AN: With the two stories that I have been working on, it's kinda stupid for me to make this story, but I can't help it. I've been tossing around the idea of a Arrow/Assassin's Creed crossover for awhile, and I'll fufill that promise for however long I can. And who else to assist are hero, than Laurel Lance. But for now, enjoy!
May 18, 2013
For the third time today, Laurel Lance couldn't stop the steady flow of tears from sliding down her cheeks, as she stared at the photo from what felt like a lifetime ago. A photo of Tommy, Oliver, and herself when they were 13. The weather seemed to reflect the mood of today, as it was pouring rain in Starling City. All she could do now was damn herself for being so stupid.
Well, that, and drink herself into a early grave.
She royally screwed up, and because of it, not only did she lose CNRI, but Tommy, her ex-boyfriend, or current boyfriend, at this point she forgot. She cheated on him with Oliver days before his death, and yet he still gave up his life to save her. When she went back inside CNRI as it was falling apart, she got a glimpse of that vigilante bastard leaving. He didn't even bother saving him, he fled, much like everyone that Laurel relied on the most.
'Stop Laurel, you gotta compose yourself' she whispered to herself, as she wiped her eyes from the tears as she came back to. She was currently sitting in the corner booth in the bar, the wooden seat causing pain in her backside. She came to the bar in whatever she could find in her drawer, a pair of dark blue jeans, a T-shirt from her trip to Germany, her black hoodie, a pair of red sneakers and just tried to forget the fact that she essentially lost her life .
"Come to drown your sorrows as well, huh?" Laurel jumped at the sudden voice that interrupted her thoughts, as she gripped the table in front of her hard before, relaxing and letting go. "Sorry, didn't mean to spook you, just an inquiry." She looked behind her to see some guy currently taking a swig of whiskey before placing it down on the table, and turning to face her. Laurel got to analyze him there, soft emerald eyes, olive skin, and messy black hair, with a few strands reaching his eyebrows, a scar on the left side of his lip, a small stubble, and looked roughly the same age as her. The man offered a smile, but Laurel turned away before responding.
"Yeah, seems like a lot of people are now."
"Yup, but it doesn't take a village idiot to figure why." He let out a dark chuckle, before drinking again. He let out a sigh as he gestured to all the men and women affected by Malcom's "Undertaking" trying to drink it all away. "I can't believe that guy did this shit."
"Well, he always was an asshole." She added, before sipping her glass of vodka.
"Oh? You've seen him act like that first hand?" then man behind her asked with a hint of curiosity. She was saying too much already.
"I knew him through his… family, that's all I'm going to say." She leaned her head back on the booth and stared at the ceiling for a minute before he responded.
"You're not high right now are?" she straightened out and turned to him with a raised eyebrow, "Because it looked like you were overdosing and I wasn't gonna be seen at the crime scene." Laurel gave a small smile and scoffed.
"Charming, really. The ladies really love you." She dryly replied before taking a sip of her drink.
"Clearly, I got mad girls waiting for me," he laughed at he gestured at the empty booth, and stuck his hand out.
"Marcus Garcia, Private Investigator."
"Laurel Lance, lawyer, well, formerly of CNRI," She took his hand and shook generously, "…it would be rude if I didn't invite you to booth, so… you wanna join me?"
"Sure, two forces of the law join." He got up from his booth and sat in front of Laurel, sighing, "Man, Joseph really needs to invest in some seat cushions, these wooden benches hurt my ass." He groaned as he rubbed his lower back, and leaned back. Laurel took this chance to assess Marcus's clothes.
The man was currently wearing a black leather jacket, with a dark grey beaked hoodie sewn inside of it, a pair of gold rimmed aviators resting on the collar of his shirt, a black T-shirt with a logo of a green star with a black joystick inside the star and the words "Achievement Hunter" under the logo. Marcus was wearing a pair of straight fit blue jeans with small tears at the knee caps of his right leg, and black converse shoes. Although, the rings on his left hand seemed… odd. It had weird letters carved into the sides, and judging by the dark ink under the ring, it was covering a tattoo, or a branding she couldn't tell.
"So," he interrupted her analysis, "how is it that a former 20-something lawyer ends up in a bar drinking alone? I wonder…" he jokingly stroked his chin with his index finger and thumb and looked at the ceiling in deep thought.
"I appreciate the fact that you're trying to make me feel better… Marcus," she awkwardly chuckled before she frowned, "but I don't think it'll work. I-uh lost someone during the earthquake, and I'm not in a joking mood man."
"I think all of us lost someone or something in that earthquake. I lost more than a couple of friends in The Glades. It's all about perspective, señora. Those people that we lost, they don't have to deal with anymore crazy shit happening here in this city. I mean first, some crazy guy in green leather with a bow starts going Guy Fawkes on the elitist, and now the wannabe Merlyn and him duke it out in an effort to either save or destroy The Glades. Maybe I should've stayed in New York." He ranted before finishing the whiskey bottle and setting it aside.
