Crap, I forgot to smush in this one. Originally posted here: http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2158.html?thread=11300974#cmt11300974
Desmond gulped. "Um, listen, I'm really tired, what with all the time traveling and you almost shanking me and me setting my hand on fire. And it's a really, really long story and it'll probably piss you off a lot." He determinedly closed his eyes.
"Were you being tortured in that chair?"
"You could call it that. Haytham, I'm really tired--"
"The people torturing you, putting you in that, that machine. Were they Templars? Or assassins?"
"Both, actually."
"Ah." A pause. "How typical." The words were barely audible, so loaded with loathing that Desmond felt sick--the pain in every careful inflection overwhelmed him so. "Well, sleep well, lad. You're safe now." And just like that, Haytham's voice was gentle again.
Desmond kept his eyes shut--he had no hope of figuring out how to get out of this situation, this whole century, if he had to invent his story on the fly, trying to keep out of whatever dungeons they threw crazy people in during the American Revolution. Obviously the greatest threat to him right now was Connor, who didn't want to give him the benefit of any doubt--
Was Haytham fucking Kenway actually tucking him in??
And despite his best efforts to stay awake and plan, he fell asleep immediately.
Displaced 3.5/?, Desmond Deserves Donuts, Connor Can't Concur, Haytham Has...uh...Issues
Desmond gulped. "Um, listen, I'm really tired, what with all the time traveling and you almost shanking me and me setting my hand on fire. And it's a really, really long story and it'll probably piss you off a lot." He determinedly closed his eyes.
"Were you being tortured in that chair?"
"You could call it that. Haytham, I'm really tired--"
"The people torturing you, putting you in that, that machine. Were they Templars? Or assassins?"
"Both, actually."
"Ah." A pause. "How typical." The words were barely audible, so loaded with loathing that Desmond felt sick--the pain in every careful inflection overwhelmed him so. "Well, sleep well, lad. You're safe now." And just like that, Haytham's voice was gentle again.
Desmond kept his eyes shut--he had no hope of figuring out how to get out of this situation, this whole century, if he had to invent his story on the fly, trying to keep out of whatever dungeons they threw crazy people in during the American Revolution. Obviously the greatest threat to him right now was Connor, who didn't want to give him the benefit of any doubt--
Was Haytham fucking Kenway actually tucking him in??
And despite his best efforts to stay awake and plan, he fell asleep immediately.