The Breadcrumb Trail

[madimpossibledreamer]

Desmond would have known that Krieg was in Solomon Island if he’d listened to the Sheriff complain about the number of calls she’d had to go on because the guy was getting drunk again.
Hide & shriek is a goofy spinoff that I honestly wasn’t going to mention except for the fact that lore-wise Carter would absolutely have played it and I realized it was the perfect opportunity to actually make Desmond talk about something. And he didn’t drag his feet this time, so hurray, he’s actually learning.

Main Points: Assassin's Creed/The Secret World
Summary: Desmond gets to have a quiet morning and figures out his next steps.
Word Count: 2689
Rating: Teen 

 

         Desmond gets a run in, before breakfast. It’s kinda gloomy—not the fog, for once, but more like it’s about to rain. Maybe the Druids were calling down just general rain, not just over where the Park had been. Hopefully everything’s going well with Chelsea and Shaun and Rebecca. He’d call to ask, but he kinda can’t, not without getting them in trouble. He’d been able to just run past the zombies just fine on the way out, no problem (and...yeah, the Black House is just...gone like it’d never been built, though the graveyard behind it is still there) and ends up helping the Council supply team on the way back. It just means he gets to work up that much more of an appetite, and Wolf-John is more than happy to make bacon and eggs and pancakes for everyone (seriously more than happy, even if he’s not the kind of guy to smile too much) which makes Desmond wonder if he’s been surviving off of supplies in the other houses rather than beg the Council for help. The Druids wander in in shifts, eat a little, and then go right back to it, but they don’t seem too worried, so Desmond doesn’t offer a hand.
         The thing is, he’s had an idea. Sure, it’s not like he can wander around town eavesdropping on people. Zombies aren’t too talkative. But if you want to find someone, you look for their allies—or their enemies. DK’s text probably didn’t refer to Shaun, true, but that doesn’t mean it’s not someone Shaun knows, and one thing he knows about Shaun is that, barring people like Montag who don’t text or post on forums, one of the things that Shaun likes most to do is pick fights on forums—er, stage debates or however he’d put it to make it sound more dignified or, um. Posh, that’s the word. He’d found Shaun posting under Guy Fawkes before, when he’d been in New York, and he’d recently found Shaun arguing with that ‘Illuminati hobbyist’ priest. It’s possible that the ‘date’ refers to Hawthorne, but even if it doesn’t, maybe there’s another clue there, other conspiracy theorists in the area it might pay to keep an eye out for.
         The Sargasso he doesn’t fully get. A quick search says it’s a particular area of the Atlantic. Quicker than it should be, actually—he’s starting to suspect he’d jazzed up the battery and speed on his phone using the Calculations without even thinking about it. Which is disconcerting every time he notices. Some technical terms are included in the search results, stuff he doesn’t get. He doesn’t have to know for sure, though. He could ask Danny, but he’s pretty sure the kind of confirmation he’d want is above the kid’s paygrade, because he’s pretty sure Danny doesn’t have the contacts or magic to confirm something weird’s going down in that area of the ocean. No, he’s going to go with instinct on this one—it’s something to do with the Draug. He hasn’t had to deal with their stupid blue lobster-human faces in a while, so maybe he’s about due. And they’re tied into whatever Beaumont is trying to do, so a tip about something involving them would make sense.
         In fact, he’s even willing to bet that’s where Joe Slater found Excalibur in the first place. He wouldn’t know—they got knocked off course—but under the circumstances it would make sense. Still, unless there’s a portal out there (which he’s not putting past this weirdo magic island) he’s guessing he’s not meant to actually row out there. Or whatever. Nah, it’s probably more metaphorical, like...somewhere the Draug’s influence is really strong. Something like that. Man, he misses being able to bug Shaun or Rebecca about this.
         And he’s a little surprised how fruitful looking for Guy Fawkes is, because yeah, he does actually find some local conspiracy theorists that way. He hadn’t thought about how nice it was to just...read Shaun’s words, too, even if they can’t talk at the moment. He’s heard enough of Shaun complaining and his database entries to be able to hear all of it in Shaun’s voice as he reads, anyway. Guy Fawkes picked on illumination576 (and therefore was probably vaguely at least internet friends with the guy), yeah, but a couple of others look like they could be locals. Some guy who’s a fan of Krieg too (small world) and has an entire blog dedicated to the guy (...called Sam Krieg Sightings, which is a little...obsessive). He’d at least been smart enough to use a different username, but hadn’t changed his writing style at all when he’d had an entire argument with Guy Fawkes on a completely different forum about Russian Cold War experiments involving vampires and Dracula. Which...Desmond would have thought is completely ludicrous, but Shaun’s point was mostly that Soviets had not been and were not still kidnapping American citizens for testing, not that they hadn’t taken place at all. He’d even accused Shaun of being part of ‘one of the secret societies pulling the strings’ and also is probably a Russian agent, which is about 1:1 for his blog, so Desmond’s pretty sure it’s the exact same guy. Of course, he’s also paranoid enough that he hadn’t actually listed where on Solomon Island he lived, just that he’s here. He’d wanted to meet Krieg (who was...traveling out here, huh, wonder if he made it), so maybe that’s a lead.
