#jonathan barnet

[mark-read-the-pirate]

What a b*tch 🙄 literally ruined my life

[oryanwadoo]

WADOO!!NEWS: Arsenal table N752.5m for Eaglets captain

WADOO!!NEWS: Arsenal table N752.5m for Eaglets captain

English Premier League club Arsenal have reignited their interest in Nigeria Under 17 international Kelechi Nwakali.

Jonathan Barnet’s Stellar Group has informed Diamond Academy Umuahia that the Gunners are ready to meet the central midfielder’s 3.5 million euros (N752.5m) asking price.

However, it is understood that Arsenal will only offer the Golden Eaglets star a contract should he impress…

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[lordjohnviking]

Assassins Creed Black Flag: Story of Captain Ivan Wolfe Fan Fic Original Character

Chapter 1

The Pale Night

Young Ivan ran swiftly along the rocks near the shores. His small legs carrying him as fast as they were able to carry him, while the wind blew through his dark onyx hair. His laughter squeaked out of his tiny mouth as his father chased behind him.

“We bring order against the bad men,” his father would say to him every night. Ivan didn’t fully understand what the Templar Order was, but his father always told him stories of its importance to him after supper. He would lift little Ivan onto his knee and talk of the great Templar leaders of old, Rodrigo Borgia, Cesare Borgia, Al Mualim, and the Turkish civil war in Constantinople. With each story, his father would tell how each leader came so close to bringing freedom to the people of their nation. But each time the dreaded Assassin Order always stopped them. Ivan was told to fear and hate the Assassin Order.

“Why do we fight them, my son?” Royce would ask him before he would tuck him safely into bed.

“Because they are the harbingers of chaos” Ivan would reply, almost as a reflex for saying it so many times.

Ivan ran faster as he could, but felt the strong arms of his father grab him beneath the arms and lift him into the air. They both laughed as Ivan squirmed to try and get free of his grip.

“I have caught you now! And for that, I shall eat you for dinner!” his father teased as he mocked the voice of an ogre which all parents told their children to frighten them.

Ivan protested and squirmed more, laughing uncontrollably. This was fun Ivan knew it was fun. His father was playing with him he knew that. There were no ogres, giants, werewolves, or sea serpents that would take him away.

The sun set slowly over the rise with hues of red purple and yellow. The gulls that flew over the darkened waters began to fly back home to their nests with meals of fish and clams. Sara, Ivan’s mother, had finished placing the last plate of food on their table. It was Royce’s commendation meal. Baked bread, cheese, salted pork with seared skin, and fish freshly caught and burnt over the fire. It was a marvelous meal to one who would see it. Royce was now Templar Commander, while yesterday and the decade before he was a Templar Lieutenant. He had been since Sara had given birth to Ivan. Sara herself was an informant to the Templar, Jack Harringsworth of London. That mean she practically answered to the King’s second man.

“This is delicious darling! I could not have asked for a better cook, nor a better wife.” Sara smiled, a faint blush of pink on her flawless cheeks as Royce leaned in to kiss her upon her lips. Ivan knew well to look away and give them privacy, he learned that well in his learnings. 

“Dear, not in front of the boy. He doesn’t wish to see such things.” Sara said with a slight giggle as she held him back.

“Oh one kiss wouldn’t hurt the boy’s innocence.” Royce protested as he gave her a kiss anyway. She kissed him back equally before pulling away. They loved each other more than the Order itself.

Royce looked over at Ivan and his empty plate. He wiped his mouth with his navy blue dressed napkin and smiled. “Okay, son. It is time to put that weary soldier to sleep”

“Awww, but father!” Ivan said as he stood down from his chair with a pout on his lips. “May I stay awake just a little more? I promise I won’t be exhausted on the morrow”

“No son, it’s time for your rest. You wouldn’t want the Assassins to sneak in and steal you away would you?”

“Royce!” Sara said with an appalled look. She disliked Royce frightening her little boy with such things. Ivan looked at his father petrified and ran to him, hugging his waist.

“Don’t let them take me, father! I don’t want to be sacrificed and tossed into the sea like Uncle Chapman!” Ivan said with terror trembling in his throat.

