➢ ; I am an Assassin .

“Yeah, I’m gonna go ahead and say something bad’s about to happen.”

          Today was supposed to be the day that he spent leisurely. The last couple had been spent patrolling, investigating, and sticking his nose in places it shouldn't be. It was his self declared day off, where he would try and maybe make the house he'd been assigned look more than like a half-crumbling fallout shelter, or maybe just take a walk.

          Somewhere along the way, while he was deciding between one or the other and perhaps some other things he could do that wouldn't exhaust him or stress him out, apparently some other people had different ideas.

          It was when he turned a corner to pass through an area he wasn't familiar with that his plans went sour- he was still trying to learn the streets, and navigating new places was a good enough practice to get into. Everything looked different from street level, and until most of it was rebuilt he couldn't rely on free-running his way through town.

          Now, what concerned him most was not the knife that was suddenly pressed against his spine when he passed a dark doorway; it was the fact that he hadn't seen it coming, or sensed it at all. He's not clairvoyant or any shit like that but thanks to his Assassin heritage and what he had learned in the animus he liked to believe he at least had a little fucking advantage over common muggers. C'mon brain, get your shit together!

➢ ; "Gimme everythin' y'got n' y'can walk away." The high nasally voice wasn't what he was expecting, and Desmond gave a quizzical look at nothing in particular.

➢ ; "Jesus christ... Look, guy, you don't want to do this. It's a really bad idea, y'know?"

          His response was pretty cliche, but it was all he could think to say. His lower back tingled uncomfortably and he felt a serious sense of discomfort.

➢ ; "Did I say y'could talk?!"

          The knife shifted and Desmond acted on instinct, that tingle in his spine moving him before his brain did- he dropped flat and swept he legs out from his would be assailant, knocking him on his ass and forcing the air from his lungs. Immediately following, Desmond lurched backwards, pinning he mans’ arm down and kicking the knife into the shadows.

➢ ; "And I told you that this was a horrible idea, asshole. Now please tell me that you don't have any buddies skulking around here?"

          As if on cue, two figures came sprinting to their cohorts aid from unseen parts of the area, like the Curly and Mo of the skeeve world. Further down the street, he caught sight of someone standing at the corner, and his first instinct was to call out to them. He didn't know if they'd been there the whole time, but he'd rather err on the side of caution and get them out of there. Hopefully they weren't also apart of this motley crew of morons.

➢ ; "Hey! You might want to turn around, these guys aren't exactly your neighborhood welcoming committee!"

          One of the many things that definitely told Desmond that this island was something entirely separate from where he came from, was the fact that he had been brought here with the Apple of Eden in his possession. It hadn't been ripped from his person and it wasn't just mysteriously displaced. Honestly he wasn't sure if he was glad or concerned, since by all rights he shouldn't have access to this thing- but at the same time, he was the only one who could use it responsibly without going batshit wacko.

          However he wasn't sure if it would work the same here, if at all. So what was the logical thing to do? Of course it was to find an empty, cut off section of the slowly rebuilding city and testing it out. He didn't want to be anywhere near people while figuring it out because of how dangerous it was, and he couldn't just very well go on without knowing the extent of its abilities in this place. He sure as hell didn't want to reach for it in an emergency and find out it was a glorified rubiks cube. Sphere?

          Desmond spent good amount of time trying to find somewhere secluded enough- luckily there were a lot of broken down buildings, he just needed to find one far enough away from the listless workers that when he used the Apple he didn't cause some kind of panic in them. Yet... he wasn't sure he needed to worry about that in the first place. Better safe than sorry though.

          Once tucked inside what used to be probably a convenience store, or perhaps a bar of some sort, he gave a cursory glance around with his Eagle Vision. He saw spots that glowed with long forgotten blood and other Substances, but nothing recent or living. A shiver went up his spine, but he shook it off along with the Vision.

          Taking a breath, the man pulled the glowing golden orb from his pocket and raised it out in front of him. Around chest height, he willed it to life... with a brilliant light show, the illusion in his mind flooded around him in the dilapidated structure. In a blink of an eye, the walls were whole again, the rubble gone, and a warm welcoming light breathed into existence. As he looked around, he felt a pang in his heart. He had summoned an illusory lookalike of his old club, Bad Weather. He could see the illusion, but to him it was watery and semi-translucent; to anyone viewing it from the outside it would appear as solid and real as if he had just summoned a miracle into this broken down structure.

➢ ; "...I miss this place." 

