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Shadows: Whisper | Assassin's Creed

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Garrett

 

Oh God, it hurt.

The poison was like a snake in his veins, slithering closer and closer to his heart. Once it reached it, it would coil around it and squeeze the life from it. And when it stopped, he would die. Garrett laid there for a while, and after a bit his eyes stung with tears. He couldn't get up. He had tried. But the images that flashed in his memory as he searched for some comfort were all of what picked him up. The girl. It was always the girl. With her braided hair, her sharp eyes... And Cullen. They would be together. They would never be bothered by his ogling again. And they would be happy. The tears flowed, and dripped onto the floor. Maybe... it could have been different.

Someone leapt into the room, and began to speak to him. He recognized the accented voice as the second mate, Stark Dietrich. "Poison... poison..." he wheezed, every breath he took burned his lungs. Maybe... God was saving him? This was his chance!

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Poison? Stark's head snapped down to finally look at the man. Garrett's stomach had been sliced by the merchant's sword. Curses slipped easily from his mouth as Stark looked down at the wound. "Alright then. I suppose I'll have to carry you out of here. Trust me, Garrett. I can't have you bucking around on my back when we get up on the deck," He glanced at the loot in the room and grimaced. Ceto would have his head for choosing a man's life over the loot. Or, maybe not. It was so hard to tell with her sometimes. He pursed his lips. It'd be easy enough to send someone down when he ran back up with Garrett. "I'll send someone down for the loot."

 

As Stark leaned down to put Garrett's arm over his head, he realized the first true problem with the situation. Garrett was a considerably stocky fellow, and Stark lacked in muscle mass. He swore in German as he leaned closer to the man, lightly touching his arm. There was no way that the journey was gonna be comfortable. Not with the cut, nor the poison, nor being carried on the back of a bony German man. "You need to hold on to me. I'm not sure how I'll get you back the whole way, but I can get you up the stairs. Surely there'll be someone else who can help," Stark offered his body as support to the man. They had to get moving quickly, poison wasn't anything to fool around with.

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((Roberts to the rescue?))

 

The path Roberts was cleaving was obvious. Others may be killing, but he was hitting arteries. Veins. Hearts. Blood was pooling at his feet and his hands were growing red. Nothing made him happier and had come dangerously close to killing a crewmate from the Sista Viska, but stopped himself. Soon though, no one was on the deck. He decided that he'd exhausted his fun above and flew down the stairs below. He only found one crewman and he was unarmed. Then shortly after, he didn't have arms. Roberts cleaned the blades off on his boots and sheathed them again. Walking about, he noticed two limping along. He couldn't make out who it was so he drew his kukri. Coming closer, however, he saw that it was Garrett and Stark. Garrett was a good kid as far as he could tell, and Stark was technically above him in rank (though if he didn't get respect from Stark, they might have a few issues. He'd been sailing much longer). "Com'ere lads. Ol' Uncle Sam is here to help." He got Garrett's weight under him along with Stark but knew he couldn't do it alone. He might still have plenty of muscle but his bones were old. "You can tell me what happened later. After I come back for that loot I spied."

 

Poppy dashed to the deck in time for fighting. She saw the Irishman up above, sending our arrows faster than she'd seen. Drawing her flail, she jumped ships, almost missing the rail for the Lance. She boarded and was assailed by a heavy set man with a glint in his eye. It didn't last long as she caved his skull in. Then suddenly a bang cracked the air. Maybe not for everyone else but she heard it like a rocket had gone off a foot from her. She clutched at her arm and dropped her flail. Stark's cloak covered her body as she fell onto the deck. The bullet had grazed her arm and penetrated her chest. It didn't go deep enough to do much, as one of her ribs caught it, but she was in danger. She reached out with her good arm to grab her fallen weapon but came up short before it was kicked from her reach. Is this how I die? Really? A routine raid where one French censorkip.gif*** gets the drop on me? Maybe if she hadn't been grinning and taking in her previous kill.

