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Shadows: Whisper | Assassin's Creed

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Cullen Reid

 

Cullen shook Bella's hand with vigor. "It doesn't like you've aged so well, either." He joked, a little poison on his tongue as he smiled. "This is Ambra. A good friend of mine from my ship. She never saw much of Ireland so I thought I'd bring her and show her around!" He noticed Ambra was shying away from his friends who were popping up and leaving in rapid succession. "But we should get settled in. It's nice to see you, Bella. We'll all have to catch up later." Turning to his amber-haired friend, he said, "C'mon. Let's see if they gave us the crap bunk or not." Only the one? Would they fit? He could give it to Ambra and sleep in the common, or even the bar.

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Ambra Neirum

 

"Sorry, Cullen, was a bit distracted with your gray nose hair flaring out of your nostril! What'd you say?" Bella smirked and snorted, and clapped the man on the shoulder. With that, she turned and strode away, getting up on the table in the common and yelling something at someone before an object smashed into her head and made her fall over. Ambra winced at the loud clatter and scampered down the hall. "Why is it so loud?" she asked, wandering around until she found the barracks. "Can't they be quiet?" she jabbed once more, slipping into the room. It was warm and cozy in there. Smiling, she decided that this would be a good place to read books. It was then that she saw the bunk. Her brows furrowed and her lips pouted. The bunk waited for them. It looked cold... "Well... there it is." she flicked her eyes toward him. "So... I can sleep in the common..." she murmured.

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"Quiet? I'm not sure most of us know what that means." Cullen said with a smile so wry you might think he a thief. He talked to someone shortly and followed to the barracks. At least they hadn't been given the bad bunk. That was normally given to the newest of apprentices. Rickety as Hell. "Nonsense. You'll take the bunk, I'll room somewhere else." Cullen said. Their bags were already on the bunk. "Far be it from me to force a lady on the floor."

 

((Uhm... It's almost midnight. I'm lucky I could type this much. xd.png))

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Chuckling lightly, Abe grinned and let herself be pulled along. "Alright. If you say so." She took a deep breath and began to pick up her own pace so she could walk with Mary rather than simply being pulled by her. Though Abe was senior to her, she wasn't actually that much older, so keeping up was fairly easy. "So where are we going to get pastries? I won't mope unless I get too fat to run. That'd be a tragedy, aye?" she joked after a long spell of solemness. Too long. Smiling, she thought for a moment. If they were going out as friends, she'd put an effort into it! It was the least she could do, after all. What places sold pastries nearby? She couldn't think of the names off the top of her head, but a few did come to mind, but it had been years since she'd last eaten a pastry. Or anything that wasn't stale or half-rotted, for that matter! "What about...this place?" she suggested, coming to a sudden halt and motioning toward a pastry shop that stood before them. It sold coffee and tea and herbs and medicine and sweets and some Roman assassins had suggested it to her the last time she had spoken to them. "Apparently a lot of assassins come here and it's pretty good."

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Mary stopped when Abe asked where they could go for food. She… hadn't thought about that. She usually didn't have money to pay off her own inn costs, and barely kept up with all the clothes she ran through. Well, that was back then anyway. Mary didn't know about any pastry shops, she'd heard about them though. "Okay then, let's go and eat pastries and stuff. If we have to, I'm pretty sure that we can ditch on the bill. Mary smiled, glad that Abe was finally feeling better. As compared to her own tragedy that had happened so long ago, but felt as though it had happened a minute ago. She was alone and beaten, her hair completely severed to where some people thought she was a boy. She had to hold it all together herself, trying to keep from crying out. She had been alone, and she wasn't going to let anyone else suffer like that. "Well then, what are we waiting for? You aren't going to eat something standing here, and besides, I've never had a pastry before. You get to make fun of my ignorance and we'll let whatever happened blow over!" Mary walked inside, trying to get a better view of the place. It smelled like bread and flowers, which somehow made the place feel like a sort of home.

