♟ the martyr.

Indie post-ACIII Desmond Miles. Semi-selective, semi-active. Written by Ame. Mobile links.

[abiitmanes]

knock knock 👀

[guardiixn-blog]

“I run into them way too often. I wouldn’t really mind, but my brother’s the sheriff, so it’s kind of awkward when he has Betty bail me out. Or when he gives me three hour long lectures about how embarrassing I am in front of his colleagues.” He says, looking up to the other with curiosity.

“I never caught your name.” Delsin mentions casually, before looking back to the night sky while he waited for the other to help fill the silence.

[abiitmanes]

“Oh, yeah -- that probably would be awkward.” Despite the guy’s brother being the sheriff, it didn’t seem to stop him from spray painting and definitely explained why he booked it the moment he had noticed someone else. “At least it’s just lectures, they’re pretty harmless.” Desmond won’t volunteer information or swap stories about his strict dad and the sorts of training he had to endure as a kid, that was the past.

“It’s Ellis,” he replied when the guy asked his name, because of course it was a lie but hey, lies slipped off the tongue so easily for him anymore. “Yours?”

[abiitmanes]

“You better get off your ass this year and vote -- I’ll be pissed if you don’t.”

[tctheark-deactivated20201109]

Ｔｏ  Ｔｈｅ  Ａｒｋ ✘ “Guh —— ” The blunt impact catching him equally off guard and                                        leaving him struggling to regain balance. He wasn’t sure what                                        made him stay, his feet suddenly glued to the ground, staring up      YOU ARE NOT         mouth agape; maybe this was FEAR? Despite being a delayed           AFRAID               recovery, forsaking any initial plans of keeping his mask clean                                       [ better than giving this guy any further details for a POLICE                                       REPORT ] a hand roughly jerked it back down. He’d been good so                                       far; getting caught hadn’t been in the plan.

                                      Stifled breathes more like struggled pants, { GET OUT OF THERE!                                       } stitched orbs rising to find the stranger’s gaze juggling between                                       him and the pipe; shit, shit, shit! Barely finding time to pay any mind                                       mind to the change of demeanor, his own gaze shifted to the alley-                                       way he’d just emerged from and damn it all — Brian still had a                                       moral compass.

                                      Blindly reaching for the guy’s arm, his movements abrupt and                                       altogether UNSTABLE to the point he wouldn’t have trusted him-                                       self back then. But survival was instinctual now. Even if said in- HE IS NOT TRUSTED  stinct was yelling to leave this guy behind. “We gotta go,” voice HE IS NOT TRUSTED  hoarse and s h a k y, “Now.” HE IS NOT ——

[abiitmanes]

Thoughts raced through his head, all sending different signals past just the usual fight or flight impulse -- the mask, the pipe, the bloodstains -- it all pointed to the stranger having just beaten someone’s face in. But the question of why also rose up at such an inopportune moment, eliminating the possibility of self-defense. Was it a gang initiation, or was he just some stray psycho? Either way, the answers all pointed to not-fucking-good.

     [ Get ready, his instincts screamed. ]

There was an initial flinch away from the stranger’s hand as he reached out, grasping at the bartender’s arm and tugging, ragged tone telling him that they had to go, insisting to do so now. There was a part of Desmond that wanted to look around, to jerk his arm away from the man’s grip, to demand some kind of answer, but the other part of him, the Assassin side, recognized the sense of urgency and understood to ask while on the way. So, he simply nodded, wasting not another moment as he fell into step with the stranger. He might’ve been heading towards something very dangerous with this guy, or even away from danger, though that wouldn’t explain the blood.

“If I’m going with you -- I want answers, dude.”

[abiitmanes]

"Des-kun, it seems as though you're always working. When's your next day off?" He puts his glass down for a refill, and says, "There's a movie showing now that looks nice. Let's go."

“Oh--” he began, reaching over and refilling the other’s drink for him. He was just going through the motions of his job -- definitely time for a break. “I thought you were the workaholic. But I bet I could get off early, it’s slow enough tonight. What movie?”

[chamiryokuroi]

Fighting together.

I am so happy with how this came out, you have no idea.

EDIT

Why do I always forget Desmond’s tattoo??

[guardiixn-blog]

@abiitmanes

[abiitmanes]

@caiiira ❤’d this thing

He had just said goodbye to his coworkers, relieved to actually be off early for once, the time still in the double digits before the clock reset. Maybe the universe didn’t hate him as badly as it liked to make him think. Desmond paused at the alleyway exit of the club, zipping up his hoodie over his black button-up shirt, taking a moment to shiver and exhale a chilled breath by finishing with flipping up his hood, pulling it past the strap of his bag. He shoved his hands into his pockets, aware of just how underprepared he was for the approaching winter, starting to walk out of the alley. Laughter down the street had prompted him to glance over, seeing people still ready to pour into the club -- but it had been a mistake, given that he had gone directly into some guy.

