Desmond Miles is an Assassin (subject_17) wrote in angellogs, @ 2018-12-22 05:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, desmond miles, noah fon ronsenburg |
Who: Noah, Desmond
When: Current
Where: The gatehouse
What: Desmond's stressed by the past and the present, some of it literally. He comes over, and has soup with Noah.
Rating/Warnings: Some spoilers for AC 1 and 2, MAJOR spoilers for AC 3 and the Haytham novel Foresaken.
Status: Complete
The gatehouse is steaming up the windows, but Noah's got Balthier and Basch taking over one of the rooms that lock in the main castle, and he's - he's sensibly enough making some broth. He was doing the video call thing with Aedan, and having a mug of soup with him. With teleportation, Aedan could even pick up a mug from him, if he felt up to it, and still spend holiday stuff with Sherr and the assassins. Ezio, apparently was trying to set some things up.
Noah's probably not - that threatening? Well, there's Aedan stories, and Shaun in his favor, and he's wearing a fake watercolor print of various not too correct pears on an apron. He saw it while taking Courfeyrac shopping and ended up picking it up. Under it - he's - Noah. Bulky in the shoulders, slightly sleepy.
Desmond’s at least himself today, after a night of Connor, watching his father die at his own hands, so he’s kind of relieved about THAT, even as he still looks, well, a little tired. He’s stuffed himself into a hoodie, bag balanced on his shoulder and he offers a smile as he shows up.
“Hey.” he says, waving a little. “Thanks for the space to try and get stuff back on straight. It helps.”
Noah waves. "Have you eaten? And - think of it more as - sometimes it helps, to be somewhere different that feels all right."
“I...may have forgotten that part.” Desmond admits. “Shaun says I’m sort of a walking disaster. I mean, he’s not totally wrong. It’s been...overwhelming. “ he shakes his head. “My brain’s a little..I don’t know, altered.”
"What's your opinion on tiny pasta shapes?" Noah waves him over, and digs down some mugs. "And - it's all right to be overwhelmed. Want to show me that list? Or we could talk. I'm Noah. Noah fon Ronsenburg, but the last name's not entirely - comfortable to mess with."
“That would be a good thing.” Desmond says. “Can I help at all? And yeah I did type it up.” He passes it over. On it, there are some basics, like when he was born and his favorite color and other things like that.
“Talking could be nice. I hear it’s gotten busy around HERE. And Desmond Miles.” He offers his hand.
Noah reaches to shake his hand. He's got sword calluses, and some general firmness of working with his hands. "A pleasure. And it's been busy, aye. This recipe called for some tofu, and green onions and broth, or small pasta and dill and a potential soft egg. Does either sound interesting to try? I do have some roast chicken and some diced ham, if you want something more filling. Aedan's not handling solids well right now."
Still keeps in shape here. That’s good to know.” He nods at the mention of Aedan there. “Either would be fine. I mean, he’s kind of been...different. I get and know why and he’s dealing pretty well, but I TOTALLY see where it’s a LOT.”
"From what he's said, this is also - it's near when he was captured, so his brain focuses." Noah's leaning to check the options. "Let's try the noodles then. Want to add things to the bowl and see if you want to chop up some chicken? I'm adding a fistful of spinach to mine, because the doctor says I'm a little low on iron. We can do the bowls, get something to drink, and if you'd like, you could look around? I don't know how you work, but some people feel safer after looking around a place."
He's skimming the list.
“New Years, yeah.” Desmond nods. “I get it around now because of the whole death thing I mentioned. Or I guess am getting.” He laughs a little darkly. “Nice thing to find out, I guess.” He shakes his head. “Crazy that we all wound up here kind of nuts but I’ll take it.”
"Trust me, I'm not in the best shape with everything either." Noah tilts his head. "I wouldn't call it nuts. At home, you'd be called a seer."
“I mean, the eagle vision part? That’s sort of normal for us. It’s more the thinking I’m people I’ve gone into simulations as. It’s weirder for other people, but I swear, the collective short term amnesia, I could do without.” Desmond sighs ruefully. “At least they all can mix a drink well. So, I mean, no chance of getting fired.”
