Desmond's History

[Stefan [GM]]

(Subject to better spell check)

Seattle, 2050
Somewhere in the Puyallup Barrens

The rain mixed with the thick coat of ashes, blown in from the Mt. Rainier, as a strong wind came in from the south. The air was thick, and breathing became a struggle.
Amongst debris and trash, a little boy, maybe seven years of age, cowered in an alleyway, covered with newspapers and heavy mud. In his arms he cradled an infant, not older than a year, trying to protect it from the harsh weather. He wanted to protect this little girl from danger, from the world.
He didn't know their parents. One day, the orphanage was abandoned, leaving him and his sister to themselves. All, that was left from his past, was a single feather of a falcon. And although he didn't know the meaning of it, he kept it for the years to come.
Amidst the darkness of the night, the stench of decay and ashes, and the madness of the Barrens, nobody cared, no one offered help. And hope, the boy began to realize, hope is but a word; without meaning, without purpose.

I wished this story would be one of growth, of faith. A tale of strength and survival, as a boy becomes a man on the path of the adept. A great spiritual journey, that warms the hearts of the audience, gives hope to the hopeless. But this story is far from an happy ending.

The boy hasn't slept for nights, protecting his baby-sister, until a young business man found them; starved and on the brink of death. He offered a home, a family and safety. And the boy, ready to accept anything, believed him.
"What's your name?" The man asked with a fake smile.
The boy didn't take his eyes of the baby in his arms and answered, "Desmond."

Bellevue, 2050

The apartment wasn't too bad. But I guess anything is better than the streets of Puyallup. The boy, however, didn't get to enjoy much of that.
The man, he said his name was Johnson, took care of the boy and his sister for a few days. Though, the care was anything but good. Desmond and the baby were living in a closet, with a blanked as bed and a dish of water to drink out of. There were no lights, other than what came through underneath the door. Other than the shower a couple of days ago, when they first arrived, both children have not been out of the closet at all.
Through the door, the boy could overhear a phone call.
"Yes. Two, a boy and a girl," Johnson said and waited. "The boy is not older than 10, probably younger. Survived on the streets for a while, taking care of the girl. He seems very strong, not to shabby for labor, anyways. The girl," he paused, waiting for the other end to finish their interruption. "As I was going to say, the girl is an infant. Maybe a year. I'm sure someone will pay for her, though." The other end was talking for a while, and Desmond could hear heavy footsteps going back and forth.
Later, Desmond should find out that him and his sister were taking in by a slave dealer.

The next few days were quiet. Once a day, the door opened and Johnson dropped off some fresh water, some soy beans and a handful of fresh dippers, together with a plastic bag for the used ones. Though, nobody ever picked up the full bags and the smell got worse and worse every day.
One night, Desmond was torn out of his sleep by a loud bang on the door. He took his sister into his arms and cowered in the corner, as he could see blood pooling underneath the door. Scarred to death, he tried to push himself tighter into the corner and knocked over the dish of water by accident. His hear missed a beat as the noise of the dish hitting the wall gave away his presence.
The next seconds were filled with silence. Desmond's heart was pounding strongly and the moment did not seem to pass. Then the door opened and it took him a few moments to adjust his eyes to the sudden burst of light.
Before him, a figure in a white overcoat with a hood and a short sword in her hand was looking into the room, ready to attack. Behind the figure, Johnson was lying dead, his throat cut and still pumping blood unto the floor. Desmond couldn't see the face of the stranger, but he knew he was examined carefully. His grip around his sister tightened, as the stranger turned around to leave the children. Though, the stranger hesitated, then turned around again, hitting the light switch outside of the closet to turn on the light inside.
The room was filled with filth, so was the smell in the air. The stranger came up to the children, kneeling down and taking of her hood.
Her eyes were the eyes of angels. An honest concern covered the face of this young woman, as she reached out to Desmond, holding her hand for him to grab.
"You are safe now, boy," she whispered.
Desmond was frightened. He didn't know that this woman should be his new mother. And, not knowing that she was an assassin, send to kill the slave dealer, or that she will train him to follow in her footsteps one day, as assassin and adept, Desmond took her hand.