“Oh! Shit, sorry man. Wasn’t looking.”

[abiitmanes]

“This reminds me, the other day I was at the store and heard some guy on the speaker in some ad like all excited about cooking, but then it turned out it was Martha Stewart.”

[atruetactician-deactivated20190]

@abiitmanes continued from x

“Then why bother? Why not do something more constructive. Trust me, your liver will thank you.”

Desmond seemed a little like Jacob in terms of alcohol. She really didn’t need another to look after.

[abiitmanes]

“I think it’s the culture. Since I bartend and all that.” He’s not about to tell her the fact that he’s actually a hell of a lot better than he used to be, that he doesn’t stick around after his shifts for drinks and dancing anymore. Yet despite the thought, Desmond afforded a bit of a laugh. “A bartender who quits drinking is like trusting a skinny chef, I’d get fired within the week.”

[abiitmanes]

@baseballbcy ❤’d this thing

“Fuck -- I can’t believe I forgot Halloween is coming up.” He didn’t look particularly pleased by the revelation, like a man resigning himself to his fate instead. “You got plans, dressing up or anything?”

[managone]

      ❝That won’t be an issue because they’re not gonna be IN my room! I .. think. Yeah, there’s no way. Stop trying to scare me, you’re rude.❞

[abiitmanes]

“I mean, unless you live in a bubble they’re gonna get in. Through ventilation and the foundation and stuff. I’m just being realistic. Why do they freak you out so bad anyways? They’re good guys.”

[themarkerkillcr-a-deactivated20]

                         SLOWLY AND ALMOST reluctantly Clarke holsters his weapon from under the counter, despite his rigid stance he doubts anything violent will be coming of his. At least from Desmond. Both hands now resting atop of the counter he eyes the young Assassin, unsure if his reaction is a typical one amongst Assassins ( it’s not like he’s personally met many or anything. )

❝ They don’t, ❞ he says simply, his tone short indicating he’s not about to explain the whys of his decision to leave. Not here at least, he doubts that’ll go over real well. ❝ But you’re right on the money, ❞ he adds as he finally takes his glass to drink from. It doesn’t taste too good.

There’s a short silence as Clarke considers his next words, in truth he hadn’t exactly planned what he’d do once he tracked the Assassin down with the entire meeting not ending with violence. ❝ I didn’t think you’d come back to bartending after you were caught ? ❞ Obviously he’d poked into Desmond’s files.

[abiitmanes]

Maybe later he’d think back upon this instance and laugh about it -- it was funny, two guys who were basically out of their organizations and in hiding, pretending everything was normal when they were facing off what should’ve been some serious enemy. But life was funny like that, and he found that rolling with the punches sometimes didn’t go half as bad as he expected. It didn’t mean that he’d lower his guard around the other still, even as the man finally took a sip from his drink. Desmond was just a little too cynical for that, aware that even though they silently agreed not to duke it out, their hackles were probably still raised at one another. 

     Birds of a feather, or something like that.

The former Templar’s words only brought a slight frown to the bartender’s face as he continued with his work. He was expecting words like that, but from someone else -- and well, now that he found some aspirations in life, it wasn’t a job he felt too proud of anymore. “Gotta eat somehow. They don’t ask too many questions here.” It was ironic that somehow, it was like they could be more honest to one another through these circumstances, even if there was no chance of them trusting each other anytime soon. But man, was he tempted to take the bait and ask the other guy just how much he knew about him, just how much information Abstergo had collected upon him, if a certain magic space wizard was making a scene there. “Maybe their files haven’t caught up to me yet anyways, so I’m not too worried.”

[abiitmanes]

hey yo ❤ this post for a starter!

[abiitmanes]

@xanodite / cont.

“Not on you, but probably in your room somewhere. What’re you gonna do if I won’t be there to kill them for you?”

burned cinnamon roll, has literally been through hell and back, slightly charred 

[abiitmanes]

“Shark Week, man. How do you not watch that? A whole week of sharks.”

supernatural sentence starters / / sure, I’ll take ‘em

“I mean, I don’t have cable for starters.” It’d be better for him to not know just what he was missing out on probably. “But I guess I try to catch up on sleep or exercise instead of watching tv anyways.”

[abiitmanes]

“Can you even get drunk anymore? It’s kind of like drinking a vitamin for you.”

supernatural sentence starters / / sure, I’ll take ‘em

“Well--” he began, glancing down to the beer in his hand. “I guess it’s just habit, you know? I’d have to go hard in on some shots or something to get trashed, but then again I don’t really drink to get drunk anymore.”