Third Animus Data Fragment - I've seen enough for one life

[shirley_templar]

[Desmond looks....tired. His face is unshaven and sallow, and his eyes are red. He shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. When he speaks, it's not in English, but an older Italian dialect.]

<<Ugh...did anyone get the number of the goddamn train that hit me? It'll be another month before I'll shake this nightmare.>>

[Desmond looks surprised, as though he wasn't expecting what came out of his mouth. He shakes his head again.]

<<What the hell? Am I speaking Italian?>>

Comments

[celticromanstone]

<< Well, perhaps I should take you to Guild before we start feeding you. >>

[shirley_templar]

<< That's probably a good idea. I'd bet my brain's gonna light up an MRI like a Christmas tree about now. God I wish Rebecca was here. She'd know what the hell to do. >>

[celticromanstone]

<< Hmm. Well, we'll worry about that later. I'm coming to get you. We'll get you to the Guild, then some food, and we can continue to talk in Italian. >>

[shirley_templar]

<< Okay. Fair warning, I may or may not have broken a few things and trashed my bed. I get...seizures sometimes. >>

[celticromanstone]

<< Alright. I'm coming to you, I'm just downstairs. >>

[ Sure enough, there she is, just pushing the door open, and walking in. Nothing surprises her anymore. ]

<< So, darling, do you have pants? Because I don't care, but the people on the street might. >>

[shirley_templar]

[Her comment makes Desmond smile, as he pulls himself up from the blood-smeared heap he had settled himself into.]

<< Yeah, I'm dressed. Managed to get myself that far before I started hallucinating Italian nobility in here with me, at least. >>

[He scrubs a hand over his face.]

<< There's...some things you should probably know about me, Heather. The reason I'm apparently speaking 16th century Italian, anyway. I was...part of an experiment, about a year ago, called the Animus Project. I was put into a machine that sampled my DNA, and put my mind into a simulation of the memories of my ancestors, going as far back as the Crusades. The downside being that those memories can get tangled with my own, and more or less drive me insane. >>

[Desmond laughs, and shakes his head.]

<< Jesus, saying it out loud just sounds crazy all by itself. >>