NOT that he gets the impression Minty WOULD, but…
"Oh, I meant more - the other selves thing." Noah shrugs. "Not madness a least. I can see where it'd be frustrating, losing time." He's filled up his bowl and gestures. "Pick what you'd like. Coffee or tea?"
“Oh that.” Desmond nods. “Well, I mean. Technically if you ask Ezio, there’s a...he had to reach me through time. Altair started to pass that on and…” He shrugs. “Mom’s side of the family is WEIRD. I mean, DAD”S has Haytham which is its own thing but...he’s kind of much too practical to worry too much about the supernatural. And coffee would be amazing.” He moves around to accept that.
“Thanks.”
Noah gets a mug of coffee for them. "Let me fill up a tray, and if you could grab that paperback stack on the table? We can head up. Eat. Talk?"
“Sure.” Desmond agrees, scooping the books into his right arm with his left hand, the one hand that’s still there. It’s WEIRD how used to that routine he’s gotten, when he thinks about it. It’s been a WEIRD year, he guesses, considering how he got here in January now.
And he appreciates that Noah didn’t make a thing about that.
Upstairs, Noah's setting things down on a low table, and it's - cozy. Laptop, bookshelves, and a mess of upholstered chairs to curl up in. Noah smiles at him. "The lattice outside is climbable by an adult. Shaun appreciated that, when he got here." He's sliding his bowl closer and sips his coffee. "Sorry. I haven't had much yet. Don't mind me devouring things."
“Shaun doesn’t WANT me climbing.” Desmond eyedarts. “So. you know. I definitely do it anyway.” Naturally. “Bayek spots for me so it’s fine.” He does like Bayek, for the fact he’s not related to him, and relatively drama free.
“It’s nice in here.” he adds, noticing some of the blankets there. “And nah, go for it. “
"You see why I thought even if I ended up talking to the other yous, I'd survive?" Noah smiles at him. "And this - I'd add some hot sauce, I think. The dill's not bad, but it tastes like it needs something else. Leeks maybe."
“Ooh.” Desmond pauses. “Actually I don’t know much about cooking besides really basic stuff to get by. I mean, I’m really good at barbecuing, or was, and I make really awesome pizza dough, learned from a neighbor in Rome...uh, technically that’s not a story Shaun really knows about. I was supposed to resting and got really antsy, so I risked hanging out at the bakery closest to Ezio’s estate when they didn’t have me in the machine, but it does SOUND like something really good.”
"Hm." Noah tries another spoonful. "I'll try getting the hot sauce. What's your opinion on music? There's a playlist, on there, that I've been going through. Balthier and I share music options back and forth."
“Music…” Desmond looks thoughtful “Just about anything that’s not country. Totally not my thing. WEIRDLY it was one of the few radio stations that came in clearly when I was growing up on The Farm..” It doesn’t sound like a family business where you raise a sheep or goat for 4H and then come to terms with the reality of selling it after the fair, somehow.
“It was always one of those things where you sort of wanted to listen to anything but your parents so I kind of listened a LOT. When I first heard stations that came in clearly all the time, it’s such a weird cliche sounding thing, but it was kind of amazing. “
And he pauses. “Growing up a modern assassin kid after the templars tried to purge us out was...you know how some people talk about cults? Like a less religious version of that with no real figurehead as such. I mean, my DAD was mentor but he didn’t think he was divine. Better than everybody else, sure…”
"But that doesn't mean it was good, I'm guessing. I'm honestly kind of angry with Haytham, but that's my own -" Noah shakes his head. "I have no leg to stand on, when it comes to ethics, but he seems to not care enough about the consequences of his choices. And since those consequences hurt me and mine, it's something I notice before other things. I think I've heard Shaun talk about your father. He did not sound fond. Bill? Something like that."
