#desmonddied

[bestxmployee-blog]

@desmond-died​||Continued from: x

[txt] I might have to demand a selfie to contest that.

[txt]  It’s Aurélie. Or ORLY. Or Helen. Or Noob.

[txt] I have a lot of names and a hangover okay? Which one are you again?

[bestxmployee-blog]

@desmond-died||Starter Call

An opportunity to transfer to California, all expenses paid to work in the sun, had Helen mentioned that she loved Abstergo? She loved Abstergo. You know, minus the whole no holidays until you’ve worked for a year or 3,000 hours thing. That had ruined the annual family trip to St Lucia. Not that she was bitter or anything, the opportunity to work at Abstergo was one she had never thought she’d be able to get when she’d applied as a graduate.

So perhaps she was a little bit too eager to make a good impression in hopes that they’d keep her forever.

“Sorry to be a nuisance, I’m sure you don’t get this a lot you’ve not got one of those faces but have we met before? Your face is...familiar.” 

[abdicated-father]

[Mass text to Lucy, Clay, Desmond, part one]: As much as I enjoy the knowledge that my son is fit and able to carry on his duties as an assassin (I notice your recent fitness regime is working out well for you, Desmond), I have zero interest in knowing how able he is to carry on in…other activities. I plan on speaking to you all personally on the matter one-on-one.

[Mass text to Lucy, Clay, Desmond, part two]: …is that a my little pony tattoo?

[abdicated-father]

thesumofhismemories​:

[Group Txt]:For scientific reasons, William, you must send me this picture. 

[Group Txt]:Scientific reasons only…looking at you, Lucy…

[Group txt]: If you're so desperate to see my son naked, instead of asking me, I suggest you'd have better luck in asking him. I've already deleted the photos from my phone.

[littlelostauditore]

[Closed for Desmond-died] First impressions

Spending the whole night wandering this place, trying not to freak out too much had at least one advantage: it allowed Ezio to come to the conclusion that whatever this strange place was, it wasn’t actually that different from the cities where he came from. Only much bigger, brighter, extravagant and noisy… He hadn’t even tried to sleep, he was too tense and on edge to even think about it. But he’d come to recognise patterns. People came in and out of places that could only be labelled shop, with bags and boxes, and got into those strange, hollow, and noisy creatures. Them and people seemed to have separate walkways, and both were regulated by shifting lights of green and red. All of this he’d observed safely from the darkness of smaller alleyways, and he’d also come to a painful conclusion: were he to get out in the open, he would stick out like a sore thumb… But he wasn’t ready to abandon his gear and robes somewhere to fit in better… So he remained hidden, a white shadow in Montreal. Until hunger hit, that is. He couldn’t see it well, but from what he could gather of the position of the sun, it was probably somewhere around midday, and he hadn’t eaten since God knew how long. His stomach growled, as if in confirmation, and he eyed a strange cart on a street ahead of him that seemed to sell what looked like… He wasn’t sure actually, it was long and he didn’t recognise it at all, but he could see people eating that, so it was food, probably. It was the worst moment of the day to come out unnoticed, but this cart offered one big advantage compared to the enclaved other places he’d seen people eat in. It was faster, and he didn’t have to come inside any buildings. Much easier to disappear this way. Steeling himself, Ezio moved out of the shadows and toward the cart, fetching out his money. “One, per favore.” He muttered when he got close enough, holding out his purse to the man, unsure of how much it would be. The man eyed him warily up and down for a second, then sneered, “What, you want a hotdog? Isn’t it a bit anachronistic for all that getup?” Most of that went right above Ezio’s head and he buried himself more deeply into his hood, selfconscious. But the man only shook his head and took the purse to peer inside. He froze, and turned angry. “What the hell’s that?! You trying to be funny?” he threw the purse back at Ezio, outraged. “This’ not a renaissance fair, here! Go away and make fun of someone else before I call the police!” Ezio’s eyes widened and he fled without protest, he didn’t want to bring too much attention to himself… This had been a bad idea, he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, but it really hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped at all. Back to the relative safety of a shadowed alley (and ignoring the ‘Hey man, you’ve got weird clothes’ coming from a drunkard in a corner), he reflected back on what had just happened. Obviously, it was the money that had angered the man, but upon closer inspection, he could see nothing wrong with it. Maybe the amount, then? No, he hadn’t even counted and Ezio was sure there was far enough for some meager piece of food like that… It was probably the money itself. It wouldn’t be too strange if the place here used a different currency, he should have expected this, even. At least there was an easy solution for this. Ezio shifted to his other sight and looked around. He couldn’t see any red near, that was good. And just as he was bout to shift back, a bright blue form strolled past him. “Perfetto,” He murmured under his breath, smirking, and went to follow. This was the perfect target, much less likely to lash out should they notice the assassin stealing their money. The street was also pleasantly packed, perfect for bumping into someone inconspicuously. And he did just that, bumping into the person with a small ‘Scusami’ and continuing on his way, his hand now full under his half cape, and the other person that much lighter.

