Edge of the Sea

[madimpossibledreamer]

Not that it comes up, because we only hear of the conspiracy theorist guy across the street from John Wolfe in this one, but I’d forgotten entirely that the ISBN clue for his mission is different depending on the language of the game client you’re using, and I think that’s cool.
Red’s comment about playing the board is word for word from the game.
I had intended to go in the order I played it, but once going through this again it just seemed more like the Academy made a better ending to the ‘Savage Coast’ content.
The conversation with Lydia was a long time in coming, in that I think I’d had the general outline written since, oh, the Orochi camp. I wasn’t sure where I’d place it, though, and actually thought about having it in the next part, but it fit well here.

Main Points: Assassin's Creed/The Secret World
Summary: Desmond and Alice rejoin the others, and Desmond has a Mentor conversation he'd been planning for a while.
Word Count: 3413
Rating: Teen

 

        Of course, the flaw in Desmond’s plan quickly becomes obvious the second they arrive at the Anima Well. He can’t see any sign of Nate or the others. And sure, this is back at the back, not inside the Academy with its wards, but he can’t feel them nearby, either. It’s not like they’d had the time to hash out any real details to the plan, but they hadn’t even coordinated where they were going to meet.
        “We went to Red’s,” Nate explains when called. “I’d thought about the Academy, but…” But the Illuminati hadn’t done too good a job keeping the kids safe thus far, yeah. “And the Council is already having enough trouble with supplies and room.”
        “Good idea. We’ll come meet you.” The issue is what route they’re going to take. He trots over to the crumbling hole in the wall around the Academy, staring out in what feels like the correct direction (that’s it, he has to climb or go someplace high in the next area of Solomon Island, too; the general feel for an area without a map using viewpoints is way too useful to ignore), and he doesn’t particularly like what he sees. He’s pretty sure those red shapes all over the landscape around weird fires are cultist zombies, which he hates tangling with and isn’t particularly in the mood to fight right now. And those, swarming over what might be a stream—he’s ticked off the Draug, it looks like, which he’d usually be happy about but right now it’s just a pain. He’d think about going hunting for more leaders, but they’re behaving differently than usual. There’s some kind of coordination, but not one coherent plan, so he gets the feeling that maybe, actually, he had managed to take out one or more of the leaders around the houses, and that there’s some kind of succession feud going on right now. Good in some ways, especially if they start fighting each other, but bad in others, since that sometimes means a little more desperation when it comes to moves. Like trying to get Desmond’s head on a pike, or something. The roads might be the best way, honestly, even though he’s not looking forward to that either, because those aren’t clear. Sure, it’s maybe just the occasional running zombie, but it’s still a pain.
        He maybe is stalling a little as he calls the Council and checks in with Danny. The Council of Venice is actually really unsettled. Javier apparently had returned, stalking around and growling but actually condescendingly and aggressively offering his help and asking increasingly weird questions. They don’t know what to make of it and they’re freaking out. Desmond isn’t completely sure if it means he’s having an existential crisis or if he’s actually rethinking his life priorities, but either way it’s probably a good thing? Even if it’s just causing them even more stress. 
        Danny reports that he’d finally managed to hack into some footage and Krieg’s fan actually fled the island before the shit hit the fan. Somehow? Maybe he got spooked from one of Krieg’s stories, the ones that seem vaguely prophetic. Still, that pretty much rules him out as the contact Desmond’s been anonymously tipped to go look for. Madame Rogêt doesn’t have anything other than a headache, but she’s pleased (and, it sounds like, kind of surprised) that he even called to check on her. Desmond would be more insulted if he thought she was making an assumption about him, rather than getting the sense that it’s more the treatment she’s used to in the past.
        He’s kind of surprised to get a text from Moose, but it’s actually good news for a change, and it makes him smile. 

