then had adopted his son's.

Okay no, time to get himself to together. And try to absorb what he just learned.

"I suppose you would call this place the future in comparison to my time."

He already knew that part, in other words. Future didn't shock him anymore. Just confused him. So okay.

"So you are...from MY future?"

"Yes..." And with a response likely to annoy Connor once again, "And no."

It was at a point that Desmond wasn't entirely sure what was safe to tell him. Connor was here (wherever here was) and that was already an issue in regards to time. He'd seen movies, read some books and comics. You don't fuck with time.
Heck, in the Animus, it would cause desynchronization to stray from how history had run its course, but this wasn't the Animus. Not that he was aware of. Not unless Rebecca and Shaun were playing a sick joke on him. He didn't hear his father barking at them about getting back on track.

It was right then that Desmond felt a softness in his heart to realize he had just been patching things up with his father before shit went down. However it came and went, more important matters at hand. He had this ancient father to deal with.

"I'm from the year 2012," Desmond edged closer to where he was going with this. "I'm an assassin, like you."

... That came easier to say than he thought. Than it ever had before.

It was probably best to lay it on him slow like that. He wasn't as annoyed now because this answered something.

He sat for a second as if trying to let this soak.

An Assassin. Here.

He thought he was the only one. One from this time. Well 2012...this was 2013, just months.

He just took a hand and placed it on the bridge of his nose for now. Dead silence.

A flood of questions brewed inside, he had no idea what to ask first.

Considering their location, it slowly began to sink into Desmond what Connor must be feeling. In fact, he could very easily relate. Waking up in a world hundreds of years removed from your own, whether in the past or future - It didn't really matter. The displacement was nothing short of uncomfortable, and even if you became used to it, it was never yours. Whether the times or technology were for better or worse, the sensation of being outside of it always came at a cost.

At least Desmond was where he chronologically belonged, even if the location was a mystery.

At least... he assumed he was. The looks of the world seemed no more or less different than what he knew.

In any case, he certainly hoped he hadn't just broken the brain of his ancestor. Speaking of which, he wondered if it would even be safe to reveal exactly how he was related to Connor in the first place. Maaaybe a little slower than that would be worth the effort.

"And..." C'mon, Desmond... "I know a guy who happens to think he knows everything there is to know." And can be a real dick about that sometimes. "I wouldn't say all that but he definitely has his history in order. That's why I know who you are."

He wasn't really lying, at any rate, right?

Edited (add words, get bacon) 2013-05-08 23:40 (UTC)

"That is..."

Dumb. Though Connor got it that that is what the guy acts like and shown no outer feelings on that.

He could perhaps sympathize with that, being around people who act like they know everything.

Now something then came up and started eating at him. History? Connor made history? Oh, he was sure no one was ever going to mention him. He didn't want it either...

"...Are there others like us? Who know of us?"

He seemed now he was overly curious.

Edited (dammit he needs to keep his hood on) 2013-05-09 00:52 (UTC)

Desmond didn't need to consider Connor's question carefully. It could very easily be answered, in fact. Yeah, he thought. Not as many as there were, but yeah. The Templars, unfortunately, made sure of that.

Despite the response lingering at the tip of Desmond's tongue, he was caught up in observing the man before him and without reservations, he offered a genuine smile. Desmond hadn't forgotten what Connor had gone through and as to what he could be feeling within this moment. That history hadn't left him or what he had done behind. It made Desmond want to tell him everything. Tell him he understood him on a level no one else might have in this world.

Desmond wasn't a man of a thousand eloquent words, however. All he had was his eased posture to tell Connor he trusted him. He did. He could. He knew who this man was and what he truly believed. It was what drove the final nail into his own destiny.

"Yeah," Desmond finally offered. "Yeah, there are."

He had so many questions. So many. But how much could he go in public? Probably none of it. It was hard to get into this now.

This Desmond. He would understand probably more than Connor would ever think at first. If he knew of HIM, how much did he actually know? To this day, do the Assassins still fight the long fight? Against the Templars as well?

What about Desmond himself? How did he come into the Brotherhood? Who else could he mean? Connor had heard that, to this day, America was still independent and free. He'd wondered how much the land had changed...

Again, so many questions.

To see Desmond smile eased Connor up completely. It finally did sink in that it was nice to see someone from his world that wasn't a Templar.

"I...do not know what to say," Connor said, "I have so many more questions and yet..."

"Yeah, I bet," Desmond chuckled, turning toward the bar and glancing around at the drinks. He wondered what would be good for Connor's palate, and instinctively he reached for the last thing he ever saw the man drink. Whether it was a good or bad idea he was unsure of, but they didn't need too much in their system. Perhaps just some familiarity would do the trick. Not that your common day beers would be at all familiar to Connor, but he could get close.

Grabbing two beers as close to a pale ale as he could find (this bar - wherever it was - had an unusual variety readily available, which seemed strange to Desmond and only further convinced him he was dead) and broke them both open with a quick snap against the counter. The caps popped right off and left them with two drinks waiting to be had. Who needed bottle openers? Please. He was a trained Assassin, son, accuracy was his game.

... But no, really, thank god he didn't break those necks. That would've been hella embarrassing.

Desmond slid the water-kissed umber bottle on a coaster toward his newfound companion with a healthy serving of a cool grin.

"You and me both. Let me ask you one, though." A fairly important one, considering Connor was almost 250 years older than he was but they occupied the same room, healthy as oxen. "Where are we? How are you here?" A beat. "Okay, that was two, but you were grilling me earlier."

Oh.