“Haytham is…” Desmond considers. “I’ve been him, and there’s a LOT of childhood trauma going on there. I don’t mean never being good enough for your parents kind of trauma like mine was, even if mine was a little extreme. We’re talking witnessing incredibly traumatic stuff when he was ten. So I think, you know how a lot of really creepy people had dsyfunctional stuff go on? “ He shrugs.
“And really? Not care? Everything he does, he’s calculated to a nnth of a degree. So, he’s considered those consequences before he acted. Which is probably worse ninety percent of the time. He’s kind of a jerk.”
And he blinks at the rest of that, About Shaun and…
“Huh. Shaun mentioned stuff? He DID look concerned, like really concerned the one time he saw him hit me.”
"He . . . could barely mention you, I fear. I think it was - I was a stranger but - I think he was desperately lonely and blaming himself that you - from what he said, your body wasn't - a body? And he neither could bury you at the time, or save you when he realized otherwise."
“I mean, it was KIND of a body but they figured I’d internally combust so no one waited around and then abstergo showed up and got samples to use for...all kinds of stuff, I guess.” Desmond looks sort of disgusted at that idea. “And, huh. Sounds...kind of right on that front. But I mean the parts about my dad are...I didn’t think he pissed SHAUN off that much. Becca, sure. You could see that on her face.”
Go figure?
"From what Shaun said, they . . . made a game about your death shortly afterwards. I don't know the full story, but he said he should've done more, and tried to make the - bunker? The time in the bunker better." Noah shrugs. "It might be better to talk to him, if not about that, just - about things."
“THEY went into games about me?” Desmond looks kind of horrified. “I mean I’ve seen the version that exists here, of that, since I’m supposed to be fictional…”
How WEIRD is it that he’s fine with being fictional in some universes but the Ezio thing is throwing him? It’s probably something to do with having been him for forever in ways a lot of people can’t be like their relatives.
“But wow. I’ll ask more about that. I know Shaun had mentioned they launched a complex just for their uh entertainment products, and had been doing some stuff where…Well there’s a really creepy video he said looked a lot like the real thing that they start Arno’s game with. I’m apparently a genetic source to them dead, they can use me to track down other people like me who existed…”
Wait the wording on that is a little off.
“Other people like my FAMILY.” He corrects, wanting to hold onto being himself right now, even though there’s a slight bit of a change in his voice, with his r’s shifting a little, and… he shakes his head. He ISN’T going to slip into Haytham right now. That’s probably the LAST person of the options that Noah would be okay with.
“No wonder he didn’t go into details. I really hate being their pawn even while I’m dead. ...Was dead?” He shrugs a little.
"He was afraid you were catatonic, I believe." Noah shakes his head. "I wouldn't say just talk about . . . what happened with you and the actions of Abst - Abstergo? Was that the name? Just - it wasn't easy for him, and I think he missed the people of home when he got here, and wished he could do more. I don't know if he mentioned, but my fiance joined the templars when he arrived here. I am not a member, and am not inclined to pick a side, but - it's fair for you to know."
“Oh I was definitely dead, I mean. That was kind of clear to me at least. Though, with Juno being involved..” He cracks a smile.
“Don’t strike deals with powerful beings from other universes or from before time. I’m pretty sure that usually ends up badly. And I guess I can see where...yeah Abstergo, where the idea of them still using me even after I died...that’d bother him a LOT. It’s kind of like getting punched while you’re down or, I don’t know. Ezio once,when he was just starting, went completely NUTS on a target, I mean, with a really GOOD reason but his uncle freaked out because we, assassins, aren’t supposed to do that. I actually don’t think most templars would either. Would HAVE, I guess. I’ve learned that the modern example, with exceptions who aren’t really from my world, are generally pretty bad at the whole respecting each other, even as enemies thing.”
He’s not sure the assassins are always much better. After all, he’s met Jacob.
“Anyway. It’s definitely one of those things that just feels worse, I agree. And yeah, Aedan’s dad. I haven’t really MET the Prince, but he seems decent, like the kind who you can’t lump in because they came to this with really pure intentions. I mean, sure, those aren’t everything, but…”
"But you can feel what you will about Sebastian. I'm just someone on the edges, trying to offer a safe harbor to people who need one." Noah shrugs. "You're important to Shaun, and Shaun's important to me."