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Ambra Neirum

 

Ambra quirked an eyebrow. Laughter still boomed from the common, streaming into the barracks. Why people loved to make a scandal, she didn't know. She prefered the silence of the library. The smell of the worn and tattered pages of books. The feel of the leather binds against her fingers. Someone said that she treated books as she treated a lover. Gentle caresses of their yellow pages, gazing intently upon their words. "It's your birthday. You sleep on that bunk. I have no trouble sleeping on the floor or table." she offered him a soft, gleaming smile. Cullen was a good man. Strong, firm, quick, smart. Her blue eyes... perhaps they rested on him for too long. They darted back at the wall and her pale lips curled into a frown. "Go on. I'll go back to the barracks. Or maybe I'll camp outside..."

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Theresa was mad. Well, that was an understatement on her mood. Theresa was verifiable thunderstorm ready to destroy anything that stood in her way. She gave cold glares and asked through her teeth where Poppy was, tersely wording everything she said, avoiding having her entirety of anger spill out onto someone undeserving. She waiting to kill Poppy… then maybe Castiel for good measure. She'd gotten her hands on the papers that those two had been passing around. They were fakes. They were fakes because she'd seen real Templar papers before, and these… they were close, but they didn't need to be signed. Which either meant someone had tried to frame Ceto using a poorly forged signature, or while Ceto was drunk, was forced to sign the papers. "Where's Poppy! I want to speak with her right now! She'd better come out before I decide to gut someone else!" Theresa exploded, her resentment and anger that she had been fostering over the months finally being released. She didn't forget about what Ceto said when she left, and those cut deeper than anything. She'd become obsessed with the papers, convinced that she needed to see the papers for herself. Today was the day she'd finally seen them, and now she was out for blood.

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Aero held Ceto tightly. He could only imagine her fear, anger and despair at this. He understood her feelings, she wanted what was hers and she was ready to fight for it, and now she was being forced to sit on the sidelines and watch. He stroked her head gently, running his fingers through her hair. "We're going to what we've always managed, get through this alive and better off. We're going to get your ship back Ceto, I promise you." He said. He felt a knot in his stomach, he needed to speak the words he never thought would be possible, he cared for Ceto more than anything or anyone else. He wanted her to know that, he needed her to know that, maybe then she would start trusting him more. "I love you, Ceto, I don't want you to suffer through this anymore. So please trust that I will succeed."

 

((I figure since we're ending somewhat soon...))

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Cullen Reid

 

Cullen put a hand on Ambra's shoulder. "I'm nt going to let you sleep in the barracks when I'm in a bed." He said, a little exasperated. A moment of thought and he finally said, "We could share the bed." The bunk wasn't small but it wasn't big. He personally knew they could accommodate two people, or one metric Borris. It wouldn't be odd, would it? Probably not. They only had the one bed and they couldn't decided who was going to sleep in it. "What do you think?" Picking up Ambra's bag he stowed it below the bunk, because whether or not he was sleeping there, she was.

 

((Extra late lunch.))

Edited by Dusset

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Ceto Sylvini

 

At Aero's words, Ceto pulled away. "No. Let me go." she told him, tears streaming down her cheeks and her face flushed. "I'm sorry, but I just don't love you, Aero. I hate you, and I hate this baby, and I hate my life!" she screamed at him, turning and leaving. She had to have a drink... just a little.

 

[bed. Wanna skip a bit now? Duss?]

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((Yes. Skeep.))

 

Poppy was drinking in the captain's quarters when she heard Theresa. She kicked open the door and stepped out. "How may I help you, lassie?" She asked with a grin. "Keep up 'yer mouth and I'll see 'ya strung up from 'da yardarm and tickled to death!" She didn't take the woman seriously. Why should she? She was first mate now. The captain was in her pocket. She held all the cards! Who gave a censorkip.gif what Theresa thought!? No one! That was who! Certainly not the Mighty Poppy. The once innocent noble girl, turned deadly pirate, turned leader of men! God, she was impressive. Certainly she was the master of her house. "Can 'ye keep civil or must I shoot some manners into 'ya?" Her spare hand was resting on a pistol, all ready to fire. She would live to kill Theresa. She just needed reason. Otherwise she might lose favor with her crew. "I'd take either, it 'so up to you." She took a swig. Jäger. Her namesake drink. Celebratory.