"You aren't from Starling City?"
"Nope, I just moved here in February. With all the crime and misery going on here, I figured I'd set up shop here to help all the people that have been screwed over find justice."
"How? You're just a PI?"
"Exactly. I can get down and dirty In the crime scenes to find the rat bastards."
"And if you get into some bad business with criminals, what then?" she exclaimed a little too worrying.
"Don't worry," he smiled and cracked his knuckles, "I may try to diffuse a situation, but I can kick some ass. My aun- caretakers didn't raise a bitch." The both of them giggled, and when they stopped, Laurel's phone ringtone, "Diamonds" by Rihanna cut between them. Laurel fished the phone out of her pocket to check who was calling her.
'Daddy'
Crap, she been so busy in the bar, that she ignored her phone. Before she could answer though, the call ended, and her lock screen came up.
'Ollie'
'4 missed calls'
'Thea'
'7 missed calls'
'Daddy'
'13 missed calls'
"God damn it.." she muttered to herself and placed her hand on her forehead. She needed to answer them but she didn't want to blow off her newest friend. Luckily, he got the notion and stood up, pulling his backpack from the floor on his shoulders.
"Well, as much as I would love to continue our conversation, It seems that you have matters to attend to. Besides, it's 1:35 in the morning and I need to get home. Hopefully, I'll see you around." He gave a warm smile before giving the two finger salute and exiting the bar.
'Good job Marc, you have officially made yourself a drinking buddy.' He smiled as he walked down sidewalk on his way home. He didn't mind walking home from the bar, while the bar was about a 30-40 minute walk to his apartment in the middle of the city, he certainly wished that the bus station was open, but was undergoing repairs following the earthquake.
CRACK
Marcus visibly tensed up, as that bottle smashing was too close for comfort. Marcus was being followed, but he couldn't tell if it was a gangbanger or something much more… sinister. He quickly rolled up his sleeve to give room for his hidden blade to activate, should the situation arise. Might as well try to lose them.
Marcus turned into an alley way after five minutes of trying to shake the followers, and proceeded to kick off the wall before climbing the scaffolding to try to make a game plan before these goons caught him.
'Okay, try to find someplace to lure these guys to deal with them,' He scanned the rooftops before seeing a shut-down factory belonging to Merlyn Global in close proximity, 'Score!' He exclaimed in his head as he hopped from roof to roof before using his rope launcher to rappel to the factory and crash through the windows and land on the scaffolding on top.
He brought his hood over his head, pulled up his black bandana to cover his lower half of his face and pull down his shades.
Soon enough, the 6 pursers made their way into the factory, four males, two females. Judging by their uniform and arsenal, they weren't common criminals, they were mercs.
"Are you sure he came in here, Jacob? 'Cause if he didn't I'm gonna kick the shit out of you!" The leader of the group questioned, aiming his M4A1 through the factory.
"I'm sure of it boss! He used his hidden blade to zipline into here, I swear!" the second merc nervously responded, shakily aiming at anything that moved.
How'd they know about the hidden blades? Oh no…
Marcus squinted as he tried to get a better look at the mercs when he caught sight of it, a small blood red cross patch on the shoulders of their uniforms.
Templar Agents.
Damn it, he really didn't want to kill today. Even worse, he didn't want reveal his vigilante persona just yet.
"Who the fuck are you?" a feminine voice came inbetween both the group and the Assassin, her thin frame stepping out from the shadows.
She wore her hair stood up in all its black glory. She had her hands in her coat pockets and mulled her feet in the factory floor, getting dirty water on her black jeans and shoes. The girl stood awkwardly at 5'7", she couldn't be older than 20.
"The real question," the leader of the agents stepped forward, "is why are you in here?" his intimidating voice muffled by his face mask, which had the distinct triangle of Abstergo Industries logo on his mask. The man towered over the petite girl.
"I-uh-uh dumpster dive here. Who are you hunting down?" she gestured to his assault rifle, and backed up.
"Normally, our target, but since you probably heard all of this.." he trailed off, before popping off a shot into her thigh and the girl screamed in pain. "She needs to go boys, then we continue the hunt."
All the men raised their M4A1's prepared to execute her. Marcus had to do something quick! He rifled through his backpack, before he pulled out a rope dart. He jumped on one of the bars supporting the roof before aiming at one of the mercs and threw the rope dart, and in successfully imbedded itself in his neck.
"Aghhhh!" the agent cried before he was pulled up to the bar before he stopped in place, and his limp body swung carelessly as Marcus landed in a crouch and implanted the other end of the dart into the floor.
"It's him! Capture him!" the leader screamed and aimed his gun at the assassins legs and opened fire. Marcus performed flips upon flips, avoiding the gunfire before side flipping into cover. He waited a couple of seconds before he heard the footsteps of an agent approach the metal table. Marcus used this chance to smack the rifle down before extending his hidden blade and stabbing his throat, stealing his rifle and getting back into cover. The agents continued firing on the table, before their guns eventually clicked empty.
