The Wheels of London Never Stop

There's always work to be done. [ Independent RP blog for Ned Wynert from Assassin's Creed Syndicate ]

[moltementi]

“Dominance isn’t shouts and demands, it’s a hand at the small of your back and whispered words that make your head spin.”

— (via headtripped)

[nedwynerd-blog]

@onlycertainty​ // well well well

Business as usual. Another day, another shipment to be...intercepted. One that one of Ned’s clients have been rather keen on procuring. And with the Frye twins so busy these days--though they have been quite the diligent and preferred of allies--it meant that there were plenty of jobs to go around. One of said shipments had been slotted to arrive but, lo and behold, the Blighters got their grubby hands on them before Ned’s men could take them. A thorn in his side, a constant one at that. An inconvenience.

So when he was informed that someone, a new set of hands, had retrieved the lost shipment and taken out that particular pesky Blighter, well. Ned had to thank them in person.

With his men in tow to inspect and load the cargo, Ned greeted the stranger with a grin and tap of his hat. “You must be the capable man himself! The name’s Ned, pleasure is mine.” 

[beardedbarba]

[nedwynerd-blog]

Smacks the hat down so it settles over his eyes

Ned makes a little noise of surprise as the brim of his hat bumps his glasses, almost pushing them off entirely. “Hey!” He grumbles as he peers at the other through narrowed eyes. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What was that for?!”

[nedwynerd-blog]

[[ Okie-dokie! Like for a starter, my dudes! ]]

[nedwynerd-blog]

✘✘✘✘✘✘✘✘ >:)c

Headcanon Meme || Accepting

✘: Who do they detest the most? Do they typically avoid this person or antagonize them?

“Boss,” One of Ned’s employees--admittedly one of his favorites--approached his desk. “There’s, err, there’s a problem with one of the shipments.”

Ned’s eyes darted up from his paperwork and he furrowed his brow. He reached for his mug of coffee, almost lukewarm now with neglect, and brought it to his lips. “Well, spit it out, Addie, I don’t have all day.” He said gently but firmly. 

His underling hesitated momentarily but at Ned’s irritated sigh, she spoke. “The cargo, Mister Wynert. It was supposed to be our supply of coal--for the job--and we were expecting at least 10--”

“Yes, yes?” Ned waved a hand, twisting his wrist to encourage her to get to her point.

“Well, half of the crates, sir, didn’t have any coal.” She grimaced when Ned visibly stiffened. 

Oh...

“We got crates--full of ...feathers.”

...fuck.

“Black feathers.”

Ned inhaled deeply and nodded with a tight smile. “Thanks, I got the picture.” He cleared his throat as he leaned back in his seat, his expression melting into one of reassurance when he saw how pale she had gotten. “Just a setback, Addie.”

“But, Mister Wynert, the client--”

“I’m well aware,” He stood then to escort her out with a hand hovering just at her back. “Unfortunate, but not the end of the world. Just a temporary setback. Get the boys haulin’ the load from last night’s raid. I’ll take care of this.” It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t a lie but God damn, did this slow them down. They would have to wait for more coal. Making the client wait? Not good for business.

When he was finally alone, he clenched his fists and let out a low, short groan of frustration through gritted teeth. Ugh! He knew exactly who did this. Who else would have the time and energy to inconvenience him in this specific way? There was only one.

With quick strides, he yanked open the first drawer on his desk for his cigarettes and matches. He held a cigarette between his lips, trembling hands slipping when he first struck a match but steadied when he finally lit the damned thing. Leaning on his desk, he took a long drag to calm his nerves. 

Fucking Maxwell Roth.

[nedwynerd-blog]

🔅: What’s a place that holds special meaning to them? Why? :D

Headcanon Meme || Accepting 

Ned is not one for sentimentality, if he were honest. But a few places come to mind.

He had been dreaming of this day for a long time. London. It once seemed a far away dream but there he was, smack dab in the middle of it.  Upon Ned’s arrival to the city, he arrived at a certain inn by happenstance. It was unassuming. Nothing about it caught his eye. Perhaps that in itself was why he wanted to go in. 

When he arrived, it was when the sun was high in the sky. He was greeted simply. 

Good afternoon, sir. Thank you, sir. This way, sir.

After he settled, he set out to explore the city. Spare a coin, mister? He always had a coin to spare. And some words of advice for the ones who were trying some funny business. 

There were no eyes on him, unless it was what he intended. The streets were always abuzz. The wheels of the horse-drawn carriages rolling. The trains whistling off in the distance. Billowing smoke and fog. The city was alive. So much like New York.

Pardon me, sir. He is so kind! What a gentleman!

But so much more like home.

[nedwynerd-blog]

manamusesac‌:

Surprise nearly coated the Grand Master’s features, but instead he chose to hold that expression within. He nods as he was greeted, holding up a cup of his own tea as he was behind the desk. A moment later, he stood, placing it back on the desk. “Mr. Wynert,” Starrick greeted in return. “And thank you.” His eyes then looked down to the tea and then back to the other. “Tea, perhaps?” 