Connor tried to motion with his hands that the drink wasn't necessary. He didn't come here for a drink after all. But too late, the ale was placed next to him. Or...was it ale? It was in an odd looking bottle.

A Buttwieser?

That was okay, he could look appreciative of it and not really drink it. It was nice of him after all. And besides, Connor could admit he was a bit rude before. Asking questions or not, it wasn't really necessary. The man in front of him was an Assassin; whatever could've went through Connor's mind before he knew that fact would have him be mistaken.

"...You are right, and I am sorry for that," Connor said as he motioned the beer closer, just to acknowledge that Desmond's gesture didn't go unnoticed.

"I assume this means you have just arrived? This place is called Final Destination City. I had came on accident just shy of two months ago. I was then told to stay at this place called Smash Academy. I am sure you have heard of it; it is a...prestigious school here."

Yeah those were the words.

"I guess? Feels more like I just came off a two-day bender and woke up at work," Desmond confessed, which made one wonder if this had happened before. HM. Desmond.

The name of the city, though? That name? "Final Destination... City?" Wow. For assuming he was dead and all... "That sure, uh, sounds pretty final." Maybe he wasn't as far from the truth as he speculated.

Just as he bordered asking Connor if this bar was called the Styx, he paused on the name of the school. A school? In the afterlife?

"Can't say I've ever heard of the place, to be honest," Desmond pondered aloud. No matter how many times he mentally repeated the name of the school in his brain, he came up empty. "Still, hard to believe you just went on a walk and took a turn at the wrong tree and wound up in the future." Would it be wise to suggest that they were likely just both, y'know, dead?

It was then Desmond glanced toward the door again. Gruff voices buried by aggression, laid on thick enough to make Desmond's heart skip a cautious beat. He kept his eyes on it, trying to grasp what he was hearing outside. Were they someone either Assassin needed to worry about? So much for resting in peace.

"Is something going on out there?" He asked, changing the subject to possibly more pressing matters.

"Well...you did say you have just arrived..."

Connor was sure they weren't dead. Ppprrreeetty sure. Dead people don't eat and feel things do they?

Uh. Yeah.

"...I am not sure of the city's history. It is an odd name..."

Yyyyeahhh. Hahaha okay, he was going to listen in too. Hrm. He caught them on his peripheral vision. Hrm.

"Yes. Yes there is. Tension is about this town. Drugs and discrimination which both brewed into fights. Several people have been killed."

"Oh," Desmond responded, as if there wasn't anything to worry about. "Same shit, different day, huh?" But he did say that with an air of disappointment and for good reason.

He didn't know exactly what he had been expecting after he touched the Eye, what it would mean for the world around him. It didn't really strike him until right then, but aside from stopping a disaster of catastrophic proportions, no one truly knew, did they? No one had any idea they had almost died. That the world had just skirted the apocalypse as much of humanity had always suspected would fall upon them.

In the end, Desmond was just some guy that died in a cavern no one outside their secret war knew even existed. He couldn't help but laugh bitterly, crestfallen by such dark thoughts.

It pissed him off on some level, yeah, but when he looked at Connor, there was an impact beneath his breast that left him momentarily winded. What Connor fought for, what he believed - it made Desmond remember why he did it in the first place.

He smiled again because he believed that humanity would find a way. He had faith they could come together and even though it sounded like people still pretty much sucked sometimes, that was worth saving the entire world for.

Ugh, did he have plenty to think about. Now probably wasn't the best time. Many questions still lingered and Desmond really needed to focus on the here and now. He had doubts that Connor would be able to answer anything he needed to ask anyway.

It was then Desmond realized, "You asked me about some drugs earlier." He smirked. "Let me guess: You're investigating." That was just like Connor, wasn't it? Drugs and discrimination were an unfortunate reality they faced even in the year 2012, but it was typically left for the police to deal with. Something in his gut told him that it (at least discrimination in particular) hit a sore spot for the man in front of him, though.

Edited (little tweak) 2013-05-28 03:47 (UTC)

You know, Desmond. If you guys went into a talk of humanity, it would've been very interesting. Connor, even after all the shit that happened to him, he still had faith in humanity. Then again, if they talked about a lot of things it would be interesting. Because Desmond was right about a lot of things.

Connor had no idea what was up with Desmond, but the more he talked...the more curious Connor was. Where did he come from exactly? What life did he lead? As an Assassin? Who else was there? What did he fight for?

All for another time, this was certainly not the last meeting after all.

Especially since he seemed to know a lot about Connor and how he felt. He nodded.

"I am. This is a growing problem and it must be stopped. Have you seen anyone suspicious in this bar?"

"You mean besides you and me?" Desmond joked, taking a quick chug of his beer. He exhaled the sharp gas through his nose and gave it a little rub, smirking. "Nope." Desmond took a moment to consider if what he was about to say was only going to amplify the effect of how mad he must sound, but in the same vein, he felt he had Connor's trust enough to get away with the impression of being a tad crazy. "Honestly?" He tilted his beer bottle thoughtfully, knowing that honesty would be a half-truth at best. "I can't really remember much of anything before talking to you."

Edited 2013-05-31 15:59 (UTC)

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[open] city log! Can I really be the hero?

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p.s. this thread makes me happy

I am glad our derps have that effect on you

C':

8'D

Re: 8'D

8''''''''''D

no take the hood off bb you'll sparkle in the bar lights

/blushes all in this thread

ME TOO jfc /BLUSHCAT

/melts

FOREVER LATER.... Sorry ;3;

I would wait forever

ouo HUHUHUHU

OvO

TY FOR WAITING OAO