Marcus used this chance to pop out of cover and open fire, aiming down the sights and scoring headshots on another male and a female agent before it went empty. In a desperate attempt to prevent them from shooting, he threw the rifle butt first into the second agent, Jacob's nose and vaulted over the cover to rush the agents. The agents seeing that it was easier to switch to their batons than reload, readied their weapons and the leader swung his baton at Marcus's head. Marcus stopped before the baton could hit him and pivoted both his hidden blades and got into combat stance. The two agents circled him like predators, until the woman agent swung her baton downwards in an attempt to smash his skull. Marcus brought his left blade up and spun it away before kicking her knee and she kneeled, before swinging his foot against her skull, knocking her down. Only one standing.
"I like you buddy boy," the leader's southern accent giving way, "but you messed up real bad, puttin' up a fight and all, because now ere gonna hurt ya, really, REALLY bad."
"I'd like to see you try asshole." Marcus spat before he swiped his blade at the leader's chest. The leader smacked his arm away before smashing his baton on Marcus's waist, staggering him for a moment, barely avoiding the strike meant to break his jaw. Marcus performed several straight stabs, his opponent blocking every one of his strikes before retaliating with a flurry of swipes. Marcus leg swept the leader, knocking him on his backside, before he tried to execute his enemy, the leader grabbing his hands, stopping him in his tracks. Marcus tried to break free, before he heard heavy foot steps behind him.
Jacob.
Marcus headbutted the leader as he freed his grip, and rolled away as Jacob smashed his baton into his superior's throat, crushing his windpipe. Jacob, shocked by the fact that he killed his boss, dropped the baton and backed up before spinning around to get a right hook from the assassin, a left hook, and finally, his opponent jumped and spun kicked him, knocking him back into the table. He didn't have time to recover from the strike as he felt the pain of the blade enter his throat, and stared at his killer, before he felt the rest of his throat slice open, bleeding out.
The fight was over. Marcus won, and he could get the hell out of here, until her heard the groan of the female agent, blood pooling from the right side of her head. Marcus walked up to her and placed his hand under her chin, prepared to activate the blade, when the victim from earlier groaned.
"Don't… hurt her." She pleaded, balancing herself on the railing, breathing heavily. Marcus, with no other choice, sheathed his blade and kicked the agent on the side of the head again, knocking her out cold. The assassin quickly made way to the girl, and assessed the damage.
"I'm sorry you had to see that. Those guys wanted to do some serious damage." He apologized and explained, checking out the wound thoroughly.
"Yeah, no shit" she groaned as she tried to null the pain while her savior helped her out.
"Luckily for you, bullet went out clean, but I'd still get medical attention," He assured her, "C'mon, we need to get you outside." He assisted her outside the factory.
"Why were those guys after you?" the girl breathed out, gripping his arm, as he avoided looking at her.
"None of your concern. Trust me, you're better off not knowing." He replied as he took his bag off, pulling out a first aid kit to surture her wounds. After getting the bullet out, he doused her wound in hydrogen peroxide, and wrapped her leg in a bandage. "It'll hold for now, but you'll need to call 911." He informed her. After that, he patted her shoulder and walked two feet to the abandoned apartment complex. Prepared to free run, he backed up, when the mystery woman called out.
"Who are you?"
Marcus turned back to the girl and gave an answer.
"Eagle Eye," he ran up the wall and climbed up the windows, and reached the top.
"And you?" The girl smiled painfully.
"Sin."
A/N: And like that, this chapter is finished! I hope you enjoyed this prologue and leave a favorite and follow, as I will try to have chapter 2 up soon, starting in the episode "City of Heroes". But for now here's the dossier.
Name: Marcus Antonio Garcia
DOB: 10/15/1984
Birthplace: Edinburg, Texas
Known places of residence: Starling City, California(presumably), Queens, New York
Ethnicity: Mexican-American
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 210 lbs
Eye Color: Emerald
Hair Color: Black
Vigilante attire: Black leather jacket with a dark grey beaked hoodie sewn into it, Black Bandana with a scarlet red assassin logo in the middle, black fingerless gloves, dark blue jeans ripped on the right, Black converse.
Gear: A short katana, the pommel wrapped in black and red grip. Dual Hidden Blades which contain rope launchers and pivot blades. ACR with Holo sight, silencer, and grenade launcher. A silenced M1911. Rope darts. Throwing knifes. Smoke bombs. Posion darts.
Identifiable marks: Assassin logo on his ring finger, a scar on the left side of his lip, multiple stab scars on chest, 3 bullet wounds on his chest.
Lineage: Connor Kenway, Colonial Brotherhood(1756-?)
Edward Jimenez, Mexican Brotherhood(1792-1866)
Andrew Garcia, American Brotherhood(1924-2000)