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Theresa would honestly sooner roll over and ask her Poppy to rub her belly than back down. Poppy had the crew in her side, so it was likely that Theresa's cause wouldn't be helped if she killed Poppy here and now. "So… first mate," Theresa sneered her lip curling at the title Poppy had given herself, "how are those wounds? The large x across your chest if I remember right." She swaggered up to Poppy, her cold stare making the room drop almost ten degrees. "All it would take is a good cut to open those up again. Let you bleed out on the deck. Then we would feed you to the crows, after making sure you could still feel it as they… well, I don't think I need to tell you." Theresa's lips twitched briefly into a smile, "this crew is nothing but a bunch of vultures, waiting for the chance to end your reign. The second you slip up, the moment you misspeak, they will eat you alive." Theresa lightly shoved Poppy, waiting to see if the girl would flinch. "If you think for one moment that you are better than I am, I will end you. Then I will end Castiel, and I'll watch as you two fade from the crew's minds like a bad memory." She leaned in closer, so that Poppy wouldn't miss a single word. "Don't think you're in charge yet, girl. I still know more about this crew than you do."

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Poppy sneered. She took a swig and laughed in Theresa's face, while they were nose to nose, breathe bursting into her face. "Pwah!" Thesresa thought she was scary. "How'd you like me to break your knee caps? I won't hold back like with Garrett. I'll snap you forward and break you backwards. You think you're scary? That I'm frightened by your idle threats? That I stay up at night, worried that Castiel or I might not wake up the next morning at your hand? Woman, you live at my pleasure. I might even use you as an example." The pirate stuck a finger into Theresa's chest and shoved. Hard. "*censorkip.gif." She spat, anger suddenly plastered on her face. "If you 're so unhappy with my leadership why don't you just jump ship? Get off my planks and whatnot?" Slamming her drink in one go she slapped the flask on her belt and grinned. "Is that all you require? Or can I help you further? I mustn't tarry long, I have such important matters to attention to." She turned on the charm. The class. Posture, tone, mannerisms. The works. She did it to screw with Theresa, who actually acted in such a way, normally. If they'd met earlier in life, they 'do likely have been good friends.

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"Never had a pastry?!" Abigail exclaimed comically as she held the door open for her companion - friend? - to enter the little shop. It was warm and quiet, with only a few other people sitting there sipping, nibbling, and chatting quietly. Strolling up to the counter with a kind of swagger that aptly concealed her previous sadness, she leaned on it and looked at the clerk smugly. "Give me two of everything."

"Can you pay for it?"

"Of course." Sliding out her hidden blade, Abe grinned and pressed the cold metal up to his neck, though it was only the flat part of the blade. She didn't want to actually kill him - too messy. "With your life."

Sighing as though he'd been threatened such before, he rolled his eyes and got two of each of his pastries for the short-haired assassin.

"Here you are."

"Thank you kindly," she granted, tossing him a small golden piece from an African nation that was probably invalid in Rome. Setting the large order of sweets down on a small table, she sat down and gestured for Mary to sit down also.

"It's just a matter of knowing to how talk to these people, see? You can have all the extravagance in the world if you've got a silver tongue. Or a silver knife."

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Theresa

 

"Do you think that would have been the worst thing that ever happened to me?" Theresa said, her eyes cold. Her lip twitched, trying to form into another sneer. No, this time she kept her emotions hidden under her mask. "You know, if you had said that you were innocent, I would have spared you. When Ceto comes back, and she is coming back I'll let her in on all your dirty little secrets. You think I don't listen? You. Are. A. Scared. Child." Theresa moved back to her door, sweeping her legs into a kind curtsy. "Ma'am, I look forward to watching as all the power you seized rises up against you. I look forward to the day when you hang from the gallows. Or maybe we'd make you a slave on the ship. No power, no command, just a hollow body swabbing the deck. Castiel would be dead of course, need to send a message. Now, if you're done posing as a lady, this Countess shall leave, taking all her money with her. A shame too, maybe this boat will sink back into Davy Jones' locker with you in it."

 

Mary

 

"You didn't have to threaten him, really. I would have paid for the pastries... somehow." Mary said, a little startled. "Besides, aren't we supposed to keep a low profile in the city?" Mary didn't know about Assassins and Templars, but she knew that maybe pirates in a city wouldn't last long if everyone knew about them. Mary picked a spot by the window to sit. "But, we're not going to worry about that. We're going to eat pastries and drown our sorrows in the sugary frosting and bread!" Mary cheered, smiling again at Abe.