“Well, I mean.” Desmond shrugs. “I was in love with a templar for a long time. I didn’t KNOW she was a templar, but. I’m also not exactly ONLY an assassin. I spent time in Haytham’s head too. I mean, ABSTERGO I think I’m probably going to hate everyone associated with them but templars…” He shrugs. “It’s about belief if you’re a REAL one. I get the feeling Haytham would be totally insulted by Abstergo people claiming they ARE.”
And that’s...
He blinks.
“Wow. put that way… Shaun DOES grow on you,.”
Noah laughs. "I think he sees me as a bit of - I don't know - someone to talk to." He'd say mentor, but that has another meaning. "I'm honored."
Well, it’s similar enough to what Shaun does, in theory that the word could apply in both ways. In THEORY, sure, but still. A bit of it’s true.
“Really, if Shaun can find anyone who he gets along with who doesn’t automatically want to punch him, that’s already kind of amazing.” Desmond might as well be totally honest. “He’s...yeah. Kind of...prickly?”
"Yeah, I can imagine." Noah shrugs a little. "We met because he was worried that my twin and I would join the Templars. It wasn't a good time here, and it got - people were worked up. So - yeah. Prickly might describe it. But he's . . . caring, if he would not admit it. I'm tempted to offer him a - what is the term - scrip? For one of those places that sells good British tweed. For a jacket for teaching."
“People?” There’s an eyebrow. “I can imagine which people too.” To be fair, it probably WAS more than one, but Desmond DEFINITELY has some guesses floating around. “I noticed Shaun’s gotten a little uh, increasingly paranoid? He always SORT of was, but…”
He snickers at that. “I could see that, definitely. The game with the twins has him sort of wearing that. And I mean, I doubt anyone at the school would be all that surprised at this point. I get the impression history departments are sort of...all over the place. “
"Is tweed not fashionable?" Noah's honestly curious. He is getting up. "I'm going to bring up seconds. Want some?"
“I mean, I guess in some contexts.” Desmond shrugs. “Look, I grew up in the middle of nowhere, so it’s not like I have much room to judge. And actually that’d be good. Thank you.”
"I grew up in another universe." Noah gets up. "Give me a little. I'll grab something sweet as well." He ends up bringing the coffee pitcher, some cookies, the broth, and some hot sauce to try. It's good he brought the tray down.
Desmond’s taking a second to be relieved that he’s been relatively able to be stable through this. It’s kind of nice, really.
Noah heads back up. "My twin's spending some time with his good friend, so we've got the place to ourselves. I was planning on writing to Aedan to let him know how the test soup went. He's been a bit stressed. We could just sit in with some books and music and talk, if you'd like. There is a practice yard, or paperwork with Calum as well, but I doubt it'll be restful. How are you feeling so far?"
“Yeah, he’s seemed kind of…” Desmond considers. “It’s been a LOT. And hey, practice yard would be awesome sometime not today. I’m…” He glances at his right arm. “People are being WEIRD about the whole one hand situation. I wouldn’t mind showing them up sometime. I kind of...it’s weird but I want to be back in the field. I’m so jealous of the people with actual assignments. I mean, I’m not that thrilled about killing people, but I could spy. I could liberate important stuff.”
"If it helps, my brother's got - limited use of his hands at times. It depends on how things are. If I'm doing something that annoys you, I'm willing to change. The coloring book pages are a suggestion from a medic that it might help with dexterity with his fingers." He's leaning to refill his bowl and adds some hot sauce to try it. "The vinegar helps, I think. And it makes sense to me. I'd think there's things you could do that don't need both hands."
“Oh there DEFINITELY are.” Desmond agrees. “I’m a little more worried about my mental stability but I mean. If I have somewhere to prove I know what I’m doing, that I can get it down to an exact art…” He grins. “I should try to find a way to sell that to Jacob too, when Emmett’s cleared medically to get back to things. Everybody said I can have him when he’s eighteen if he still wants to be an apprentice so…” He laughs. “We’ll work out something completely weird and unusual that works for us.”
