Jul 21, 2019 7:27 PM
Storms and Wisterias in Assassin's Creed
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Seth is bored. He's finished all his jobs, the shop is clean as a whistle, all the shelves that need to be restocked are stocked, he's replied to all the emails, the tickets are all updated and he hasn't had a customer for nearly an hour. Which isn't suprising at 1am on a Wednesday.

So he leans against the counter and starts sketching. He hasn't done it for a while, months probably, but not much time passes before he is completely in the zone. He loves this.

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Wildling waits until Killjoy signals the all clear. They can't risk any one getting closer, and Wildling is not about to volunteer as a sacrifice. Killjoy flashes the light twice, and Wildling slips around the corner onto the street, keeping her face tucked into her scarf and her hair hidden in her hood. 

Intel said it was this liquor store. Exile had been certain. Well, she better fucking be sure, or the scruffy man behind the counter is about to get the shock of his life.

A bell dings above the door as Wildling enters, and she can't help the wince. After a quick check around the shelves for other customers, thankfully none, she heads straight to the counter. 

"Seth Nelson?"

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Seth looks up from his sketchbook at the sound of the bell. And puts on his customer service smile.

"That's me!" He looks down at his name badge, which reads 'Seth', confused that she knows his last name. But he presses on. "Do you need help finding something?"

He doesn't recognize her, she isn't a regular.

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"You need to come with me. Right now."

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"Uh, no I don't? I'm in the middle of a shift."

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"And I'm in the middle of trying to save your life, but let's not try to outdo each other and just get going, yes? Unless you like being captured, tortured and generally mistreated."

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Oh great, a crazy person. Just what he wants to deal with when he's by himself at 1am.

"Look, ma'am, I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not interested. Unless you want something from the store, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

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"God, you're lucky you're pretty." A quick glance around proves that the hair on the back of her neck standing up is just paranoia. "This isn't a game, little Seth. There are armed people minutes away that would've already taken you if we hadn't gotten here first. You have minutes, possibly seconds, before they catch up. So, back up your...colouring book, and let's go."

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"Yeeeah. That's not going to happen. Please leave or I'm gonna call the cops."

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"Ooooooh no. The cops. How scary." She checks behind her again, and sees Killjoy's frantically flashing light. "Fuck. Time's up pretty boy, let's go," she says. She holds out her hand, and her sleeve rides up just enough to expose the blade tucked into it. "I'm not gonna hurt you. But they? They are. And they're gonna make it seem like it's for your own good. If we don't leave now, you're gonna end up in a test tube."

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Seth backs up when he see's the knife. "Look, you're obviously on something. Please just leave and find some place to ride it out. I'm not going anywhere with you."

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Shepard busts inside of the shop, despite being told to wait. But then again, they did send Wildling in to convince Seth to go with them. 

Better decisions have been made. 

"Wild, we gotta go. Like right now. They've got a precinct's worth with them. We don't go now, we're in for a fucking bloodbath."

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"I'm working on it, Shep," Wildling says.

She turns back to Seth. "Lucky for you, your cops are here. Unfortunately, they're about to arrest you and turn you over to Abstergo. So, if you fancy being a lab rat, you're in luck."

"Please. Come with us."

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Aaand theres another one, fuck. Seth starts inching towards the panic button under the counter. "Abstergo? The drug company?"

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"Drug company. Yep. That's all they are. That's why I'm terrified of them and am currently wielding a knife." Wildling hears Shepard leave, and knows that in just a few seconds Templars will burst in here, and then all chances of finding any Pieces of Eden are gone. She takes a step closer, pulling off her hood and tugging her scarf away from her face. Now he can see her. "I know this is strange. And confusing. And I don't blame you for thinking I'm on something. But I am telling you the honest and complete truth, Seth Nelson, born May 10th, 1998, currently living in apartment 19c on 12th Avenue."

She puts her hands on the counter, schooling her expression into something pleading. "And if I know all that, they do too. Please. Let us keep you safe."

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"...who are you?"

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"My name's Wildling. Let me get you out of here."

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"You could be a crazy stalker trying to lure me somewhere and kill me."

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"Honey, I could've killed you a thousand times over. You're alone, in a quiet liquor store at 1am."

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"There are cameras."

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"You mean the ones that stopped recording in 2005?"

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How the fuck does she know that.

"How the fuck do you know that."

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"I'm like oxygen. I'm everywhere. Also, very cute that your response to 'I could've killed you 300 times by now' is 'but the cameras!"

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"Please leave."

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"Come with me."

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"You have given no proof to your claims and I don't know you. I'm not going anywhere."

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