Moose: he was surprised but he’s giving me a chance at least

        The only correct response to that is a thumb’s up, so Desmond sends one. Hopefully he can actually get some happiness from this whole messed up situation. And hey, maybe Andy will, too—given some of the stories he’d told about his family and the town, he needs something good even if he doesn’t realize that his life before now was anything but typical.
        Rukh, meanwhile, takes off toward the creek, and before Desmond can put his phone away and start sprinting after, dives at the water (which he hates, so that’s...different), flies circles around what seem to be increasingly angry Draug, and flies back. Desmond finally works out what Rukh’s doing when he sees a very thin dog melt out of the shadows to meekly take something the raven drops. His bird has apparently decided it’s his duty to make sure Katherine gets fed. “Nice going, Rukh,” he calls when Rukh gets close enough. The bird starts preening, but it seems like he’s also taking some pleasure in getting Desmond’s shoulder wet, the brat.
        “It is possible to travel to a Well you have not been near, if more difficult,” Alice informs him carefully. He’s not sure if she’s trying not to laugh. It’s probably a useful trick to know, and situations like this are what it’s practically made for, so he nods and follows her lead.
        “I am not doing that again unless I have to,” Desmond declares the second he’s back to something resembling reality, because this time it felt kind of like when he was in the Animus and getting pulled apart, kinda, and yeah, no. Unfairly, Alice seems perfectly fine.
        “It is easier for some,” she admits, like a kind of apology. Maybe this is one of those few places where he can’t just bullshit through a connection substituting the Calculations for actually being a Bee. Maybe this is something Dragon training concentrates on—it’s not like Shaun had bothered teaching things like wards or drawing from Anima Wells, probably in his panic about trying to make sure Desmond at least had the basics to not die too often. He does get the feeling that even for all that, Alice might have had an interest in perfecting the technique to be able to sneak out, before she’d been convinced by the Dragon that being a good little pseudo-dragon and staying put was what she was supposed to do, and that Nate might just have a natural aptitude and that’s why he’d introduced himself first as somebody who could obtain items or information. A courier with that kind of skill would be an asset.
        Honestly, given the way she’s looking at him now, hesitantly trying to figure out whether to awkwardly pat him in the small parking lot, maybe being bad at this is a good thing. Maybe a little dangerous in the long run, but also maybe that just means he’s going to have to train and ask for help when he needs it. She still sees him as an authority, yeah, but the sooner she gets it through her head that he’s not infallible, the better, probably. And on that note, maybe he should actually say that out loud. “Guess I can’t be good at everything, right?”
        She smiles hesitantly, but nods. A little reluctantly, but. She’ll get the hang of it eventually.
        Rukh takes off and keeps alternating between wheeling around to check out the area and coming back to perch on the car and look at Desmond, concerned. Which is appreciated, a little, but Desmond also completely gets the feeling that he’s overdoing it slightly, mocking him, which is less appreciated. But then, what had he been expecting from his raven?
        It’s...interesting, here. A car and a truck that for the first time since Desmond’s been here aren’t broken, damaged, or being attacked by zombies. The interesting contrast of the teepee, table of mushrooms, and what looks like a collection of hubcaps on the wall. Desmond actually gets briefly sidetracked trying to remember if any of the tribes Ratonhnhaké:ton knew used them, but realizes halfway through it doesn’t matter too much, not at the moment anyway. The sound of seagulls, only really noticeable because it’s the first time Desmond has seen or heard them, and that’s even with this being an island and having been near the water, recently. An actual smell of seawater, and not just decay and blood. Don’t get him wrong, those are there, but this is the first time there’s been a sign of what life might have been like before everything went wrong. He even, past the Draug crowding the bay, can see what he assumes are fishing boats and what might be traps for...crab? Lobster? Connor hadn’t really gone for sea life that Desmond can remember, so he can’t make a good guess there, but from what he can see, he guesses that Red’s store is probably taking advantage of the local abundance of seafood opportunities to sell to tourists.
        “Well, we’re here, and I’m starting to catch my breath, so let’s go join them.” Alice takes his hand, and then they move toward the front of the store.
        Now they’re near enough to hear the people inside, though, and it’s just in time to hear Red say, “You always play the whole board, even when you know you’re losing.”