Edited by Dusset

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Theresa

 

Theresa waited. When the others went, she leapt onboard. Her shoulders relaxed, letting her lay her blades flat on the deck, while her legs were curled under her. She kept her eyes shut, waiting. One… two… Her eyes snapped open when she heard the man rush forward, his clumsy footsteps causing the deck to shake. In one move his head was cleared from his shoulders, and the rest stood somewhat surprised as Theresa moved like a dancer, slicing each man before he could react. When she reached the last one, he moved his sword up, swinging wildly. Theresa's sword danced gracefully and slit the man's throat, felling him much like a tree. She moved on, scanning the men that were left with cold and bitter eyes. One stared too long, and she struck her blade across his eyes, cutting into both and leaving the man screaming and blind. Then she noticed Poppy, struggling with killing those men. She struggled with the choice, but in the end she held her dagger between her teeth and shot her other flintlock, sending the man who had been threatening Poppy overboard. She moved over to where Poppy's sword laid, and kicked it over. "Do not let your guard down. Next time, I will not save you."

 

Mary

 

She'd never held a proper sword, but she made do. She managed to hold off two men at once, felling one and hobbling the other. She smiled and turned her back for one second, and felt the searing pain of a sword slice up her shoulder. Mary twirled around and noticed that the man which she thought had been hobbled was merely crippled. "That, was a good blow. Unfortunately, had you stayed down, I wouldn't have had ta kill you." she smiled and shrugged, parrying the man for a few moments before she managed to stab him in the stomach. She smiled again when she won. Her shoulder was bleeding pretty good, the strike starting at her lower back and going the whole way up to her left shoulder. New pain blazed whenever she moved it though, so it would be best to move back to the boat and wait. She'd done enough for today. She grit her teeth and hoped that this would be easier over time, because she'd just killed two men. When she joined the ship, she had hoped that Assassins was a simple title. Turned out that everyone was killers. Better a killer than a 'dancer' she supposed, more honor in battle than dying of starvation on the street. She collapsed in a pile on the Sista Viska, trying to hold most of the blood flowing out her shoulder in. Maybe Robb, since he was training to be a surgeon, would work on it.

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"Just like the mother I never asked for." Poppy said sarcastically. She grabbed her flail but put it back onto her belt, drawing her large dagger. "You know, I had that under control. I was going to grab at his feet and trip him." She stood up keeping her injured arm close to her body. If she continued to fight she might agitate the nullet and nothing on this boat was worth it. She looked dead at Theresa. Right into her eyes. "Thanks." She turned and jumped up on the railing and crossed the gap. She stayed above deck to ensure the relative safety of their own ship. Men on the French boat were falling fast and there were few left. When the rest of the crew raided te cargo holds she'd dress her wound. She owed too many people. Two was too many. Theresa had given her more but Stark had a favor to call and she didn't like it at all.

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Castiel

 

Castiel slayed the last Frenchman and bounded over to the other ship. He saw Poppy and walked over to her. "Are you alright? Do you need my son?"

 

[busy]

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Stark recognized Roberts immediately. Though he desperately needed the help, he found himself hating the man for being the one to offer it. Stark offered Roberts a tentative smile and worked with him to get the now unconscious Garrett aboard the Sista Viska. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly had convinced Roberts to help him. The little that Stark knew of the other man didn't exactly support a random act of kindness. Surely this would come back to bite one of them in the ass. Provided the carpenter survived, that is. Stark had dealt with poisons before, but none so fast acting as this. It scared him to think what would happen if the rest of the merchants were armed with poison. "Thanks," Stark grunted, unsure of how else to approach the situation.

 

((Duss, go ahead and say that they make it on the boat or something))

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Poppy looked up from her seat against the mast and said, "I'm fine." The statement itself was prideful and defiant. Of course she wasn't okay. She has a bullet in her. She'd talk to Robb later. "What do you care anyways?" She was still angry with him, and because her revenge plan went belly up it only infuriated her more. She glared at him but questioned her anger. Why did she care so much? This wasn't the first time men had treated her like this. It always ended poorly for them. She had thought he was diferent though. Someone proper. Old thoughts die hard.

 

Roberts helped Stark carry Garrett to their shp. He leapt across the gap and extended a board to get Garrett across. Once he had Garrett'sweight under him, he took him below deck wth Stark. He was taller than both of them and held a lot of the load. They laid him down ona bunk and said. "I know someone on board has to know something about medicine. If it gets worse I'll do something about it."