          He murmured under his breath, reaching out as though to touch the familiar counter top, even though he knew his fingers would pass right through it. Others could touch it and feel it- it would feel solid and real, but as the one who created it... it was nothing more than a happy memory.

          Desmond didn't notice the woman who had been watching him.

         There was a distinct difference between 'people' and 'arrivals' here in the city. For one, they all acted rather blandly, like anything outside their current takt was too trivial to pay attention to. They'd give directions and be generally 'just helpful enough' before returning to whatever they were doing. To test this weird feeling out, Desmond even went as far as to call one an asshole and flip him off in typical New York style, but nothing came of it except a weirdly blank stare.

         Aside from the heebie jeebies, he gained nothing from the experience and simply resorted to using his Eagle Vision on a crowd of them. Much to his concern but unsurprise, they appeared nearly colorless and as bland as their personalities. Every once in a while he'd encounter someone with color, but they were either passing by or seemed busy in their own scurrying around.

         After a little while he simply resorted to people watching, blending in with the crowd to see who would pop up- it seemed an interesting test to see how the other 'arrivals' treated these weirdly unenthused people. Maybe he could even spot some new faces that didn't look exceptionally antisocial.

         What he hadn't expected as he gently proceeded through the pedestrian traffic, as sparse as it was, was to see a little girl wreathed in a shimmering aura of colors, wandering about on her own. The bottom of his stomach fell out and he felt immediate concern. What the hell was this place that it let little children go about a disaster zone all by themselves?!

         With a cursory glance around to confirm there was no other person if interest, he called out to the girl and approached slowly, making sure his hood was down and he didn't seem like some perv approaching a child. His tone was gentle and worried, a frown drawing his eyebrows together.

➢ ; "Hey kid, are you okay? Are you lost, or hurt, or anything?"

Genuine concern was written all over his face.

@averageassassin

There were far too many people who assumed that if you were a military man in a higher position either you were completely strict without a sense of fun or else you were a decadent lush. Both extremes would, at some point, cause a man to crack, which is why Swain had made it part of his lifestyle to try and find the time to do things of enjoyment in moderation. Whether it be taking walks, reading, or enjoying the pleasures of casual drinking and fraternisation, it was the sort of thing that helped keep a man sane.

Keeping that in mind, during these trying times nothing could help a man better understand the world around him than a nightcap. Or, at the very least, allow the circumstances to be better soothed into the conscious understanding. So now here he was, the Grand General of Noxus, looking for a bottle of something. Wine would have been the preference, but failing that beer or even a hard liquor would do the trick. At least he wasn’t alone in this enterprise, as someone else was making their way inside.

“There seems to be a shortage of fine vintages here, but if you help me look a bit I’m sure there must be a bottle or two of brew for this sweltering heat!”

          In a city that was pretty well demolished and in a tight place, Desmond supposed there wasn't much he could complain about if there were only a couple of functioning bars in the area. From what he could tell, this was the only one within a few mile radius of his house and it was ironically called The Last Place. He didn't know if that was intended to be something along the lines of 'the last place you'll remember' or if it had really shitty beer but at this point he wasn't going to complain.

          All he wanted was a drink; he'd been wandering around town all day and he was beat, plus he honestly just wanted to know what exactly this town considered a line-up of brews and spirits. He wouldn't call himself an alcohol snob, but he did have a certain level of expectations... you couldn't exactly get away from a life as a bartender without some quality of life, especially if it was New York!

          As he began to approach the door, a rather impressive looking man began heading the same way- though it didn't seem like he meant to stride along side Desmond himself, it caught the Assassin off guard when he was addressed directly.

➢ ; "Oh, uh-"

          Eyebrows knitted together. What.

➢ ; "I mean, sure? I'm looking for something good myself, so I guess we're in the same boat." 

          He cleared his throat a tad, adjusting himself. He felt a little out of place beside this guy. Yeesh.

A neat idea that I never really thought of in Hive is a Permanent relationship call! It sounds like a good way to meet people and get Desmond the social network he yearns for. What this means is that I can send you IMs, asks, or a discord message [if you’d prefer that platform!] to ask about and discuss relationship goals between your character and Des.

 Also write you starters, or direct minis your way, with permission/notification of course! If your character has a phone we can do texts too, but I promise if you don’t like chat speak you won’t like Desmond’s texting habits. And generally just have a connection between our muses! If they’re buddies, they can pal around and drink, or if they’re enemies Desmond can find ways to assassinate them- cough.