        Desmond freezes, a little light-headed all of a sudden, but he follows along when Alice leads him carefully. She noticed, he’s pretty sure, and is trying to help him save face or whatever and not be completely obvious about it.
        The response of the little girl in the striped pink-and-white hoodie as she’s staring at the chessboard doesn’t help, either. “But this is no fun.” She glances up and grins, waving. “Oh, cool, visitors. You’re probably looking for your other friends over there by the tent. Ooh, and you’ve got a raven. That’s way better than a baby killer moth.”
        Rukh preens again, puffing up.
        Desmond glances over, and yeah—there’s this small hangout spot with couches and a table next to the fireplace, but that quickly transitions to a slightly empty store. Some camping gear, some fishing gear, a couple of emergency gas cans and radios and first aid kits, but Desmond gets the idea that Red probably makes most of his money selling experiences, not stuff. None of the radios are on, which is good, but John has proven that’s not much of an obstacle in the past, so Desmond’s half expecting one of them to just turn on at some point to try to talk to him.
        “Good to see you made it in one piece,” Red tells him, and then, probably assuming he’s just going to go right over to Nate and Lydia and the twins, goes right back to talking to...Kyra or Ami, Desmond’s not sure which. Yet. “Few people say chess is fun, and of those I suspect most of them would be lying. But you said you were bored, and you have to learn this someday.”
        “I’m Ami. We’ll try to help how we can,” the woman he doesn’t recognize kneeling by the twins tells him, and that solves that little mystery. “I’m afraid I can only help them naturally heal faster.”
        “After taking a look, I’m pretty sure they were both exposed to the Filth, so they can use any help you can give,” Nate tells her, and she nods and goes back behind the cash register. It sounds like she’s using a mortar and pestle back there. Lydia wanders over to the counter and leans over to watch. Maybe it’s interesting in an...alchemy way, or something. Desmond doesn’t know the right word for it. Shaun would, but he’s not here to play encyclopedia.
        “Chess is still boring,” Kyra complains in the background.
        “Agreed,” Lydia states with a grin. Looks like she’s getting along with Kyra, too. Maybe she had younger siblings, cousins, kids she babysat, or maybe she just wanted siblings.
        Nate continues quietly, mostly just to Desmond. “That’s the only reason I can think for them not waking up yet. I’ve healed them pretty much all I can, and I don’t think you should use your powers to push out the Filth if you don’t have to, boss. You’re still recovering.”
        Red’s conversation with Kyra behind them isn’t helping Desmond’s concentration, but...whatever, it’s not like it’s on purpose. “You have to learn to think strategically. You will inherit Ami’s gift someday, and you will have to learn to be ready. It is dangerous.”
        And then Desmond notices Lydia lean over the edge of the counter and quickly and carefully pocket what looks like another bottle of alcohol, and okay, right, that’s enough. He’s put off talking to her about it for too long, probably. She might not be an alcoholic, but she’s definitely leaning on it for stress relief, and as a vaguely responsible for her sort of adult, Desmond’s kind of been elected to speak to her. As much as he’s really kind of not looking forward to it.
        “Hey, Lydia, you got a moment?” She doesn’t start guiltily, which is good, in some ways. If she was using her pickpocketing and theft for good, instead of just for herself. It does mean he doesn’t have to teach her some skills. But it does also mean that she doesn’t feel the slightest hint of guilt when it comes to stealing from people who have been nice and helpful, and that’s not so good.
        “Yeah, sure, Desmond.” She walks over casually, and Alice drops his hand.
        He’s not sure if she noticed, too, or if she just knows he’s doing something and doesn’t want to get in the way. Instead, she goes over to politely offer her help to Ami. Rukh hops over to the cash register to take a peek, too, blinking and turning his head like he actually is learning something, which can only help, really.
        Desmond decides to clear a path right next to the dock, and these particular Draug don’t seem too happy about it, but they scatter, which is...unusual. Most of them tend to be really aggressive. Maybe the local leader is more of a fan of caution. That’s something interesting to take note of.
        And then he can just sit down and dangle his feet over the water, and with reluctance Lydia follows suit.
        He holds out his hand. “The bottle,” he says out loud, when she looks at his hand pretending like she doesn’t know what he wants from her, and her reaction is interesting.
        Sure, she’s sneering and snide a lot, but this is defensive, the sort of response that one has when the place they thought was a safe haven turns out not to be. “I didn’t think the guy with the tattoos would turn out to be so straight-laced,” she spits, like it’s an insult. It’s probably supposed to be.