 

((School.))

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Castiel

 

A blond eyebrow raised. What the heck was wrong with her? He was just trying to be friendly. His blue eyes gazed at her. Was she pissed off from his kiss? Still? It wasn't even that bad! "I care about you, Poppy. I think you're a wonderful woman."

 

[i'll be busy for the rest of the day. So short posts. ]

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"I bet you say that to all your floozies." Poppy said. She stood up to walk away but said, "I don't know how you'e used to treating women. But pushing me against walls isn't a good place to start." As she spoke, she answered her own question. She wasn't angry at what he did. No. She was angry at how it made her feel. She drew close to him and whispered viciously, "Nobody makes me feel helpless. Not nobody. Not no how. I will cut you if you try something like that again." Admitting that made her feel more confident about her stance. The jack-off still hadn't apologized.

 

((Better than nothing. I'm back to Kindle so length will be reduced again.))

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Castiel

 

His blue eyes scanned over her face. She was extremely close, and her breath was like poison. Yet, he loved her angered voice, her flaming words. Why could they have not have each other? Even for a bit... Only for an hour. Castiel gazed down at Poppy and grinned at the woman. Yes, this was a wonderful woman. He wondered if she had a lover. Probably back in German. An estranged one, though. For an instant, he thought about Robb's mother in France. He remembered that he had her, and made her with child. And then she yelled at him, calling him a censorkip.gif*** and shoving Robb into his arms. Robb was a blessing, though. He loved his son. "Listen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way. It's just that you're so pretty." he told her and turned to walk away.

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Poppy didn't think that was valid enough. But she walked away anyways, anger vented. She just returned to her bunk. They began sailing away from France now loaded with cargo. About a week passed and they were in Italy's port again. Rome. Poppy had done little with her time. Hadn't slept around. She woke up the first morning in port and realized she'd forgotten something as it stuck out from under her bunk. She grabbed Stark's cloak and rushed to his room. He should be awake since she woke late. She knocked and said, "Stark! I have your cloak!" She'd promised him it back the night she borrowed it but she forgot after shhe got drunk to pass the pain of the bullet.

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Stark wasn't entirely sure what had happened the night before. All he had was fuzzy memories. That was the last time that he let Ceto convince him to drink with her. He spent the majority of the morning sitting on his bunk, piecing together the night. At one point he'd swung at a crewman and, for whatever reason, he ended up missing and hitting a wall. That would explain his split knuckles and the dull aching pain in his hand. But, there was a memory that was just a bit more strange to him. At one point, he remembered taking off his clothes in a hot passion. A quick inventory of his quarters revealed that his tunic top was still missing. Since he couldn't remember who he'd been with last night, he figured that he'd find his tunic with his latest conquest.

 

The pounding of his headache was interrupted by a pounding on his door. Poppy's voice rose up, mentioning his cloak. Stark scowled. He'd loaned it to her before the battle, on the promise that he'd be getting it back. Standing up, he stalked to the door and opened it. His glare faded as he locked eyes with the shorter woman. Could this be the woman that he was with last night? He supposed that the only way that he could possibly know was to ask the obvious question.

 

"Did I sleep with you last night?"

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Mary

 

She hadn't been careful. While managing the ropes, she'd managed to tear open her wound from a week ago. She'd be lying if she wasn't using it as an excuse to see Robb. She wasn't going to say it out loud either, but she'd like to be more than friends. However, she didn't think he shared the same feelings. She wasn't going to give up though, maybe... maybe it would work out. However, nothing ever worked out for her. Fairy tale endings were this huge dream, and she'd learned just before boarding the ship that she couldn't expect everything to work out.

 

Theresa

 

She couldn't care less if they needed her help elsewhere. She was going to stay inside all day. She had to think long and hard about what she'd done last week. It was a ritual to keep her anger in check. She spent a day inside away from others to remind herself of what kind of person she was. She was a kind, motherly, and gentle woman. The thought of Poppy insulting her broke her concentration, causing her arm to tense. No, she wasn't going to think about that. If she did... the demons would win.

 

[bed.

Man, sometimes I give the wrong theme songs to characters before I know them, which sucks because now I have a better one for Theresa...]

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Robb

 

"Hey, that tickles!"