         There’s Danny, maybe. Though he’s already met the kid. On that note, maybe Ms. Radcliffe, if it’s someone he’s met already. She’d been more stuck on the superhero track, but she was involved in conspiracies, and probably vaguely sympathetic. Who even knows, maybe it’s Lorraine.
         And there’s a third guy, a Wabanaki, actually, which makes Desmond remember that Shaun had mentioned wanting to get in touch with the local tribe. Maybe he’d actually wanted to talk to this Tyler Freeborn guy. He’s got a blog, too, but it’s more Orochi stuff, environmental protections that they’re skirting, accidents they’re covering up, and isn’t that just familiar for all the wrong reasons? He’s also definitely referencing posts that are missing, too. A few video entries, even, though the way he talks compared to Shaun is a lot more frantic, like he’s rushing to get all his thoughts out. Not that Shaun doesn’t do that when he’s on a roll, but it’s more like that’s this guy’s default operating state than Shaun’s slower sarcasm. Tyler had even actually posted something incoherent about the Fog, though the way it reads it’s less like he’d been having issues and more like something got corrupted. Like—okay, so Clay hadn’t actually been too coherent to begin with, but it’s more like the second layer, filtering that through a messed up recording. Shaun had tried to post something to check in with him that reads like the asshole Shaun is to everyone else and to Desmond reads pretty clearly as actually worry, but Tyler didn’t answer. Now, the hopeful explanation says that maybe, just maybe, the wifi’s only working at the Sheriff’s Department. That’s...pretty unlikely, though.
         “The Illuminati’s been trying to shut this guy down for years,” Carter says over his shoulder, setting a plate down beside him before sitting. At least he doesn’t jump. He does look up from his phone to see Alice trying to teach Bob tricks with the leash, like dancing in a circle. By feeding him pieces of raw meat.
         “Make sure to wash your hands afterward,” he reminds her, only to get a withering look in return. “They have, huh?”
         “According to the seniors, yeah.” She pushes a couple more pancakes and a slice of bacon onto his plate, grinning at him when he glances at her, and—hey, he’s not going to complain about more free food.
         “Something’s keeping it up, though,” he muses, glancing at it again. He’d say maybe Shaun, but even though he’d get that urge to keep going, trying to share information, especially in the face of a ton of people trying to tell him to shut up, on account of the fact that they’re contrarian kindred spirits, Shaun is also the kind of guy that wouldn’t want other people getting tangled up in this. He wouldn’t feel responsible, exactly, if their argument had been any indication, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. Maybe the Dragon, maybe the Council—hell, everyone looks at them like they’re the undisputed most trustworthy group, but after learning about Lorraine Desmond’s pretty sure no matter how friendly those crisp white uniforms and soft blue military berets make the agents look, he feels like they’re even more of a wild card than the Dragon.
         “I mean, probably the easiest way to deal with him would be a bunch of lawsuits. He’s a private citizen; he doesn’t have the resources or extremely good lawyers to be able to persist in the face of that. What they’d charge him with depends on how much credence they’d want to give what he’s saying. Exposing company secrets if they just really don’t care about some people maybe believing him. Business defamation, maybe, if they want people to put less stock in it. Still running up against the Streisand effect, but for better or worse suing somebody out of the public eye can be pretty effective.” At Desmond’s stare, she explains, “...If you try to silence the truth, that makes the truth more convincing, but if someone stops talking even if there’s good reasons for it, enough might believe it’s a publicity stunt.”
         “That’s scarier than your exploding trick,” he tells her honestly, and she laughs.
         “Tell that to the other kids when we’re playing hide and shriek.” She’s definitely a little more comfortable. Not just with him, that he’s older, but in her own skin, getting a better grip on her own powers. Good for her.
         He hesitates. On one hand, that might just be a normal thing, and if he questions it and it is, he’ll feel just that little more left out. On the other hand, this might be a good opportunity for him to actually get more honest about his past with people, and mostly, he’s just really, really curious. “Okay, what’s that?”
         She laughs a little self-consciously. “It’s an Innsmouth Academy thing. Two students astrally project and then use rune-magic to try to locate and scare each other.”