Royce scooped up his boy into his arms and carried him up the long grand staircase of their home. He walked passed marble walls with paintings of relatives long passed. The carpet was made of the sigil colors of their house, Black onyx silk with navy blue shards splitting into the sides. The great white wolf growling menacingly up at them in the center, stitched into the black silk with careful precision.

The Templar house of Wolfe was a rich house thanks to the King of England. He had provided them coin and a mansion overlooking London for their service into the military, unknowing they worked for the Templars instead. Their sign was the black flag with navy shards and a growling fierce white wolf with sapphire eyes in the center. Ivan’s father always said it resembled their courage and strength against any odd.

Royce tucked his son into his bed, pulling the fur-pelted coverings over his body. He sat on the side of the bed, lighting a nearby candle with some flint. He gazed down at his son and stroked his soft hair gently with his large hand.

“Why do we fight them my son?” Royce said with a hint of demand in his tone.

Ivan yawned softly, snuggling close into the covers of his bed. “Because they are the harbingers of chaos” His words were soft and his eyes closed slowly into dark sleep. His father kissed his forehead gently, whispering in his ear.

“May the father of understanding guide you, Ivan my son”

With that, he stood up, taking the candle in his hand and left the room. He closed the wooden ebony doors behind him, leaving Ivan to his dreams. Wind blew softly from the open window, owls hooting soft gentle words at one another in trees off in the distance. The stars shined down on the city, guarding over the resting mortals below. Time went on, and then it stopped.

  Red danced like a drunk and mad warrior, frothing too and fro against the pillars. Shrieks in the darkness, distancing themselves as they fled away. The fires spread more with each passing second. Ivan awoke, coughing as the thick suffocating smoke filled his room. His forehead was beaded with sweat, and his under garments stuck to his skin as he moved.

“Father?!” Ivan cried out with uncertainty. He saw the flames dancing in the hallway, and heard a sound that he couldn’t make out at first. Window glass being smashed? Wood hitting wood? No metal on metal! Ivan raced down the hall to the staircase. There he saw his mother laying on the floor in her night gown. Her face no longer silky and white, but wet and red. Her arms were stretched in ways they weren’t meant to while her legs were crumbled and bent. A crimson pool of flesh seeped into her dress and onto her skin. Ivan grew pale, tears stung at his eyes. He forced himself to look away but only to see something even more horrifying. His father’s eyes met his, but they were different. They were lifeless, filled with void and loss. Then he began to realize where the body and neck should have met, there was now empty air. His neck looked as if it was grinded and sawed. Flesh and meat dripped onto the cold marble floor. He wiped the tears away and fell to his knees. Someone moved across the floor behind him, swiftly and near silently. Ivan turned around just to see the silver blade spring out from brown leather around a wrist. The blade caught him center of his pupil. He felt the gel-casing mold off onto the blade as liquid eyeball poured out his socket. The pain was too much to scream. He fell back as blood began to flood his right eye socket and down his face. He slapped his hand over it to stop, finally finding the will to scream in agony all that his lungs would let.

He looked up in terror as the large figure hovered above him. It was dressed in shabby yet ornament white robes. Its hood beaked down, covering the face, but Ivan recognized the garments of the Assassin instantly. The Assassin looked down at him for a moment, unable to decide if the man was going to kill him or not. The Assassin’s face was unreadable, his emotion was blank, and his eyes peered out of the shadow its hood made like fireflies in blackness. Seconds, which felt like hours passed slowly, but finally the Assassin lowered his head and sped out of the door.

The fire roared angrily for more blood and dead to feast upon as the old home groaned from weakened timbers and supports. Ivan rolled down the stairs, grunting as each marble edge found his skin on impact. Blood leaked between his fingers from where his right eye once was. He winced as the salt of tears mixed with tender flesh as he crawled in agony towards the outside. His mother was gone, his father was gone, and the Assassins had taken them away from him.

“Why do we fight them?” His father’s voice echoed over and over in his mind.

“We love you, Ivan. Our sweet sweet boy” His mother joined in.

“Why do we fight them? We love you, Ivan. Why do we fight we love you Ivan them.”

Ivan clutched at dirt and grass with his free hand. His sobs pierced the silence that now lay around him. He heard his home crash down on everything he knew; his parents, his childhood, his life. He held his socket tighter, rolling over in the grass and began to mourn.