"You're ticklish everywhere, Garrett. I imagine that when you get a woman in bed you'll be rolling around and clutching your sides."

Robb sighed as he dressed Garrett's wound again. The man was very pale even though he had given him the antidote. Luckily, he was inflicted with a very common poison. It was one that most pirates had, so of course he kept the antidote with him at all times. Even his voice was dry and raspy, and he was also feverish. The man also moaned in his bed, and tossed and turned. It was to be expected. Poison did not go away that quickly. He would be well by the weekend. Yet, he could walk around a bit. Robb gave him a prescription of alcohol to keep the pain down and put him to bed easier. He sighed again as he bound up his wound and stood up. "This time, don't scratch at it. It'll fester." Robb told him, wiping his hands on a rag.

"It won't really fester, will it?" Garrett asked, concerned.

And Robb replied with a grin, "Would I lie to you?" before he walked off.

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Poppy looked at Stark for a minute with eyebrows perked. "Us? No." She said flat. "I take it you can't handle your drink?" She could tell he had a hangover. She'd been tthere plenty times. "Though. If you play your cards right..." She let that linger a moment before handing him his cloak. "I'm sorry to get this to you late... And with a bullet hole in it." Her eyes became downcast a moment before she sheepishly added, "It's clean though. No blood. Promise." She gave him a grinthat spoke volumes. She never felt sorry. And her grin was of a nervous nature. One that a child migh have wheb they've done something wrong. "I'll be happy to reimburse you, if you want." She should just go. Leave him with it and go out on the town or something, but no.

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Was she suggesting something? Stark felt his irritation setting back in full swing as the conversation continued. He had lent his cloak to Poppy, and it came back ruined. He opened his mouth to rebuke the woman, but quickly snapped it shut. Stark received the cloak, biting angrily at his bottom lip. A curse slid from his mouth as he assessed the damage. It wasn't bad, but anything was bad enough that he'd be mad about it right now. It wasn't a good day. He folded the cloak with practiced moves, and tossed it onto the bunk. Frankly, now that there was a hole in the cloak it looked more common. He knew that at some point it'd get a bit dingy, he'd just been avoiding thinking about the day.

 

"Right, well it will just make me look more like the people won't it? Forget it, Poppy. I have to find out who it was. God forbid..." He trailed off as he thought on whom else it could have possibly been. "Anyway... Just... Buy me a drink or something while we're in town." Stark waved her off angrily, eager to find out whom he'd slept with. "Maybe if you hear about who it was, you can let me know. You girls chat about that stuff don't you?"

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Poppy frowned as she picked up on his anger. "Well Abe and Theresa are prudes." She said. "I didn't get with you. Mary might have. I barely know her. And of course you never know with the good captain." At least she could give him that much. Better than nothing. "It's cute that you think we gossip like that. We don'texactly get along." She was really referring to herself. But she really doubted that the others did. "You might look for one that has a hangover, too."

 

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Ceto

 

The coast of Italy was in view now, the sun's rising bathing it in a beautiful glow. The waves lapped gently at the hull of the Sista Viska, the winds catching her broad dark gray sails perfectly. The day was great, it was warm and sunny. Of course, Ceto didn't look her best. She was slumped over her wheel, her eyes half closed as she struggled to stay awake. She might as well fall in bed and sleep some more when they docked. The Apple was safe, and she was pretty sure that no one would mind. They would be exploring, enjoying the sights of Italy. She looked down at herself, frowning. She had a black tunic shirt on, one that belonged to her second mate. She had had him last night, for fun. And he was very scrumptious indeed. Even his clothes were nicer than hers. That was why she took his tunic and wore it for the day. Maybe she should keep it. That's what pirates did, right? Take things that belonged to others.

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Stark nodded. He would just have to do a bit of detective work. The truth would come out no doubt. He slid gingerly past Poppy. "Right, well. This'll be an interesting day." He grunted, using that to excuse himself from a more detailed conversation. Chances were, he'd find out sooner rather than later. Things like this weren't easy to keep a secret on the boat. The quarters were close, and there wasn't anything in the way of sound proofing. Anything that happened on the boat was usually known by at least one other person in the ship. No matter how hard someone tried to keep it a secret.