[majorsamanthacarter]

"V. A world without religion, good, bad, neutral?" + "X. You can eliminate one of your five senses to substantially strengthen the others, which one and would you do it?", both mun and muse.

V. - ((Already answered! ^_^))X. You can eliminate one of your five senses to substantially strengthen the others, which one and would you do it?Muse:"Huh. In my work, all my senses are important. I’m assuming that you’re talking about the traditional ‘five senses’: smell, sight, taste, touch, hearing. When you travel to new worlds, you need all of your senses to take in and understand the world, and to evaluate the dangers and benefits of the new place. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t give up any of my senses. However, if I had to give up something, I’d probably give up my sense of taste. It’s the least crucial of my senses, and if the others were strengthened it might be worth the loss. I would miss eating blue jello, though!"Mun: ((If I had to choose to eliminate one of my senses, I would probably choose to lose my sense of smell. Taste would be my second choice, but eating when you can’t taste anything becomes a real burden, and since you need to eat a couple times a day it would be a huge pain in the butt. I wouldn’t do it, though. I love experiencing the world as fully as I can, and I want my writing to reflect all the senses and all the experiences I’ve been able to have, to more fully share and immerse the reader in the story. I’ll probably lose one or more of my senses one day, if I live long enough, but until then I’m going to enjoy them as much as I can!))

[abdicated-father]

thesumofhismemories reblogged your post and added:

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. In fact, this was so fucked that it took Clay a moment to snap back to reality. Shutting the door a little harder than it should have in his alert state.

"What happened? Did he tell you? Can he tell you? What does he need? Desmond, what do you need?"

The questions went flying in his panicked walk over to the couch where William had lain his son. He needed to get it together. Pull his old strength back to him. This was Desmond here, and he wasn’t going to flip shit around him, especially with a child in the house.

So he cleared his throat and tried again. “Medical supplies, right? Of course. Bill, do you know of anything that happened to him? Anything I’d for sure know how to fix?”

"Go for anything you're capable of doing. I needed a second pair of hands, regardless of their task." With Desmond flat out on the couch, William was trying to dress him down and assess the damage. Though he met a fair amount of resistance when Desmond refused to move his arms from when he'd locked them up around his waist.

"--he means you might have to hold me down if he's got to stitch me up or burn anything closed." Desmond hissed, voice low, but still holding enough tenacity to show he wasn't planning on passing out anywhere soon. His smile however, was weaker than his verbal bite. "--there was an ambush. End of my mission--" he cut off into a bitten back snarl when William cut through his pant leg and pulled back the denim from a particularly nasty gouge.

Desmond jerked up, teeth flashing at his father.

"Could you watch what you're doing?" "Could you hold still?"

The younger assassin fell back against the couch again, exhausted. "Just--took a slash to the stomach. I-I don't known how deep it goes, but I think I've got e-enough pressure on it to keep the bleeding down."

William rose up, lips drawn in a thin line. "--I'm getting towels and hot water. Get as much as you've got as far as supplies go--I've got a trunk in the back of my car with extras. The door's unlocked." And with that, he was gone out and down a hall.

On the couch, Desmond remained as still as he could--though it was difficult to stave off the urge to curl up. "I'll just--lay here." he dropped, "Guard the fort. You know."

[reconciliatory-yoga]

desmond-died replied to your post:I’M ALIIIIIVE SORT OF -FLOPS-

//AAAAAAAH :D congrats and hello.

; v; hiiiiiii

[humansubtlety]

NEVERMIND

I am so exhausted I can't stay awake I got in bed and that's that. Also @desmond-died FOREAL THO tumblr app sucks. Also I will be in touch for a possible rp <3 we'll talk about modern headcanons. NIGHT