Tacoma, 2057
Inside the garage of a small cookie-cutter house

Victoria White. Married to Raymond White, a local business owner and fixer in the shadows, Victoria was an exceptional athlete. Years of intense training, and following the ways of the adapts made her a successful runner in the shadows. Though, she didn't take just any job. Both Victoria and Raymond followed a personal code, a creed for those, that kill even the most unreachable targets. They were assassins, sworn to kill one and maybe safe hundreds doing it.
They adopted the boy and his sister, and while Raymond was busy taking care of his files and partners, with the girl on his lap, who was more than interested in his doings, Victoria spent yet another afternoon with Desmond.
"Keep your balance, Des. If you fall one more time, there won't be any dinner for you!"
The garage was modified into a small gym. Desmond was balancing on one foot, three feet over the concrete. His mother wanted him to move along the beam, nearly eight feet long, but pausing every step for a ten seconds. He was only allowed to stand on one foot for the pause, and his mother threw small balls at him, to distract him and throw him off balance.
"Mom," the boy complained, "this would be easier if you wouldn't throw stuff at me the whole time!"
She smiled.
"You have to be able to move without a noise, keep your body and mind focused on the path ahead of you and adapt to any surprise, that might occur."
The next ball knocked him off the beam, teaching him yet another valuable lesson about the strength of concrete and the pain of falling.
What Desmond didn't know yet, was that his mother already sensed a greater power within his aura. Much like herself, Desmond was destined to follow the path of the adept, bringing mind and body into harmony. It wasn't her goal to train him as assassin, like herself, although the training methods and self-discipline for athletes and assassins were pretty close to each other.
The next years, the training became more intense. While his sister started to become Raymond's personal assistant (whether Raymond wanted or not), Desmond started to learn to control his powers as an adapt, advancing in the arts of stealth and guile.
Maybe his mother never wanted him to become an assassin, but the following years left him with little choice.

Bellevue, 2060
The 13th floor of a high quality apartment complex

Physical training and mental toughness wasn't all, Desmond learned over the years.
During his teenage years, Desmond and his sister were send to a dear friend of the family, while their parents are busy with a job. Maybe Leonard Vince wasn't the best influence on the children, though he was the most trustworthy.
He made a living as digital artist, and like many artists, he was more in debt than he enjoyed success.
Desmond's sister was eager to learn about programing, matrix and pretty much everything, computers had to offer, from Leonard, and uncle Leo was very impressed with her determination and talent in the digital world.
"You know, Claudia, mom would freak out if she'd knew, you just hacked into the stuffer shack to deliver free pizza, right?" Desmond asked, secretly impressed by her natural talented to wield Leo's cyberdeck as a digital weapon. She was eleven years old, and already a wiz-kid in the matrix. This would set a path for the young girl, that would define her role as one of the best hackers, Desmond ever met.
"Relax, Des," she set with a smile, the trodes still on her head.
For the first time, Desmond felt like everything was going great. His new family was caring and loving, he finally had a path to follow and his baby-sister was growing up to be very talented, in a happy environment and with promise of a secure future.
Maybe, the young Desmond thought to himself, maybe there was hope.

Tacoma, 2063

One night, Victoria didn't return.
She was send out to kill a gang boss in the Redmond Barrens. He was threatening to blow up a homeless shelter, if the bums wouldn't pay up. Due to its location, Lone Star didn't care about the shelter, so the responsible people turned to the shadows and hired Raymond and Victoria to take care of it.
Raymond took care of the business side due to a wound in his leg, that never really healed, leaving him crippled and useless for this kind of job. Through the matrix, he was monitoring his wife's vital signs.
The night she didn't return, he lost contact with Victoria, and her bio-monitor returned a static signal.

His sister, tapped into the signals as well, already told Desmond, before their father could react. Raymond tried to stop his boy, tried convincing him that this would be suicide and he wasn't trained for this kind of situation. But the boy didn't care. She saved him and his sister, he had no choice but to now safe her.
He took the chameleon suit of his dad, armed himself with a combat knife and a light pistol, and stormed out the door. His dad, barely able to move due to the pain, now elevated through the stress of losing first his wife, and now potently his son, he couldn't stop Desmond from this insanity.

Hours later, Desmond was found in the backyard of the house. His dead mother in his arms, he was barely alive himself. Covered in bruises and cuts, bullet holes in non-vital areas and with a few broken bones, Desmond collapsed just before he could reach the door.
Somehow, Desmond felt like he was a little boy again, trying to protect what was dear to him from the world.

Bellevue, 2068

The virtual Room was filled with digital foes. Lines of light were drawn, where the bullets of the enemies were flying and one of the digital opponents attacked Desmond with a knife. Armed with one of his hidden blades on his right wrist, and a light pistol in his left hand, he tried to defend himself with the blade, while shooting with the pistol at the targets. As he got shot several times, he cried out loud and the AR environment disappeared.
He took off the small headband with build-in trodes and threw them to floor.
"Leo, this is bullshit! Why the hell do I have to wear this damn suit?" Desmond complained.
Leonard dressed Desmond into a full feedback suit, to simulate every hit, every bit of sensory information from the AR simulation as realistic as possible onto Desmond's body. Every cut hurt, every bullet felt like it was tearing through his flesh, though in the real world no damage was done.
"If you want to learn about Ares' newest tricks, you'll need real time practice right from the start, chummer. This is no different from your sneaking and combat training - nobody cuts you slack their either," Leonard explained. After all, it was Desmond's request to Leonard to acquire tutor soft for Ares's newest martial arts development: Firefight.
Leonard modified the digital tutor to a realistic fighting simulation and Desmond has to deal with almost-real-world conditions or leave it.
"Okay, Des. Just follow the instructions. Block the attacker in front of you and use his force to get behind him. According to the statistics, this will allow you to use him as meat shield against the attackers from over there," he said in a calm way and pointed into one corner of the room. "If you get this right, you'll be able to shoot anybody around you, without being too distracted by the guy keeping you in melee. It's not too hard, just follow the tutor agent. Programs never lie, they do what they know best to do, so go with it, and don't be a cry-baby."
Desmond sighed. Very well, he thought and put the trodes back on.
"One more time, Leo. Just let me know when-", and before he could finish the sentence, the first attacker shot him already.
Leonard started to laugh out loud, as he booted the simulation before Desmond could react.

