That was the only funeral I’ve been to in my whole entire life. I… I’m not looking forward for the others that are to come.
I feel like something… big is going to happen.
well DUH. its fucking REVELATIONS. It wouldn’t be a Ubisoft game if something big and important didn’t happen.
What the bloody hell do you mean by ‘revelations’? Ubisoft is just a video game company. What would they have to do with anything big and important?
(Source: shaunbloodyhastings)
I feel like something… big is going to happen.
Rebecca’s the tea lover.
Not all Brits drink tea, thank you very much.
No, no, I’m not back. I just found time for my computer because I finally got off guard and cleaning duty. *huffs*
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get some work done.
Why on Earth why I do that?
You’re probably a Templar, Templar. I’m not falling for any of your dirty tricks.
“Yes, Desmond, you could help me with my work.” Shaun says blankly, his fingers pausing for a moment on the keys as he thinks of another word for ‘graceful’. He purses his lips and types in ‘elegantly’ before he turns and looks at Desmond with sarcastic smile.
“And then maybe we could all walk to Abstergo and kindly ask them to stop being so mean to everybody and the war would be over. Hurray! We saved the day, Desmond.” Shaun grins to himself before he turns back to the computer but before he immerses himself in the document’s words, he kicks Desmond’s chair aside gently, trying to give himself some space. He listens to the wheels roll across the ground as Desmond starts to move away.
“No, Desmond.”
Desmond rolls away before frowning and standing up, sighing and walking back over to the man. Shaun could keep pushing him away, but Desmond had dealt with bigger assholes in the past. Desmond placed both of his palms onto Shaun’s desk and leaned forward, face coming closer to the screen of Shaun’s computer.
“Why can’t you just get off your high-horse for once and let someone help Shaun? Must you always be a self righteous prick?” Desmond knows he’s being a bit snappy at the moment, but he’s losing sleep at the moment, and the fact that he can’t sleep at all is getting to him. Sure, Shaun loses sleep some times, but never as much as Desmond does. He bets that Shaun’s never just lain in bed, looking up at his ceiling wishing that Templar soldiers would just stop pacing back and forth at the foot of his bed. Or that horses would stop jumping across his bed. Desmond can feel his temple starting to throb and he wants nothing more than to lie down, but it just isn’t possible at the moment. Not when he feels the memories of Ezio and Altair tugging hard.
“‘Must you always be a self righteous prick?’” Shaun repeats out loud, his eyes wandering from the screen back to Desmond, who’s leaning in closer than Shaun would appreciate. If the damn Bleeding Effect didn’t work physically, Shaun would sock Desmond right here and now but somehow, Desmond is just as strong as Ezio or Altair. It’s frustrating. Desmond could beat Shaun to a bloody pulp if he wanted. Although, he wouldn’t go down as easily as those stupid guards; he’d at least put up something slightly resembling a fight.
“Yes, Desmond. Because then sometimes twats like you figure out that no, I don’t want to waste my time with chit-chat and being a prick usually drives people off. You, trying to help me, is wasting time. Time is something we don’t have a lot of, you understand? Everyday that Lucy decides you need a break, it’s wasting time that we can’t get back.” Shaun can feel himself scowling and he sits up straight, turning his stool so that he’s facing Desmond. He narrows his eyes.
“Now, if you would kindly get away from my computer and let me finish this data entry, I’d be plenty grateful.”
… I’m curious. Do tell.