Which doesn’t sound all that bad really.
“I mean, we’ve all got our stuff. It’s an easier problem than being loud and obvious.”
"Aye. And it seems - you seem to be doing better than some that got here." Noah shrugs. "I can imagine not being you is unsettling, but - well, I got here shortly before a number of things happened. We had aliens show up. Weird things like that. But - Arno was having major issues, and Iomhar was drinking about as much as he was, and for good reason early on."
“Arno seems like the kind of person who always has some kind of major issue.” Desmond muses. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s GOOD, better than he gets credit for, but he’s A. French and B. some other kind of European, I don’t remember right now. I’m pretty sure those are both really key factors.”
"You see, I'd guess it was that his childhood was terrible and it didn't improve." Noah's finally starting to fill up at least. "But cultural things and that - revolving? Revolution? I doubt that helped." He knows revolution's a term, but he can't remember if the French one of the humane and ethical guillotines was called the Revolution or something else.
“I mean that doesn’t HELP, sure.” Desmond agrees. “Kind of goes with the whole Euro thing and the time and all. Shaun’s the one who knows more about how it all worked but…” he nods. “It wasn’t a great time to be around anyway. Luckily we’re not related. I mean he met SOMEONE in my bloodline, but...that’s complicated as anything. Sages are...weird.”
And HE has a sage son, somewhere out there. He’s learned that much about it here. Sometimes he wonders what THAT is like. He’s probably a really WEIRD kid, but Desmond kind of hates that he doesn’t have the CHANCE to try being a decent parent. He thinks he can manage better than his dad, anyway. There’s considerably less pressure on him for one thing, but. More importantly, he’s not an asshole.
"Aye. From what little I heard, they were. It must be difficult, being one, and being hunted, since - wasn't Abstergo hunting them?" Noah's guessing. "I try to go by what people tell me, since it's - it seems unfair to go by the fiction."
“I mean, at first.” Desmond nods. “And now, they’ve got. Well, when you have an ancient goddess released into the universe, kind of a bad call on my part, but the only one I COULD have made, given the two choices, you tend to get a little power of your own back.” He frowns. “NOT that the precursors are better than Abstergo. They got more power working with them but there’s their own agenda at work.”
Noah slides the coffee carafe toward him. "And Balthier fears some of what play at home was like that. But it seems like Shaun's not worried."
“Not especially, anyway.” Desmond nods. “No one with any real ability, on either side, to shake the world is here. Well, I mean. I guess technically anybody can. But no one with that agenda.”
He hopes.
"I think Balthier was more worried that - the patterns he had might help you guys? But -" Noah shrugs. "It won't matter either way, as you said. He was . . . he was dying, when he got here, and he's still healing, I think."
“I mean, that could have been.” Desmond says. “I wasn’t around to really know WHAT was going on then. I got lucky. Getting here dying’s...not all that fun, no. Or it doesn’t SOUND like it. That stuff can take a lot. I still wake up sometimes and think I’m in my cell at Abstergo. Or coming out of a memory that isn’t really mine. “ He winces. “There are experiences, I guess.”
"He was in prison, and his father was terrified all his plans were falling apart, and taking it out on him, from what he said. And when he got here, he was terrified." Noah frowns as he gets an e-mail. "I think my brother's talking about cake. Balthier just e-mailed me a recipe for a - log?" He turns the picture to show Desmond. It looks like a rolled up cake with filling in it. Yule cake? Though he thought that was fruitcake.
“Oh GOD.” Desmond makes a face. “You know, at least mine never actually literally locked me up. When I ran away, I was ABLE to do it and nobody stopped me.” Or came after him, which had surprised him at the time, since he was sixteen. But, it was a good thing in the end. He hadn’t WANTED to be dragged home anyway, it’s just..interesting as a demonstration of how things GO in their world. Prison, though…
Prison is something else.
And, huh. He looks over at the picture.