Anyway! A few things to know about Desmond:

He’s shaped like a friend. This man becomes attached to anyone who treats him kindly and fairly, and tends to generally be friendly with anyone who doesn’t immediately present themselves as Horrible.

Ya boy is an assassin though, and if he marks anyone as an enemy or someone worth keeping track of, it’s not unlikely that he will attempt to assassinate them if they get out of hand.

He is human, but still highly skilled as a mortal. He is vulnerable to anyone with supernatural abilities, but will still try his damnedest.

 A bartender who in a perfect world would rather not be someone who knows as much as he does, but still feels the need to help people.

Below are different types of relationships; while it isn’t all of the kinds, since relationships are complex and beautifully chaotic things, they’re the basics to get us started!

Allies People who while he doesn’t exactly get along with, they can still be counted on in tough times or emergencies. They’ll come to arms when he asks or can be counted on in a pinch, and he’ll be the same for them. They may not share views or opinions, but they share respect. They may not talk as often, but when they do it tends to be more tactical; this can grow to be something more, but it leans more towards business than casual. They are outlined in a light blue in Eagle vision.

Friends/Companions Those who he gets along with and they mutually enjoy spending time with each other. They’re people who he considers close enough to actually call them friends, and will be there for them emotionally if they need him. Likewise they will be people he feels confident enough to share details about his emotional state or life that he wouldn’t just blurt out to any random stranger. These are people he’ll drink with, people he’ll laugh with, and people he may one day graduate to family or close friends. They are outlined in green in Eagle Vision.

Close friends/Family As above, these are people who have grown in his heart to be very dear to him, and he will give all that he can to protect and keep safe, as well as who he will trust with his secrets and deeper concerns and wishes. These are the people he will seek out in his darkest periods and whom he wishes to share the best moments with. He wants nothing but the best for these people, and will go even as far as to put his life on the line for them. They are outlined in purple in Eagle Vision.

Of the Creed Fellow Assassins! Though this is more directed towards those who are actually in the Brotherhood canonically, this can extend to anyone who not only finds out about the Brotherhood, but swears to uphold the creed and ideals that are set before them. Other than his castmates, this is open to anyone who is aware of the Assassins or become aware of the Assassins, and know to approach him about it. They are Outlined in an a shimmering gold/white color in Eagle Vision.

Informants Similar to allies but on a much more discreet level. These are people who Desmond seeks out for intel and intel alone, offering either goods or services in return for the information. These are people who aren’t very interested in being friends so much as tactful business partners, and are likely given aliases in his phone. These relationships are expected/intended to be quieter, and on the side of caution. The use of texts is more prominent with these contacts, and meetups will be rare unless necessary. They are outlined in a dark blue in Eagle Vision.

Watchlist People who have performed acts that are eyebrow raising and concerning, but haven’t outwardly caused harm or disruption in the crowd. They may be people he has met and is leery of, or people he has heard of by ear and were warned against. He will keep tabs on them either personally or by earning information from his contacts about them. They are the ones that are outlined in Yellow when he uses Eagle Vision.

Enemies The ones who made the shitlist. This includes but is not limited to, people who are violent, evil, aggressive, cruel, or people whom he has been informed of as dangerous and potential threats. They are people who have threatened him or someone he is on good terms with, and who pick fights with him or other citizens. Anyone he meets who falls under this category are outlined in red in Eagle Vision.

Rivals Those who while not aggressive towards him, challenge him and one up him. This is neither a negative or a positive relationship, but they are the ones that make him want to do better- to perform better. They’re a neutral ground that don’t exactly fall in the lines of allies or enemies, but push him enough to achieve bigger heights. These people are outlined in orange in Eagle Vision.

Other As one would expect, what I’ve listed above isn’t the full range of relationship that a person can have, and there is a wide variety of feelings and emotions that go into knowing a person. If you’d like to maybe plot out something that doesn’t fit quite into any one of those above, this is the one for you!

          Upon his entry to the City, Desmond didn't expect much. Hell, all he had been expecting was blackness, since his last memories were of his literal death -which by the way, sucks-. Or maybe even some sort of afterlife, though he wasn't one hundred percent convinced that he wasn't in some version of hell-that-wasn't-actually-that-bad. However what he was surprised to see was how demolished everything was. It was actually quite concerning.

          He had seen news reports before of cities in the US that had been ravaged by natural disasters. Earthquakes, tornadoes, floods, hurricanes, et cetera et cetera, but this was the first time he had ever been somewhere that resembled those scenes, personally. It was unsettling, to say the least. It reminded him of the imagery he had seen when Juno had first given him the ultimatum, and it gave him the most unpleasant feeling in his left hand.

