Shadows: Whisper | Assassin's Creed

[Mousia]

(What is CJ, short for, exactly? Because that's definitely not a Greek name...)

[TwilightMoonDragon]

[i guess that it means Cyrus Jr? I think it's a way to distinguish between him and his father.]

 

The woman smiled and pressed closer to Cyrus. "I love you too." She murmured. And then, she closed her eyes. And died.

 

[sorry, pissed off. My dad ruined my bro's comp.]

[Dusset]

((Yeah. It's Cyrus Junior. I did that to help us, not for the story.))

 

Cyrus closed his eyes when she closed his, knowing she was gone. He knew Sophia was tearing up. "Sophia. Take the boys somewhere. I will be with you shortly." He said. His daughter did so, and she said nothing. He held Circe's hand tighter a moment and kissed her cheek. He let a tear escape his eye but it turned out to be the leader of many. He didn't sob, tears just came in silence. He would make his wife proud. His children would grow up with the best father they'd ever heard of. Better than any father to walk the Earth.

[TwilightMoonDragon]

[Okay, someone else's turn. ^^]

[Dusset]

((Who's left besides Cyrus and the kids?))

[RainDash]

[Aella, but I'm not writing her death scene because she's just gonna die of natural causes.]

[TwilightMoonDragon]

[Well, for me, I have two more charries. But I have to wait for Moose...]

[Mousia]

(I'll do Hellie and Zero now.)

 

Both siblings were getting older. Helena had a few children, but they rarely saw her. When they did meet, it was usually a stiff affair. Asking how her outing went, stories about her scars, the like. But she and her children loved each other. They had an admiration for her mother, a strong woman who held herself up at the top of the assassin chain well into her years. Despite some of her most trusted assassins falling, she and her brother remained, leading with equal parts flame and ice.

Over time, they siblings had grown close. They had always depended on each other. And with their ages forever ascending, they had to strengthen their regime for their children, at least to give them something. Both felt guilty for seeming to be never around. The least they could do was to build up a legacy of some sort. And hopefully they'd be grateful, the lot of them.

Zero had grown into a man proper. He had never strayed from Kaethe romantically and had become colder and sneakier through the years, protecting her from the dangers that haunted all the assassins; she never really got substantially better at hand-to-hand. All the assassins below him who were younger of that had not known him in his earlier years thought of him as a cold, stoic man. He had a steel heart and a ruthless hand, not afraid of anything. And though one could speak to him and carry out a conversation and he seemed friendly enough, he was never really easy to attach to. He didn't like friends. And, gods forbid, someone challenged him, he would let them know within a few minutes that he would not go easy on someone who claimed to be his ally. The only people he trusted were those belonging to his own family.

Helena, on the other had, had grown fiery and proud over the years. With her stone-cold brother to enforce her word, she made a great deal of enemies, though she was loyal and true to those she cared about most. Her warmth burned some and made others thrive. It was a simple game of chance.

Kind of like that fateful day...

 

The pair often fought together and did missions in unison, for they had both grown exceptionally paranoid through time's tests. In town, they hunted down a small-time politician. Ah, how they hated him. He was in favor of just killing every suspected assassin on sight. While they would get a lot of assassins, it would cause much unnecessary death of civilians. So they went to take him out. Silently, silently, silently...

No. The man hired some great guards, that was for sure. A few saw the pair from the corners of their eyes and immediately took action.

What happened after that was a bit of a blur, but there was much blood and little of it was assassin blood. Until one signaled to a sniper (armed with bow and arrow, of course) to get Helena in her back while she wasn't looking. And Zero, what with his keen eyes and cold, analytical ways, realized this. Mind working quickly, he leaped in front of the arrow, saving his sister. But the poisoned tip killed him almost instantly. And Helena felt him fall behind her. Turning quickly, she knelt down next to him, trying to feel his pulse. But then a sword went through her and she fell beside her brother. In her last dying instant, she laughed. "And so we both fall..."

 

Love is the most prominent cause of death. Be warned.

[Dusset]

Some years later, Sophia was a grown woman of eighteen, and had been an assassin for years. She was a savage fighter, and inherited her father's shield, which she preferred strapped to her back than to her arm.

Cyrus was old now, nearly forty. He held the brotherhood as Mentor when news was received that Helena had died. He knew in his heart and in his mind his time was limited, and there was little he could do about it, so he kept busy. He made no radical changes as he had no time to see them through, but he had trained two of his children before he deemed himself unfit for the field. Kestrel would finish his training with another master, and CJ would have one assigned to him within the next two years. One morning, he gathered his children and told them he loved them, for no apparent reason. He had little clue what was to come, but every now and again, would gather them just to say it. He wanted them to know. So he sat outside their cave-base in a chair with a warm drink. He enjoyed overlooking the mountains and smiled as he could see several birds pass over the land. He finished his drink and smiled. He had led a good life, he thought.

And it was the last thought he had.

His body barely even shifted, his hand still on the cup, as his heart gave out.