 

As he ventured to the deck, Stark squinted against the bright sunlight. Hangovers were the worst part about drinking. In fact, it was the reason why he normally avoided drinking. That, and the annoying tendency for memory loss. If his drunk self could think enough to put a limit on how much he drank, it wouldn't be so bad. But once he started, he just kept going. Stark covered his eyes, scanning the ship. And there, at the wheel, was the ship's captain. Ceto. She would be his best bet for piecing together the past night. Stark climbed slowly to the wheel, cursing himself again for drinking so much. As he reached the wheel, he looked at Ceto. Black wasn't her color. Black wasn't anyone's color. He stood, bare chested, looking at Ceto. Slowly the reality of the situation dawned on him.

 

"You've got to be f***ing kidding me."

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Ceto

 

Ceto yawned when Stark showed up. She gazed at him, blinking slowly. "Wot?" she asked. "Ya gonna get sunburned like that."

 

[school.]

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She knew! She knew exactly what he was going on about. Stark set his jaw, feeling himself stiffen as he looked at her. Had that been her plan all along? Convince him to drink, and then just use him like that? Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? Stark took a step closer to Ceto, making sure that he could keep their conversation low. This wasn't something that he wanted everyone to know about. "The last thing I'm worried about is sunburn. Maybe, if it worries you so much, you could give me my shirt back." He growled quietly. "And then maybe we can find a room to talk in. Whilst we are both fully clothed."

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Ceto

 

A small grin started across her face, her eyes gleaming with challenge. Ah, Stark. He was as eager as a groundhog in the dead of winter. Yet, he was as cunning as a fox and as quick as a viper. Perhaps that is why the masters of the Roman branch gave him to her as an apprentice? Even then, she thought he had adopted some of her methods, as they were a complete menace in battle. Ceto fought dirty as the assassins called it, but all she did was simply confuse and trick her enemies. Sighing, she ordered Castiel to take the wheel since she couldn't find Theresa, and walked into her cabin. It was there where she removed Stark's shirt, and pulled on one of her old blouses. "Why so touchy, hmm, Stark? It's like you're disgruntled with what happened last night." she said it as if nothing. She shrugged at him and gazed at him, brows furrowed deeply. She didn't like acknowledging what she did. But if he pressed on, he was getting a cuff on the jaw. It was how she was. She didn't like talking to any man about their endeavors between their sheets.

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Stark followed Ceto to her room. This would be a quick conversation if he could make it that. The conversation, in fact, wasn't something that he even wanted to have. This was his former mentor, for God's sake. As the gentleman that he was, when Ceto removed his shirt and put on her own, he kept his eyes averted. The tone of that woman's voice... As if his day hadn't had a bad enough start, now he had to deal with Ceto's censorkip.gif. "You know damned well that I am. What the... God, Ceto. What happened? I can't remember a thing," He growled. His mentor. He had been with his mentor. Truthfully, at one point he would have been thrilled. Ceto's grace and general beauty had always captivated him, but as they had spent more and more time together Stark's interest in her changed to a more brotherly love. "God, the last thing I want is you being pregnant. Especially with my kid."

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Ceto

 

Ceto smirked deeper, shaking her head and giving him a sigh. Poor Stark, poor, poor dear Stark. When was he going to get a woman? She could imagine him, making ogling eyes at her. She would tease him so much when he did. What he needed was someone soft, gentle. Someone to pull out his soft side and get him to smile once in a while. "Don't worry about making me with child. I have herbs and potions for that. Now, if you would have had some sort of protection... Then it would be less of a chance." she chuckled. Didn't Stark know that women could take herbs and potions and wear amulets to keep from getting pregnant? She had curled up in bed with many men, and here she was, never pregnant once. "Now. We are nearing the coast of Italy, Rome, actually. What I want you to do is go and sell the silk and some of the rum, and make sure that the merchant gives a good price for it. Then, if you are back at the ship before sundown, you can join Theresa and me in giving the Apple to Casio and Aelia. Then, you can meet someone that we're picking up. She's part of the Creed, don't worry, but she's a scholar and very quiet. She's going to observe the areas that we go to see if we can find the Pieces of Eden and report back to Casio and Aelia once she's done."

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