abiitmanes:
Perhaps in the past he would’ve needed a moment to dig up those words, but in the past, he had always denied the idea of Assassins and Templars – yet now, he fully identified as an Assassin for the first time in his life. Now he understood those tenets were a part of his blood, in more ways than one. After all, he had spilled the very same blood coursing through his veins for those ideas.
Hearing his name roll off of the other’s tongue as if he had tasted something new and was undecided on whether or not he liked it, the bartender remained quiet, watching the other closely. And if he was religious, he might’ve been praying. Yet it didn’t come to Hail Marys as the other at last shook his hand, giving a soft smile. His eyes seemed bittersweet – nearer melancholy. What had happened? This place felt hollow, hollower than what he remembered, no, of what he knew of Altaïr’s time, and this man’s blatant suspicion spoke volumes. Desmond’s arm dropped to his side as well, his own hidden blade similarly prepared should it come to blows.
“Sef?”
– ah, shit. That was Altaïr’s son, right? Then that meant the one who presided in the castle was… Abbas, undermining as much authority as he could in his desires to cling to the old ways, building himself a wall of insecurity. Desmond’s breath hitched before he then momentarily widened his smile, trying not to reveal the sudden, budding anxiety from within. Abbas wasn’t exactly the role model for open-mindedness.
“Nice to meet you. Um…”
He didn’t have any place to ask this, but it was worth a shot. First, blend in a little, then use that to try to figure out what the hell was going on.
“You wouldn’t know where to find a spare set of robes? As you can see, mine aren’t exactly fitting of the area, and I don’t want to cause any more problems. Sorry about that.”
was it hard to catch that hitch in his brother’s breath? far from. if anything, it had been rather obvious. since he was still a child, he’d been trained to notice subtle shifts; it was the only thing to keep him alive. but it almost seemed like the man had heard his name before. so that rose the question: was he truly a friend or did he follow abbas? blue hues looked over desmond when the statement reached his ears. the robes didn’t look like it was fitting anywhere. it hardly seemed decent. then again, it could easily be traditional clothing from where desmond had come from, so sef had brushed it off for the most part.
“ i do know, yes. ” his tone was low, attention wavering to search the area once more. if he were to leave his post, it was best not to get caught. the last thing he needed was to be scolded by his elder brother-- or worse, his father. it took him a beat before actually brushing past the man and towards the castle, risking turning his back. but that didn’t mean he wasn’t listening for the smallest sound of shifting metal. he wouldn’t allow himself to be so easily killed.
“ if you are truly a brother, then i trust you won’t try anything drastic. ”