“Oh I think that’s probably something like chocolate icing. They put them in store windows, sometimes. “ Desmond studies it a moment. “I think it’s probably more of a, I want to say FRENCH thing but don’t ask me how I know that. Ezio’s holiday stuff seems to have involved a lot of preserved things and free flowing wine and cakes and Haytham’s a lot of chocolate and Connor and Altair didn’t exactly DO Christmas. We did a really low key secular version on the farm. Someone would make a dinner and there’d be candy if we managed to get in a supply run that wasn’t full of abstergo syndicate company products. If we DIDN’T manage that, well, we still had turkey?” And he smirks. “My mom let me get drunk though. Well. She let me have wine. Went about as well as you’d expect for a teenager who was SO not used to it.”
"How do you do turkey? Out here, everyone seems to think it's got to be with brussel sprouts." Noah looks thoughtful. "But they joke about hating them. They just seem like small cabbages."
“With sprouts?” Desmond’s frowning and his voice is shifting a little again. “No, you would be wanting a GOOSE with that. NOT that they appear to be...do they even DO goose anymore? No, for Americans at least, or well, we weren’t all Americans, there were potatoes, sometimes with cheese or mashed or baked, it depended on who was cooking that year. Usually it was someone too injured or sick to be on a mission. Sometimes a bit too old.”
"You can get goose? I've seen it in the fancy store near Balthier's place. And the other one that sells parts missing ducks. And hello. Do you want a different name?" Noah looks curious. "Or was that just a normal voice change?"
“Oh it’s not NORMAL.” Desmond makes a face. “I might end up going back and forth a little, but I’m kind of fighting to stay ME here. I don’t really want to BE Haytham right now. “ There’s a sort of struggle going on that it’s hard to put into words. “My mind is incredibly...I don’t know. I feel like they’d step in if I was in some sort of danger and that’d be fine. It’s the other parts that I don’t exactly…” He frowns.
"Does - Haytham know when you're channelling him? Or is it a weird - past Haytham time tunnel thing?" Noah shakes his head. "Sorry. You see what I mean about fretting at things."
“It’s a...a construct of Haytham appeared in my head when my brain fragmented, So no, he actually doesn’t. He knows I do it. I attacked him once, when I was Connor and we happened to be in the same place. THAT was fun. But, he was long dead by the time I started poking around his head.” Desmond explains. “So, you know, my alternate personalities are those of people who actually existed once.”
Noah looks thoughtful. "Does it help to let them - comment? Or - wait - all he said was that he'd want goose with sprouts. And potatoes, done various ways by someone who wasn't on a mission."
“Oh the first was him, the preference. The rest was me. The accent just tends to stick around.” Desmond shakes his head a bit. “It’s crazy. It’s probably easier than Ezio. I love him, really, as much as you can love your ancestor, and I mean, he’s a GOOD guy, but Italian, Venetian Italian is a little...difficult.”
Noah nods. "He's - erm - suggested he'd like to sleep with twins. The one here." He shakes his head. "I've not had so much interest since I got here. It's - strange."
“Oh, yeah. That’s a thing.” Desmond shrugs. “I get the impression Ezio would proposition anyone, politely, but still, who could legally consent who he didn’t know wasn’t interested. The both of them, the one in my head and the real one, have a thing for Shaun, but it’s not something going to happen to anyone. Shaun’s in love and Ezio respects that. He’s just reminded of a friend.”
"How do you feel fullness wise?" Noah's setting his bowl down on the tray. "I think I'm full."
“I’m pretty close too.” Desmond smiles. “Thanks for this. You’re good.”
"Cookies okay for dessert?" Noah's gathering his things together. "I might need your help to carry all this down, if you want to see the options. I work at a bakery. There is options."
“Sure.” Desmond steps around to scoop things into his right arm, then moves to grab some things with his hand. “I’m DEFINITELY interested in options. Thanks for this, by the way.”
"It's not a problem." He hefts up the tray. "You sounded like it'd been a rough week? Month?" Noah smiles at him. "I didn't want to be in an empty house."