Museum Acquisitions

[madimpossibledreamer]

HE’S NOT KIDDING DESMOND HOW DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I ATTEMPTED TO GET THE PERFECT RUN ON THIS SABOTAGE MISSION ON 2-3 PREVIOUS CHARACTERS—
and then you bug out my mouse cursor. Very funny, Desmond. Put it back.

Main Points:
Assassin's Creed/The Secret World
Summary: The museum turns out to be a treasure trove of information.
Word Count: 795
Rating: Teen

 

         It takes Desmond a bit to realize there’s something else—a belt this time—and another text from Rebecca, saying she’d hoped Susie was one of the ones that made it out. It’s easier to stop thinking about that and just focus on getting back on track, given that the last camera’s on the roof of the mining museum. At least that’s a little something to calm his nerves. As he’s working his way around to the front, being careful on the shingles which don’t seem particularly new, a raven flutters down to stare at him, turning its head a little to eye him curiously.
         “Hi?” Is this maybe one of those magical animals he can tame, like the ak’ab?
         The raven caws back and flies off, and it’s...really hard to tell what any of that meant, actually, and he’s feeling a little silly now. It turns out that the camera’s down for repairs, anyway, but the janitor who left the note, James Morris, might have gotten to fixing it before everything went to hell, and if not, well, there’s some new cameras down there, too, it looks like, downstairs in the basement. That works out, actually; it probably doesn’t hurt to get some idea of the history of the area, because that’s usually a good place to find clues to threats and opportunities. It’s devoid of zombies—once he clears out the ones that follow him in, that is—which is good. It means he actually has some time to wander around, even if it’s one of those tiny museums. They even have a little gift shop, with, surprisingly, a little cash left in the register, and one of the history books looks gold, so both of those go in his bag. The main display’s about a mining accident in the local Blue Ridge Mine, but it doesn’t feel gold, and a quick skim says there’s a section in the book dedicated to the mine and accident, so he’ll read that later. For now, there’s a door faintly glowing gold, so that has to be leading to the basement.
         And then, once he’s gotten down the steps, as if there hasn’t been enough of it, the man (Morris?) standing at the end of the hallway is infected with that same oily sludge from his dream, only it’s worse than it was on the big zombie. Because those are those tentacle things, moving and oozing like they’re completely separate entities from him. Like this is some sort of infection, or parasite. He’s muttering to himself, but his voice doesn’t quite sound right, either.
         “Go away!” he yells when he finally glances up and notices Desmond standing there.
         “Hey, wait, your name’s James, right? I can help you!” He...doesn’t actually have a clue how he’s going to even try to do that. But the guy doesn’t stop to listen, just runs away. Trying to protect him, maybe. He follows, and—okay. Yeah. Maybe his instinct to pick up the book was a good one, because no normal mining museum in the middle of nowhere has laser traps some janitor can trigger somehow.
         But even with that, he’s been missing this—jumping over laser traps, avoiding cameras, climbing up scaffolding while avoiding cameras...not sure why the janitor was able to set up some high-tech stuff, but he’s not about to ask questions when he’s having fun. It’s not quite the obstacle course they’d set up in the warehouse, but he’d been having hallucination Bleeds at the time, so yeah, maybe this isn’t so much of a challenge, but it’s good as a warm-up, and compared to some of the other stuff he’s been doing lately? Yeah, it’s a blast.
         And then it’s just finally him and Morris, and he’s being yelled at. Again. “Told you to go away!” The voice is still distorted, but it’s more conversation than he’s gotten out of, say, the zombies, even if the whole ‘smacking’ thing is a similar fighting style they share. At least Morris isn’t trying to take a bite out of him. It’s harder given that he’s not trying to do too much damage, just subdue, but it’s not like he hasn’t had practice lately (thanks Shaun).
         And, okay, yeah, he probably shouldn’t be attempting this. He’d barely managed to keep up with not getting infected from the zombies, and part of him knows that this is out of his reach. But the guy spoke. There was still something in there, past the whatever-it-is infecting reality, something human, and given that it’s in Tokyo if his dream is all accurate, he’s going to need to know how to deal with it.
         So he reaches out, feeling a little shaky, feeling the slimy-oily feeling like in his dream, and yanks—