Tacoma, 2071

Desmond never stopped his training. He dealt with the death of his mother through intense discipline, iron focus and concentration. This is, what his mother would have wanted. While his sister grew into a respectable hacker and influential genius, Desmond reached a level of self-discipline that might have even outgrown his mother's abilities.
Now he worked as assassin. While his dad and his sister maintained the business side, Desmond became a weapon of fate. Always in memory of his mother, he strives to make her proud.

Now, when I look at the feather and think of what man I am today, who this little boy grew into, it could have been a lot worse.
Then the contract came in, that changed everything again. The target was Niccolo Giovanni.

Little did I know, this hit would be the worst turn yet.

[Stefan [GM]]

Leap of Faith

Redmond, 2063
On the rooftop of an abandoned building

Desmond looked over the edge of the roof, down onto the gas station one block away, the gangers called their home. Somewhere in this dump was his mother; dead for all he knew. Five stories above the street, Desmond was plotting his attack, as a mechanical clicking noise interrupted his thought. He turned around, his hands slowly going up, and looked into the eye of a gun barrel. The Ork holding the pistol, a member of the very gang his mother went after, grunted and then spit before Desmond's feet. 
"Lookin' fo' sum'in, chum?" The Ork mumbled through his rotten and broken tusks. 
Desmond took a step backwards and noticed, that he was standing on the very edge of the roof, five stories above a certain death, and the Ork ganger was slowly moving towards him.
"I said, what'e fuck d'ya want?" The Ork grunted again, tightening his grip around the pistol.
With the Ork cutting off any escape, and the end of the roof right behind him, there was no way out for Desmond. 

Redmond, 2059
Four stories above the street

Victoria took Desmond by his hand and pulled him to the edge of the roof. Looking down, Desmond saw a back ally, garbage and squatters. The house seemed abandoned. 
As he stepped back, his mother turned to him, standing with her back right to edge of the building, and said, "Often, you will be in a situation that allows no time to weigh the odds. Sometimes, Desmond, you have to take a risk, trust your instinct."
Desmond didn't understand. He put his head to the side and was about to ask, what his mother was talking about, as she gave him a warm smile and took one step backwards. Desmond cried out, started running towards the edge, as his mother has just jumped off the roof. Frightened, with tears in his eyes and the sound of his fast beating heart in his ears, he looked over the edge, expecting to see the worst. He took a deep breath before he opened his eyes and looked down, just to find the ally untouched. No sign of his mother, no sign of a fallen and crushed body in between the garbage. Desmond's mother was gone, and he was left alone somewhere in the nether of Redmond, on top of an abandoned building. 
As he lost all hope, a hand touched his shoulder, and instantly he could feel the warming presence of his mother behind him.
"Sometimes," she said with a soothing voice, "sometimes you'll have to take a leap of faith."

Redmond, 2063
On the rooftop of an abandoned building

The Ork was close enough that Desmond could smell the stench of his body, that hadn't see fresh water for probably over a month. Desmond smiled.
"What'e fuck you smilin', drek norm?!" The Ork yelled out. "You better talk, or else-"
Desmond interrupted the Ork, as he stepped backwards over the edge of the roof. Confused about the unusual response of the stranger, the Ork didn't hear the noise of breaking glass. He ran after Desmond, just to find an empty street, when he looked over the edge. Had the Ork been looking close enough, he would have seen shards of glass still falling down to the street, as Desmond grabbed the ledge of the fourth story window, using the force of his fall to lever himself through the window of the third story.
The Ork waited for a few moments, but he couldn't see any sign of life on the street. Still confused and just a little disappointed that he didn't get to kill the stranger, or at least beat him up a little, the Ork was about to turn around.
A sudden pain covered his throat, as a knife cut straight through it. With his hands on his blood pumping throat, the Ork turned around as he fell on his knees. With a knife in his hands, still drenched in blood, Desmond stood tall and looked down on the dying Ork.
"Or else, what?" Desmond asked.