          However Desmond was a genius and decided that when he turned a corner and found a mostly intact building with no one in sight, that it was a fantastic idea to try and make an ascent up the wall to get a better view of the area with his Eagle Vision. 

          As one can probably guess, he was in fact quite the idiot and after reaching the roof of the squat building, he took a single step feeling incredibly satisfied with himself before plummeting through the compromised stability of what had used to be either some kind of small shop or garage, and into a heap of debris and pride that was wounded more than he had been physically in the fall.

➢ ; "Fucking fantastic Desmond. Just be grateful that A, you didn't break your goddamn neck, and B, no one was around to see it."

The Mun’s name is Aryn, or if you were around a few years ago you might recognize me as Desmun! I’ve decided to try my hand at shenanigans after all this time now that I’m fairly confident in my ability to manage my time. 

Desmond was around Hive City for some time before the migration, but has since been absent for a long while- and upon coming to Isola Radiale, his memories of Hive are scrambled and hazy; he remembers intermittently and haphazardly and isn’t quite sure what all of it means! He’ll begin to understand past relationships and recognize people as time goes on, but for the most part, he’ll be starting nearly brand new.

Mostly his goals are to understand his situation and what’s going on in the city around him, but he isn’t too concerned with the migration itself. He remembers his death from his world vividly and knows there’s nothing left for him to go ‘back’ to. That means he’s completely invested in finding information and understanding Isola Radiale as a whole, and is definitely interested in meeting new [or old!] people.

As it stands, I’m interested in forming long-term bonds with him so that he can establish himself in the city, as well as informants and contacts to keep in the know around town. However being an Assassin as well as inclined to helping people out, he’s also bound to make enemies or perhaps some rivals along the way. 

➢ ;           If he had ever actually taken the fall from the skyscrapers in New York, he imagined that this would be what the rush felt like. Only instead of crashing into the ground and discovering what pancakes went through every day, he found himself sprawled unceremoniously on the edge of what appeared to be the biggest, blackest abyss you ever did see.

Memories came rushing in, a quick succession of mental refuse and debris stuffing his head full of emotions and thoughts, flashing across his minds' eye with no rhyme or reason. What was apparent was his most recent memories; the thundering of electrical energy as it rushed through his system, blazing through his arm and into his skull before a yanking sensation brought him here.

As he stood, wobbly and confused, a man behind him called out. With a yelped 'Jesus Christ' he nearly scrambled himself directly off the ledge, whipping around to face the... cab? The hell was going on- wasn't he just...

Where was he just now? His memories of 'home' were vibrant and clear, but... he knew that wasn't the extent of it. The word 'Hive' came to mind but he couldn't exactly place why.

          "Oy, you gettin' in or what? I'm here to take you to your residence."

Desmond cast a leer at the yawning emptiness behind him, chills riding up his spine in a wave. Wherever this was, something told him that even if he were back 'home' he wouldn't have much of a future prospect ahead of him. Maybe this was the afterlife?

The Assassin turned his amber gaze back to the impatient... uh, welcoming committee.

          "Er... y-yeah. Sure. But on the way could you... explain what the hell all this is?"

The man rolled his eyes and shook his head, muttering something under his breath that Des couldn't quite catch before pulling open the rear door.

          "I'll tell you what I can, but more will be explained in time. I got a schedule to keep though, so if you don't mind?" He motioned with the car door as he spoke.

Well, he at least knew he could handle himself if this was some kind of conspiracy kidnapping. He had experience with those.

          "No, yeah. Sorry. Just a little... lost, I guess." Well, no time like the present.

          "Yeah yeah yeah, you and every other poor shmuck I've picked up today."

Desmond frowned at that, but took a welcome step away from the pit and entered the cab. There, he finally rest his eyes on the city around him as the Cabby entered the driver's seat.

This blog has been dead for a while, but upon recent events I’ll be bringing Desmond back for Isola! Hurray! Deadmond! Oof.

He’ll have a faint recollection of Citta but it’ll be hazy for a good long while- I want to keep him mostly ‘vanilla’ personality wise until I’m ready to unlock all the fun things he got involved in, as well as distancing him from relationships and comrades that are no longer present in this new city since he’ll be mostly alone.

Additionally, if you intend on staying with Citta, please unfollow if you haven’t already! I’ve been gone from there for a while so I’m not sure why you stuck around to begin with-