When the other didn’t shake his hand, Ned dropped his hand with an amiable smile. He clasped both hands behind his back, standing straight with his chin held high, confident. “Tea would be fantastic, thank you.” His eyes continued to wander the office decor, waiting. “I haven’t had the pleasure of trying your tea--all the way from India, as I recall. And if it’s the drink of your choice, well, it must be good.” 

[nedwynerd-blog]

iimpctus‌:

“𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄?” He hums in approval, rummaging through as he does. Jacob considers Boat raids easy compared to stealing wagons. Unlike the latter, there will be less civillians and innocents to deal with. He admits and genuinely regrets almost running over them when it comes to stealing crates from the warehouses.

Oh. Hello there, beautiful. Jacob grins as he delightfully picks up a new pistol. Better than what he got from Mister Green (which he appreciates somewhere in the bottom of his heart). “I’ll take this if you don’t mind.” And it comes in pairs. One for Evie too, he muses. “I’m sure our friendly neighborhood crime lord won’t need this. You’re pretty far off than us, Ned.”

“A job well done.” Ned answered. Grinning, he moved away from the crate to check the others. Some of his men had already arrived with a horse-drawn wagon. “Load ‘em up, boys!” He ordered with a smile and a sweep of his arm. His attention came back on the Assassin, a glint of light reflecting off the pistol just in the corner of his eye. 

With a hum and a smile, Ned gave a little bow of his head, his arms spread and his fingers curling and uncurling. “As promised, Frye. It’s yours.” And just the way Ned liked it--mutually beneficial. No looming favors or debts. Though his last comment caused him to laugh. An easy sound, it was neither in insult nor did it seem to be in humor. Instead, he grinned that elusive, noncommittal way that he did. Charming and secretive. “Once again, a pleasure doing business with you.”

[nedwynerd-blog]

wxyfxring‌:

“…Ned. Gracias, senor Ned,” Naomi replied, though she kept a firm arm around the small traveling case just hidden under her coat. “I do like to keep my effects on me - por favor, no offense. Do lead on.”

She adjusted her hat to make sure the sun didn’t strike her face. Better than having an incident.

Hoho. And she’s smart. “None taken. Can never be too careful, can you?” Although in Ned’s opinion, he got the sense that she could take care of herself. She knew what she wanted. She spoke with confidence. Assertive. Ned was always drawn to women of the unconventional sort. And more of a foreigner than he thought--that was Spanish, wasn’t it?

Quick to change the subject--lest it linger on an uncomfortable subject--he continued their way, keeping a polite but close distance to her as her guide. “Is this your first time in London, Miss...?” 

[nedwynerd-blog]

brashatted‌:

Jacob couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  Ned was really a hard one to figure out, and he prided himself on being able to figure people out pretty easily.  Then again as he the underbelly of the underbelly he expected no less than the elusive confidence that Ned seemed to exude.  His jacket whipped around him as he stepped fully out from where he had been and moved closer to Ned.  “Slow you down, oh yes, I’m most certainly the type.”

With a grin and a click of his tongue, Ned winked. Strolling down the streets of Southwark would be a little safer with the Assassin nearer to him anyway, he supposed. A little unwanted attention, maybe, but then again nothing that Jacob couldn’t handle. Ned was confident in the Assassin’s abilities. A gamble that hasn’t failed him yet.

“So,” He spoke with sharp tongue yet all the same amiably. “Another job then. You up for it?”

[imnotadogiswear]

Jacob: *screams*

Evie: *screams louder to establish dominance*

Henry: Should we do something?

Ned: No, I want to see who wins.

[thecommonchick]

date someone that makes you roll your eyes and smile right after

[starry-starters]

𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝓼𝔂𝓶𝓫𝓸𝓵  //  𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓻｡  ｡  ｡ ･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

+ 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒷𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝓈𝓎𝓂𝒷𝑜𝓁𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑜𝓃𝓊𝓈 𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓈.

👻  ———  scare my muse.

👽  ———  abduct my muse.

💩  ———  walk in on my muse using the bathroom.

😿  ———  find a stray kitten with my muse.

👶  ———  adopt a kid with my muse.

💍  ———  propose to my muse.

👍  ———  encourage my muse.

👎  ———  discourage my muse.

👉  ———  poke my muse.

👊  ———  punch my muse.

👅  ———  lick my muse.

💋  ———  kiss my muse.

👙  ———  go swimming with my muse.

☔️  ———  go for a walk in the rain with my muse.

🌈  ———  spot a rainbow with my muse.

[asociate]

do u ever just look at someone and get annoyed

[nedwynerd-blog]

iimpctus‌:

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐁 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒. Close enough for a thank you, he muses. Rolling his shoulders, he uses his hidden blade to open one of the crates. “Alright, Santa. What do you have for me?” The young assassin hopes for something sparkly. All that effort after all. A little more compensation wouldn’t hurt.

Explosives. Material. Weapons. Loot. The satisfaction usually came to him in the act of doing the job. Ned always took great pride in what he did but having someone else do it for him, well, that was just convenience. And this rather lucrative--in more than one way--work relationship he had with these devilishly talented twins was very, very convenient. 

“Really got to hand it to ya, Frye.” Ned whistled as he meticulously went through the crate. 

[dateaboysuggestions]

Date a boy who’s knuckles are bloody and bruised but his eyes are soft and make you feel warm inside.