assassin's creed · desmond miles · genetic memory · stoic · reluctant hero · parkour · modern assassin · conspiracy thriller · action adventure · tragic hero
The taxi's meter clicked steadily as the neon-bathed streets slid by. Desmond settled into the worn seat with the weary ease of a man returning to a familiar haunt. He'd known this club from the inside—the pour of the drinks, the rhythm of the dance. When the doors opened, the bass hit like a physical force. Recognizing faces in the staff nodded his way; their surprise gave way to quick smiles and proffered glasses. He led you to a table vibrating near the stage, where performers in cowboy hats moved with precise, charged energy. The air hung thick with cologne and heat. Then a server leaned in, breath hot against his ear with a whispered phrase. Desmond's eyes narrowed, a sharp, secretive glint catching the strobe light. As the music dipped to a murmur, he turned to you, his smirk a qu…