sixthiterationlogs | 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."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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.

dog days are only starting

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