 

((Placed Sophia, Moose.))

[Mousia]

(Did you want me to place her or are you saying that you did place her? Because I can't find where she is if it's the latter.)

[Dusset]

((I placed her chronologically, but I now realize that I cut the part about her being in the cave... So... Do what you will.))

[Mousia]

Thais had grown up too. He was fairly tall and looked like a man proper. With pitch black hair and even darker eyes, he seemed to always have sadness in his gaze. The deep purple bags under his eyes just made that idea seem all the more plausible. With no parents of siblings to speak of, the boy seemed to be alone almost constantly, though he did have a mentor for a while and trained with him sometimes until he became a full assassin. After that, he just became all the more reclusive and apathetic. It was almost as if he was bored to some degree. Like he just couldn't be bothered to do anything. He just walked around and sat sometimes and ate and slept for a few hours. Left alone to his thoughts, a few assassins doubted his sanity, for he rarely spoke but a few words. Not like Thais needed to. People moved out of the way when he approached and he didn't take or give.

Leaning against the wall, the indifferent assassin looked up to see assassins milling about. "Tch." Look at them. Just going about their lives, oblivious to the fact that it's all pointless. It all ends and their work was for naught. It's like they're stupid or something. Like they busy themselves with silly work just to entertain the gods. Well, I'll have none of it. I don't care.

But he saw Sophia through the crowd and quickly looked away. Damn it. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that it was stupid, the young woman always reminded him of his old happiness somehow.. Maybe it was the resilience or the bravery that made him hopeful, but he wanted to be around that again. He wanted to feel blissful, like a child. Stop. You've already seen the world's darkness. It's no use. Even the sun casts a shadow... And yet there was a small voice that protested. But...can't you see that...these people see the darkness and they don't care... They're strong enough to keep going, even without perfection.

[Dusset]

Sophia was tending on of the wounded. She had no particular interest in healing, she just happen to be doing nothing, and the best healers were out. When she stood up, happy with her work, she looked around and saw Thais. She trotted over, bottom of her shield hitting her butt with every step. God did she hate that. "Hello, Thais!" She said gleefully. "How are you?"

 

((Sorry, preparing for an Eagle conference.))

[Mousia]

(This post will be crappy, but I don't want to hold things up insanely.)

 

"Me? Oh I'm um..." He coughed awkwardly and averted his eyes uncomfortably. The happiness felt strange after so long. Cynicism was his shield. It protected him from everything that could possibly hurt him. What was the point? How could one hurt something that already hated and spat upon everything? But hope... That could hurt a man like him. A man who was so utterly unprepared for it. And Thais got winded frequently. Every hit. Every punch of a harsh reality that he thought he'd accepted already. "I'm...okay. What about you?"

[Dusset]

((We need to find a way to expedite this.

But how does one expedite romance?))

 

"I'm doing just fine. That's more than I can say about that poor soul." Sophia said, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb, gesturing to the guy she was patching up earlier. "But other than that, my day's been going very well. Hey, I was thinking about heading out. I heard there was a stream between two of the peaks. Thought I might check it out. Wanna come?"

[TwilightMoonDragon]

[Maybe we should just skip to the beginning of the next gen?

Also, I'm so sorry about your grandpa, Moose. If you need to talk, I'll be here.]

[Dusset]

((Yeah, we should.

Also, my condolences.))

[RainDash]

[Yeah, we should.

Also, what all are we doing plot wise for this gen?]

[Dusset]

1600 C.E.

 

Cullen had stayed in Rome for a night. His ship had arrived the night before and he was eager to get some rest before he was on another. Besides, he'd been told it would be in port for awhile more. So, he gathered up his things and exited the inn, walking towards the harbor. He stared at ship to ship, looking for Sista Viska emblazoned on the side of a hull. After an hour of fruitless searching, he came to a ship that he nearly passed, but looked at the last second and there it was. Sista Viska. Walking to the gangplank, he stood just before it and called up, "Uh... Ciao! Captano... Ceto?" He kept referring to a sheet of paper he had with him. Almost archaic information about the Italian Creed that Ireland had, and on the back he'd scribbled the boat's name and captain along with a few other things for his own use. He'd spent no time bothering to find the Mentor, and went straight to seeking out the boat. It occurred to him it was Sunday, and this Ceto may be at church, like he should be, but he was in a new country. He didn't know where to go for that.

[TwilightMoonDragon]

Ceto

 

"What do you mean that you don't have anymore money ?"

The voice was almost to loud, even for Ceto. The angry words bounced off of the walls of the wooden cabin, burrowing into her ears and making her wince internally. Though, externally she kept a calm composure as she stared at the trembling, tall blond man. Her feet were kicked up on her desk, and she was picking things from under her fingernails with her hidden blade. Sure, it made her left hand look awkward; due to a foolish accident, she only had four of her fingers instead of five.

