sixthiterationlogs | dog days are only starting

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dog days are only starting

WHO: Vasquez
WHERE: South Village, River
WHEN: February 7
OPEN TO: All!
WARNINGS: n/a

If anyone had seen Vasquez when he'd been a wolf, it's only poetic justice that all of this is happening to him now.

Where before, he'd been the one to roam wild, not he's the one running. He'd opened the box in the north village, but almost instantly, the dog had been spooked by the kirin and had taken off, running and yipping (and probably terrified down to his little bones). He'd had a terrible moment of debating whether he should go after it before deciding that there were too many cruel things living in the shadows and no animal should be left to that.

Of course, what he didn't count on was how much of a fool he was going to look chasing after it, whistling after an animal that didn't even have a name. It's a good looking animal, one that he's seen herd sheep before, but running away like this means now Vasquez is the shepherd. He's already run back to the south village from the north and he looks it, panting and coughing (he really wants a smoke, too, but it's not the time).

He sees his chance when the animal is lapping up water at the stream. Chest heaving, he begins to creep up on it, ready to take his chance. He hunches over and tries to get all six-foot-four of him as close to the ground as he can, advancing until he's nearly on his knees. He readies himself, like a coil, and waits to spring forward.

Of course, his little dog decides he's all done with drinking, bounding away with a yip, right as Vasquez goes face-down into the stream, muttering and cursing. Sitting back, he swipes at his face and spits to the side, cursing in Spanish as he glares at the dog.

"You know, I could feed you to the kirin," he warns, even as the animal comes licking his cheek, like he's rubbing Vasquez's face in his idiocy. "Or the boar. Or any of the other animals."

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Desmond smiles, because ... you know what yeah, he'd like that. He might not be an expert, but it would give him something to do, and he was literally always looking for something to do that wasn't sitting in the dark. He was getting better, but it was still going to take some time before he found a life of his own. "Sure, sounds fun. I've been up there more often these days anyway, Bull and I are getting a brewery together, so people can actually have a drink." As Vasquez already knows, Desmond's very good at bartending.

"Hey, so how are things going with your guy? You still getting blue balls because of him, or have you two sorted it out?" He is invested, he figures this place is weird enough as it is, people might as well enjoy themselves.

Vasquez raises his brow and now he's much more interested in talking about the brewery, never mind Faraday. In fact, he thinks if Faraday knew about the brewing, then he would feel the same, even if he's not planning to say that out loud.

"No, I think maybe you tell me more about your brewing and where, so I can come visit. You'll need someone to test it," he points out, for the taste, and he's a willing volunteer. In exchange, he thinks he can offer a little gossip.

"Things between us, they're good. No more frustrations," he guarantees. "At least, not for very long before we resolve them."

Desmond grins, because yeah, he figures news of a brewery will please a whole lot of people. That's why there's a supply and demand going on here. "Oh you'll love it, we're putting it up in the north village inn, since there's plenty of room. The brewery was Bull's idea, but I have the know how too so it's basically serendipity." The north village is quieter and it'll be a nice 'go out, have a drink, go home' type of location. He and Bull were a great team, and it really turned around his experience here so far.

"That's good, man, I'm glad. I can't imagine anyone stupid enough to resist you for long." Vasquez was a good looking guy. Desmond had eyes, he used them, he complimented accordingly. "My girlfriend and I are sort of on a break again, but hopefully not for long. That's kind of our thing, on again, off again." Usually that was an agonizing fact, but at the moment he seems pretty calm about it.

So they'll be right near them. Perfect. Vasquez has new best friends and may have to tell Bobo and Faraday that they're going to need to start competing for his affections soon, if he's going to be able to get liquor this easily. "We're up there, so you'll be seeing me every day," he guarantees.

He can't help his amused laugh at the comment, raking his fingers through his hair. "I am very handsome," he agrees. "If I were still single, though, I wouldn't give you a second thought," he guarantees. "Why doesn't she see what she has?"

"Good, I hope so. It feels like something this place could use. Especially if they keep fucking with our heads like they did the other month." Desmond might not fully encourage black out drinking or anything, but a pint or two would at least ease down some of the unbearable tension of reliving your worst moments. "Maybe I'll finally get to meet your boyfriend. I promise, our conversation's between us." They have the bro code now. Bros don't spill secrets of other bros.

Desmond smiles, flattered. "Hey, thanks, same here." He knows a few people who probably if Lucy wasn't around, he'd be interested in, but he can't imagine an afterlife without her here no matter how awkward things got. He thinks about it, uncertain how to proceed honestly. "Like I told you, we have a bad past, a lot of lies and betrayal. We were kind of enemies before, and that shitty experience at the shrine reminded us of it." IT's a pretty fair summary. "So, a break, hopefully not forever."

"If you meet him, be nice. He can be an asshole and only sometimes do I like that," he quips, even though that's a lie and Vasquez likes it all of the time, because he's not very smart like that. His eyes are bright as he looks at Desmond, still curious why things are so rocky with him and his woman.

"You should take her on a nice date," he suggests. "Maybe bring some of this alcohol that you plan on making. I know that always puts me in a better mood."

"Nice is my default, man, it's why I'm a terrible soldier." Luckily he's able to censor himself before using the word assassin, because it just doesn't really mean the same thing as what most people think the word means. And he's not one of them anyway. Soldier is close enough to the truth. "I was born into the family but not into the temperament." His parents are powerful, brilliant, ruthless. His mother slightly less so than his father, but they still were assassins, children, and grandchild, and great-grandchildren of them. A family legacy.

"It's not a bad idea. We've never been on a date." He blinks and considers it. "I'm not sure how she'd react, but probably not by trying to stab me again, so it's worth trying."