         Okay, on one hand, that’s definitely...weird, and maybe a little fun, but also...oddly enough, it’s actually helping him feel a little more normal. “When I was a kid, we strapped on little wooden versions of these,” he taps the Hidden Blade on one side, “...and ran around pretending to try to kill each other.”
         Carter laughs, grinning at him. Her self-consciousness vanishes, like that makes her feel more normal, too. “And you call me dangerous.” He feels Alice glance up all of a sudden like she can sense him even mentioning the Hidden Blade.
         “Food!” Nate exclaims, the slouch as he walks in disappearing entirely. “Thanks, John.”
         “Some people might look at all this and say it’s nothing special—and, in a sense, it isn’t. I’m not doing anything fancy with it. But sometimes, a person needs simplicity, especially in the midst of a complex situation, and no matter how simple food is the basis of community, of culture, of society.” It’s unclear how much Nate actually hears, given how he’s wolfing down the food even more than the actual wolf in the kitchen, but it seems John has had enough rest and food to be philosophical again. He moves aside for Alice to come wash her hands, though he does put a box right in front of the sink just to make it easy for her to reach. The only reason she doesn’t take offense, Desmond suspects, is because he does it without missing a beat.
         “It’s easy to take it for granted until it’s gone,” Desmond agrees. Actually having to try to improvise due to lack of ingredients, for all of Bill’s pretense at teaching them self-sufficiency, hadn’t really been too much of a priority. He’d gotten more of that living on his own on a budget than he had from the entirety of his time on the Farm.
         “Oh, uh. Hi, Boss.” Nate sounds a little embarrassed. He stuffs another slice into his mouth and practically doesn’t chew, but he manages not to choke, so it’s not like Desmond has to step in.
         “Hey, Nate.” Desmond stretches and leans back from where he’d been hunching over his phone.
         “What’s up for today?” From the sound of it Nate, at least, thinks his part of dealing with the leftovers of the Park is done.
         Alice isn’t even pretending not to listen from where she’s sitting now. She’s enjoying breakfast as she alternates between staring at them and at Bob, who has apparently discovered a fly that decided indoors was a good idea and is now probably regretting its decision now that it’s being pursued by a baby ak’ab. “Well, we were going to bring Carter back to the Academy, and then—”
         His phone rings. He’d almost forgotten he’d been holding it. Maybe he’s still a little groggy, after all. Or—more like drained. Makes sense, though, that it’d take a bit for him to replenish all that energy. “Hello?” he asks cautiously, because enough people have been getting his number that it could be anyone.
         “Your actions just killed an incarnation, not the Bogeyman’s existence, but take heart, for even that is a victory few can claim,” the voice recites, and he relaxes a little. It’s been a while since he’s heard from Rogêt. Of course, the last time she’d called she’d sent him straight into a confrontation with Beaumont, so it’s probably not a good idea to relax too much.
         “Thanks.” That sounds more like it was a possession, but if the Bogeyman has to put more effort into building up again, it’s still helpful. “Everything going fine back there in Kingsmouth?”
         “It’s not fixed, but it’s better.” She sounds less far away, now, back in the present. “Winter and Henderson weren’t behind everything on this island, but their prodding stirred things better left sleeping, and without their touch the wound can start to heal. The ravens that aren’t ravens don’t croak so loudly, and they’re outnumbered by the real ones, now. The wendigos, I hear from the friendly Council folks, are retreating back into the occasional tourist hazard. The ghosts have returned to rest. The last are the zombies and the draug, and the occasional black tendril, and those can be dealt with in time.” She’s starting to sound a little hazier again. “I had to tell you, before it went: a new vision. Go to the roving eye to hatch the future. It might help you with your sorceror.”
         “Your visions have always been pretty helpful.” If dangerous, he adds in his head.
         As if she can hear that, she responds, “I wouldn’t pass along anything you couldn’t manage, handsome,” and hangs up.
         “I can take Carter back to the Academy and join up with you in a bit, Boss,” Nate offers.
         Carter hesitates for a second before reaching out for a handshake. “Don’t be a stranger, now!” she tells him, and he grins.
         “I’ll visit the Academy again later,” he promises, and she nods and turns to Nate.
         “Well, come on. I’m sure Montag is waiting to hear how the whole ‘field trip’ went.” She’s apparently still in that playful mood.
         “Help me,” Nate mouths, but he goes along anyway.
         “Now we have to figure out what she meant by ‘roving eye’,” Desmond tells Alice and Lydia, who both just stare at him.
         “The lighthouse?” Lydia asks, which...the sarcasm is kinda rude, but she’s also a fairly young adult so maybe he should’ve expected that.
         “Fair enough.” He’s not going to get defensive. It’s not like he’d been the riddle guy on the best of days, and this isn’t the best of days. “Okay, let’s get out there, then.”