        And the details that come to mind are definitely not the sort of thoughts you should be sharing with someone barely out of her teenage years. Or, you know, most people you don’t plan to sleep with. “I’m not,” he says simply. Her seething rage disappears abruptly in complete confusion, mostly because she didn’t expect to hear him actually say that out loud, he expects. Sure, she knows about Shaun and that he’s a mess, but he hasn’t actually gone and talked about most of this stuff much. “And, separately, yes, I think American laws on drinking age are a bunch of bullshit. That doesn’t mean you just go ignore them anyway, or steal from people trying to help us.”
        “So why the hell should we care?” The anger is mostly reflexive at this point, because she’s too confused to put in any extra oomph.
        “I used to be a bartender, but stores aren’t magically exempt. You wanna know what happens to the unlucky person on the other end?” He waits, patiently, but she doesn’t manage an answer. “They could be jailed. They could face a hefty fine. They may be fired, and they might be semi-blacklisted from the industry. Sure, you might personally get more of a punishment if you use fake ID, but even the potential fine is a fraction of what the bartender or storekeeper is gonna deal with. I’m cool with breaking the law when necessary, but this very much isn’t necessary and you run the risk of dragging somebody else into your shit. And as a former bartender, you’re definitely showing some of the signs that made me keep a closer eye on a patron.”
        By the look of her expression, she very much hadn’t realized any of that. “So...what are you saying?”
        “I’m not going to cut you off entirely, but you’re returning that bottle and if you’ve got a problem, we deal with that. At minimum, you’ve got homework. Find out where you can legally drink. If that’s nowhere we end up going, we’ll hit the bar in Agartha—in moderation, because I don’t like the thought of myself or anyone else being completely drunk on those platforms, and also because we can’t head back every day.”
        “...You manage to make being responsible seem almost cool.” That’s an ‘okay, I’ve got it’, he suspects. For everything Ezio had to deal with, at least he dodged this.
        “I’ll take that as the insult it’s meant as.” He doesn’t quite manage to keep a straight face, but it’s fine; he hadn’t meant to fully pull that off, anyway. And then he moves on to something he really should have said a while ago, if he’d been a responsible Mentor. “Also, I’m going to talk to Chelsea if she feels like coming back and once we’ve dealt with the whole Templar situation, but it’s not just her.” He’s pretty sure she will want to, but he’s also trying not to count on it when he doesn’t know for sure. “Try not to rile up everyone too much. You’ve been trying to provoke her the most, but it’s messing with your teamwork. I don’t care how you do it, but you need to figure out how to work better with a variety of people and have each other’s backs. You don’t need to be best friends with everyone, but if arguing gets someone killed, that’s a problem.”
        Lydia takes a deep breath, trying and not quite managing to release the defensive stance she’s taken. “Chelsea isn’t...super accepting of alternative lifestyles.”
        Which is also a problem, yeah, but she’s not taking any of the responsibility herself. “Why do you think I sent her off with Javier?”
        She blinks, but she’s actually thinking about it now. “...I’d thought it was mostly to carry secret love letters the Templars wouldn’t intercept.”
        She’s finding the most teasing way she can think of to put it, but she’s not completely wrong. “That was part of it, yeah. Part of it was to get the Templars off our back so we’re not having to deal with them and Beaumont. But honestly, I might not have to talk to her. According to Rebecca, Shaun hasn’t been the most subtle, so even somebody who seems pretty sheltered has to figure it out sooner or later, and if she says something rude...let’s just say Rebecca’s a lot less polite than I am.” She is. Mostly. That being said, if Chelsea does end up reacting badly when she figures it out, Rebecca will eat her alive. Hell, he’d rather tick off Shaun—sure, it’d hurt, but Rebecca Crane is probably the scariest person Desmond knows and he really doesn’t want to find out firsthand what her vengeance looks like.
        Lydia looks intrigued. Now that he’s thinking about, Lydia if she manages to get on Rebecca’s good side to team up and not tick her off would be a holy terror, but there’s no chance of them pulling that off yet. It seems like as good a time as any to finish off the lecture. He doesn’t want to repeat himself, but given that she hadn’t actually directly responded to his request, he’s going to have to.
        “Work on not provoking everyone and on your teamwork. My raven definitely isn’t the judgmental type, and you managed to tick him off. I think he forgave you, but that’s still difficult.” Well. That’s not entirely true. Rukh is. But he doesn’t take things personally easily. It’s more...ambient arrogance, or something. Equal-opportunity judging.
        That makes her laugh, and she looks away. “Yeah, okay, point taken. I’ll...think about it.”
        She takes his hand when he tries to help her up without a moment’s hesitation.