 

[bed.]

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The Final Chapter

 

Theresa lived another ten years after the Sista Viska was retaken. She tried open up to people more, and though her anger was still an issue, she kept it under wraps. She grew close to Roberts, but five years after finally admitting her affection for him she walked down a street with Ceto. On pure instinct after seeing a flash of a gun, Theresa knocked Ceto to the ground, and took the bullets for her. There were three bullets fired all at once from Templars. Theresa fell to her knees and the Templars fled, their mission a failure. Theresa was laid to rest by her brother, who later aided the Assassins by using his contacts to eliminate the Templars who killed her. Her brother later joined the Assassins himself, and also named his first born girl 'Theresa' after his sister.

Aero grew to be old. His sandy hair turned white, his eyes faded to grey and his skin lost its youthful look. He grew wearier by the day until finally he went to bed and died peacefully in his sleep, satisfied with his life as a whole.

Cullen Reid fell in love with Ambra Neirum in Ireland. They returned to the Sista Viska for a short time but decided to return to the Emerald Isle. There, they served the brotherhood for several years but eventually retired to the countryside. Cullen purchased land and built a farm from scratch to support their, then, growing family. Three children, two daughters and a son, were born to the couple. Cullen and Ambra grew into old age, training their offspring as Assassins, but rarely bringing up their brief time spent as pirates, since niether had truly been one. Cullen got back in touch with Abigail briefly, and settled past tensions, finding that both were happier. With a bit of wealth and a profitable estate, a loving family and a soul mate, Cullen died from old age at the ripe old age of sixty four. His son went onto become the Irish Mentor and drove the Creed into success and led in a time of peace, finishing the work Cullen had begun after returning home.

Abigail Dunn changed her name to Abigail Hemsworth after marrying the Sista Viska carpenter, Garrett. They stayed aboard the ship for a bit before she got pregnant. Leaving her beloved cannons behind to a promising young sailor with as much passion for them as she, the black-haired woman and her husband left at an English port and lived out the rest of their lives on a slow farm in the hills of England. They had eight children in total and, stunningly, all of them grew to adulthood. In her last leg of life, Abigail gathered her kids 'round and told them the story of her and Garrett's life, but changed the names and told them it was a fiction. That story carried on in their family for generations and generations. It became the go-to story of the Hemsworth's, whose family line eventually crossed paths with the assassins again at some point.

Duncan, after leaving the pirating crew and the assassins at the ripe old age of thirty, devoted the rest of his life to Christianity and became a priest in a slum town in Italy. He taught youngsters how to live and gave sage advice. Remaining celibate, he never had any children, but the young people he passed wisdom onto surely did him proud by making advances in sciences, governments, maths, and philosophy. His existance was not lost on the world after a life of loneliness.

Mary managed to find her way back to the Sista Viska, and eventually moved to Ireland with Robb. In a lot of ways, Mary took charge of the farm. She would often take over plowing fields for Robb in exchange for not having to clean or cook. While she did not have many children, Mary raised her one child carefully. When there were rumors of Assassins, she considered having her child join them. It took a lot of convincing, but when the boy was fourteen, he started his training away from home. While not directly friends with the other crew members, she still wrote to Ceto, Roberts, and on rare occasions, Theresa. Mary lives to sixty three, and at the end of her life, wrote a memoir. Her child grew up to be one of the Irish Masters of the Creed and wrote to her regularly. She'd reply only with two words, "thank you." Her son found her last letter to contain a copy of her memoir and the words, "I love you, son."

Nobody really knows what happened to Heidi (a.k.a. Poppy) or Castiel.

 

It's been a long road. We've watched our homes burn and dug them from the fires, rebuilding. Handed down our legacy to our children and watched it progress for years. We've visited our roots and touched on numerous pasts. It's been a long road, but the story doesn't die. The road won't end here, we're just taking a turn. Won't you come join us? We've plenty room.

A new era begins here.

 

FIN

Edited by Mousia

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