Hide for a Season

[madimpossibledreamer]

text brought to you by Beta-senpai, who was really excited to get to contribute something from this character.

Main Points:
Assassin's Creed/The Secret World
Summary: Desmond gets a text and a phone call.  One of them is welcome.
Word Count: 1393
Rating: Teen

 

         It’s a couple hours later when they’re empowering weapons and such at the church that his phone rings. “Do you realize what this is?” Shaun demands without preamble as soon as Desmond picks up.
         “Uh. A phone call?” Sure, he probably shouldn’t be sassing the guy when he’s so worked up, but on the other hand he’s not exactly sure what prompted it, so he doesn’t have a good answer like Shaun’s expecting. Lydia laughs and moves away, so as to not be obviously eavesdropping, probably.
         “The books,” the Brit hisses, impatient. The guy actually sounds vaguely angry. He didn’t accidentally send him something cursed, did he?
         “They looked useful? I was hoping they’d give us something on the whole ‘end of the world’ thing.” He’s not actually sure if he should apologize or not. It occurs to him now that he hadn’t even thought about it. Part of him going into the Animus was finding more information for Rebecca and Shaun to analyze, and then with Ezio he’d been taking stuff like this to Leonardo all the time, so he hadn’t even bothered to consider for a second whether he should.
         Shaun actually splutters on the other end before taking a deep breath. “They’re all rare, but there’s one in particular—this appears to be a complete copy of the Voynich Manuscript. Complete, Desmond. The Illuminati have been sitting on this for years in their own private library and you just send the thing by bird.”
         That sounds like it’s rare. And valuable. Which yeah, his Eagle Vision had already sort of told him that much, but...maybe he should’ve waited until he could hand it over in person? “Rukh didn’t damage it at all, right?”
         Shaun’s reply cannot be heard over the indignant deep-throated squawking. He waits, semi-patiently, until it dies down. “No, but—listen to this, Desmond, there are two incomplete copies that we knew of. In the world. This is in better condition and in a different order than the copies and so far all I’ve had time for thanks to your potentially apocalyptic discovery is verifying that the age matches. I haven’t been able to do any more research to confirm my long-standing theory that this was one of the first largely successful historical instances of the Illuminati’s disinformation campaign, during the early 15th century, very possibly during the Italian Renaissance.”
         That’s...probably supposed to mean a lot to him, but mostly what he’s gathering from this is that Shaun really appreciated it, is upset because he doesn’t understand why Desmond sent it to him, and is frustrated that he hasn’t been able to go down the research rabbit hole like he’s wanting. The only thing that catches his interest is the setting, but it definitely wasn’t Leonardo because that was before the guy was born. He doesn’t remember exactly but Shaun did mention something about ‘late 15th century’ at some point, he’s pretty sure. “Well, what’s it say?”
         That’s yet another frustrated noise on the other end. “You really haven’t heard of it at all, have you. No one knows, Desmond. Numerous scholars and historians and cryptographers have attempted to decipher the script, termed Voynichese. It has aspects that suggest it may be a written record of a lost language or an invented one, but it’s even managed to resist attempts to magically decipher it, so there is no actual proof.”
         It honestly sounds a bit like he’s having a breakdown, so, just like he’d done for Desmond, maybe it’s time for Desmond to step up and help, or try to help, and while it’s not like he can actually admit it was more like reflex, he can come up with something plausible, right? “I definitely didn’t trust the Illuminati with it, I’m not sure I like what I’ve seen of the Dragon and from what I’ve been told it’s an artifact so they wouldn’t care anyway, and you’re one of the smartest people I know.”
         That may or may not be a muffled scream. It’s probably not coming from Rukh. Desmond’s starting to get concerned when he hears deliberate, steadying breathing, and then Shaun starts speaking again. “I’ve looked into your tattoo, a bit. Put that on hold, obviously, after recent events, but I...wanted to share the results with you, as they might be relevant.” He’s decided to completely change the subject, probably because he’s not getting whatever he’s looking for.
         That’s another pang of guilt, great. Not that, well. He’d definitely thought Shaun would research if only for his own peace of mind, even though Desmond is pretty sure it’d been Juno or Minerva meddling somehow when it came to choosing the design and definitely didn’t have anything to do with how weird his powers were, but from the sounds of things it sounds like he had genuinely spent a lot of time on this in the off-chance that it might be useful—that he might be useful—to Desmond, and that’s. It feels like he’s been wasting the guy’s time. “Sounds great. What did you find?”
         Shaun pauses and then starts, from the sound of it, reading through his notes. Desmond probably didn’t put enough enthusiasm into it, but it’s not like he can fix that now. “Given your companion, who I’ll have you know is incredibly unusual for a familiar, I’m guessing your benefactor is either Morrigan or Hsi-Wang-Mu, since both have been depicted as accompanied by ravens. Oddly, there’s...many similarities between the two. Both were prone to premonitions, passing along gifts to those they deemed worthy. If their advice wasn’t heeded, though, they were prone to turning blessing to curse. Associated with fate, war, destruction of the enemy, and protection of their chosen champion. Hsi-Wang-Mu was originally more of a…” The voice on the other end of the line trails off a little, before continuing, a little subdued. “Well, she presided over disease, to begin with. Immortality and the Tao—that is, to oversimplify, the idea of balance.”
         ...Oh. He’s trying to avoid saying ‘goddess’ or ‘deity’. It’s mostly just the idea that he’d have to deal with Isu again that got Desmond, but it’s not like he can just explain that, either.
         Okay. Not that it’s probably right, but it’d be interesting to hear what Shaun has to say on the subject, and they’re not in the middle of something, so… “Okay, what does this mean for me?”
         Shaun sounds a little less frazzled as he elaborates, so that’s something. “Prowess on the battlefield, mostly, which if you’re throwing yourself into the thick of things can only be a good thing, and it may very well have strengthened your Third Eye.” Huh. That’s probably just a coincidence, but still. Weird. “And, likely, her blessing helped form your bond with Rukh, here.” It’d be fun to hear him go off on another tangent, but from the sound from the other end, it’s more urgent for Shaun, as he reluctantly excuses himself.
         Lydia’s smirking at him when he pockets the phone, but he doesn’t take it personally. He has a feeling she just has that kind of personality.

         His phone buzzes again. It’d be a shock if it’s actually Shaun, given that he’s not sure the Brit even texts, but maybe he’s sent a picture. Desmond glances at it again, and—it’s definitely not Shaun. He doesn’t recognize the number. Or the way this person texts, or half of what this person is even saying, but given that the last person who found his number was Kirsten Geary he’s a little concerned about that. He’s definitely passing this along to Rebecca, too, though she might just end up passing it to Shaun, anyway. She’s been a little less responsive for a bit.

Welcome to the kamikaze fighters of change, the made men of metamorphosis. The machine clacks on, and I like the winning payouts. You and I are the bee's knees. Hey, hey! No need to get in a tizzy. We'll meet soon, you dig? Oh—but do wear your best glad rags. Nobody in this world of ghosts and spooks and outer horrors needs a flat tire. -DK

         ...Well. It doesn’t sound like John, or Kirsten, or anybody else he’s met so far? Though it’s hard to tell whether that’s a good or a bad thing. He’s...not going to respond to that just yet.