She was heavily adorned with earrings and necklaces that she had stolen from enemies and victims, signaling out her rank and importance. Gold, silver, diamonds, garnets, sapphires, rubies and more, it was as if she was a peacock strutting her stuff. Around her waist hung two scimitars and a match lock, as well as a few medium sized flasks. She was a well known alcoholic, and even at the moment she wasn't entirely sober.

Ceto was a short woman overall; pretty, but short. No one liked her much except for most of her crew, however. Black hair was kept in a messy low ponytail, and her eyes were glossy with liquor and dull as she glanced back up at the fuming and paranoid man.

"I told you already, Casio. The expenses were used to pay for damages for the ship, pay my crew, and pay for supplies. And that's all... Costly." she nodded sharply toward the small coin purse that laid between them. "You're lucky that I gave you that much."

"Three hundred florins is not enough to feed seventy hungry mouths!" Casio slammed his fist on the table. "I swear, Ceto. If you don't bring back at least one thousand florins the next time you sail by here, I'm cutting the operation."

"Last time I checked, you weren't in charge." she bit back, as quick as a viper. "And the Italian Creed isn't funding this. I am. You're just lucky that I choose to serve you."

In anger, Ceto threw the purse at Casio, who took it and stormed off. He was mumbling under his breath now, and she scowled to herself. But as the door swung open, she heard someone call her name.

Ceto sighed and got up to her feet, walking onto the deck and toward the gangplank. There was a scrawny red haired man. She was high above him, grinning with her chest out. "Who's askin'?" she demanded. How she loved to be superior and in control...

[Dusset]

Cullen heard shouting and an argument, when suddenly a blonde man in assassin robes stormed passed him. He paid little heed. A woman, adorned in ridiculous amounts of jewelry and precious metals. Her posture gave her away before she answered him, this was Ceto. "Ciao. My name is Cullen Reid, I requested transfer from Ireland. I supposed to be..." He checked his paper again and said, "The new navigator?" He wasn't particularly nervous, and he hadn't forgotten what he was there for. This was just the most Italian he'd spoken in months. He'd had to learn the language without aides. "You're Miss Ceto, I presume?" He asked, just to make sure he had this all straight, and in case his initial assessment was wrong. He pondered briefly why that man had been so angry but he sent it from his mind. There was no reason to meddle in things he wasn't a part of.

[TwilightMoonDragon]

Ceto

 

Ceto snorted when the man- Cullen Reid -introduced himself and called her Miss Ceto. "It's Captain Ceto to you." she snarled, a bit peeved that he would not use the proper terminology. She was a captain, alright, and she worked hard to get that position. She slaved and worked and sweated and bled for the position. She wanted people to call her Captain Ceto as long as she demanded. "So, yer the new navigator? Not much to look at, that's the truth." she snickered. "Come on board, then. You might want to get acquainted with the crew and with the territory. You also might wanna go and get yer stuff unpacked." with a grin, she turned around and walked across the deck and looking over the ocean. It was so blue today... She couldn't wait to sail and plunder. Not to mention, Casio promised to bring back a few papers for her to look at... So they would probably leave port late at night or early at the morning.

[Dusset]

"Aye, Captain." Cullen said, correcting himself. His native Irish slang coincided with pirate quite well. He walked up the plank and took a look around. There were a few leers from the crew as he walked aboard. He looked scholarly, and his clothes were proper dress. That wouldn't likely gain him favor with these men and women. He wondered if everyone was an assassin, or if Ceto hired crew members regularly. Looking up at the crow's nest, he knew he'd be up there a bit. Perfect. It was the best view and angle of shot the boat had to offer. He paused a moment and asked Ceto, "What's Sista Viska mean, exactly?" He didn't recognize it as Italian, and it wasn't Irish, so it had to be something else.

[TwilightMoonDragon]

Ceto

 

Ceto turned toward Cullen again. Her eyes were sharp and unkind, and her lips were turned slightly downward. It was the way that she usually looked at her crew members, lest she liked them. Even then, they received around the same treatment. There was no favoritism here, or in her heart. Sure, she... Kind of got around with Castiel during their younger years, but that time was long gone and they acted as if it never happened. They were still extremely close friends, and when they fought against the British guards they would fight in sync, matching every attack, blow for blow. He had literally taken her under his wing when she was found at sea, and taught her all of the ropes. "Sista Viska means Silent Whisper in Swedish. I suggest that you go and learn other languages. We've been as far as Asia, once." she sized him up and looked at him coolly. "Ye wouldn't survive one moon at sea. Yer all skin 'n bones. No meat on ye at all."

[Dusset]

Cullen nodded when she told him the meaning. Dramatic. She pointed out that he didn't have much muscle, and he thought about flying a knife past her ear but decided against it. "We'll see, Captain. You might be surprised what comes in lithe packages. Don't discount me just yet. This bow isn't for show." He said, tipping his head to the side a moment. "It's not like you're very big either, though. Little on the short side, no? I wouldn't underestimate you, though. You shouldn't me, either." He looked her up and down and saw nothing surprising. "Besides, if I was all skin and bones, I couldn't drink you under a table."