"Nice is the opposite of mine," Vasquez snorts, because he's been taught a long time ago that he needed to survive and usually, that means you aren't nice. It's not that he isn't and doesn't want to be, he just learned that trust and niceness comes with a price and it could be your head.

So, you don't do it, not until you learn better.

"You should take her for dinner, maybe a dinner of soup only?" he suggests. "No knives, then, for stabbing."

"You're pretty good at pretending, bro, because you've been nice to me. But I did give you booze." Desmond likes Vasquez, he liked him from the moment they met. He doesn't really have many friends, so he'll take it in any form he finds. But he's not ultimately surprised to hear that. The man's pretty well composed and clearly a badass. Just also cool and funny.

He laughs. "That is the best idea. Hopefully she doesn't have one of our hidden blades by then, but sparring over dinner wouldn't be that out of character." Lucy just has to agree to it, which will probably be the difficult part. Or who knows, maybe doing something normal like a date is what they need to stop being dramatic and over the top. "If I remember right, my mother said she only accepted my father's proposal when he beat her in one of our lethal obstacle courses." It wasn't the most romantic story to tell a five year old, but that's Assassins for you.

Maybe he should take that back. He's plenty nice to anyone who respects him and doesn't get in his way. When someone starts to not make nice about his accent or his background, then he gets very cruel, very fast. If you kill innocent people, then he's even worse.

"Don't piss me off," is all the warning he thinks he'll give, because until then, he can laugh and joke and be everyone's friend.

"Where you come from, it sounds very competitive," he says, gesturing to Desmond with a war look on his face. "I'm not sure it sounds like you could ever relax."

"Fair enough. I'll make sure not to do that." Desmond isn't really the type of guy to piss people off frequently, but he has a temper. He can't really regulate his emotions and thoughts the way other people can, but brain damage does that. He's never been cruel, not to anyone, but violent? It comes with the territory.

He nods, because yeah, pretty much. "The way we were raised, me and Lucy both, yeah. We were isolated from the rest of the world, brought up to be soldiers and spies. Relaxing was for normal people." Desmond shrugs. "So I ran off at sixteen, changed my name, got a false identity, and became a normal person." He doesn't usually talk about this, because secrecy is so important to their kind, but he's dead and he's done with caring about the order. "Unfortunately when I relaxed too much, I was kidnapped by the enemy and got all fucked up, so you know, you live and learn." To never relax and you can never run away from your destiny. Good lessons!

That's incredibly strange and the look on Vasquez's face says that. At the same time, he's not so sure of the life that Billy Rocks led, so maybe this is just what assassins do when they're being raised. It's very odd. His face says it and he shakes his head.

"I think maybe you both need to lead normal lives, now," he says bluntly. "Should I be worried that maybe you'll have a breakdown and start killing everyone here?"

Desmond does not disagree in the least. It is incredibly strange and violent and frankly terrible. "As normal as this place allows us, I really hope so. When I first got here I was kind of glad to be dead and away from all of it, but I don't know, it's been okay here. Better than there." He's not sure he's mentioned before that he is dead, but it also is just one of those things. And it happens a lot with the people around the village.

He blinks at the question and shakes his head. "Me? No, my breakdowns mostly involve booze and lying on the floor contemplating the meaningless of existence. I don't like hurting people." He can, but he doesn't have the stomach for it.

"How can you be a very good assassin if you don't like to hurt people?" Vasquez thinks that something isn't connecting here and as much as he wants to try and figure this out, he's not so sure that he's going to be able to.

At least, not easily. "They didn't offer you any other jobs? What about teachers? Farmers? You couldn't have decided you wanted to be one of those things?"

"Oh, I'm a terrible assassin. i mean, I'm an amazing assassin, but a terrible one." He realizes how that sounds, and tries to fix it in his head. Desmond's brain doesn't always work in a logical linear way. "Sorry, so it's complicated but I lived through the lives of my ancestors who were all master assassins. I have all of their skills and training on top of my own." He knows that's bizarre, but this place is bizarre. "I left the assassins as a teenager because it wasn't for me, but these memories, they were forced on me at first. I have the abilities of three master assassins, but no interest in hurting people."

He rarely just talks that frankly about what happened to him. And it's nice that he is. It's nice that he feels he can, without being afraid Vasquez will judge him. Desmond really seems like a joe schmoe most of the time, but he is a lethal combatant. His strength, speed, and agility are all impressive, but he just hangs out in his hoodies and talks about beer. "I was the mentor's son. The leader's son. Expectations came with that. I could only have a chance at a real life by leaving. But then our enemies grabbed me and messed up my head."

Vasquez snorts. It all sounds very political and complicated. He'd been an outlaw and he'd killed when his life had been on the line or innocent people were getting caught in the crossfire, and somehow that had seemed like the easiest thing to do, because at least he had a code.

"Why? Did they make you think that you needed to fight the wrong people?" He's heard of that before, even if he hasn't seen it. Men make their own choices, as far as he's concerned.

Desmond shakes his head. "No, I mean they literally messed up my head. They put me in the machine that got me to live through the other lives, but it gives you brain damage. I got the bleeding effect, it's what they call it when you stop being able to figure out who you are, what life you're in. All the test subjects before me died or killed themselves." It was very brutal. It also wasn't even that long ago, and he can still feel it at times, like he's not always sure exactly who he is.

He pauses before crossing his arms against his chest. "Lucy created the machine, the Animus. She's the one who put me through it." It's not so simple, but in some ways it is. What happened to his mind was her doing, but he knows how badly she feels for him, for Clay, for the others. "She was doing it to save the world though. What's a few lives in exchange for millions?" But it gives a little glimpse into why the two of them have complicated layers.

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dog days are only starting

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