❝ Pardon my rudeness. My name
is Alessandra, and I was told that
you would be able to help me repair
my blades. Ezio said that you are quite
familiar with the design. ❞
"Beth, how’re you feeling today? Has the confusion subsided?"
Beth didn't look at him; her eyes were fixated
on the opposite corner of the room. The vacant
look on her face appeared as though she was
listening to a conversation that he could not hear.
Then she suddenly seemed to emerge from the
trance that she was in.
❝ No... ❞
Betrayal; such a s t r o n g word, and a very serious
accusation to throw about. Such a charge required
sufficient proof, for God forbid if an innocent was lost
to the consequences of so severe a crime.
Machiavelli spared his student a contemplative glance
as she spoke her thoughts aloud, and for once, he
found that he simply couldn’t counter that ominous
statement. Too much had gone so horribly wrong to
make her words untrue, and yet…
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The look upon his face was easy to read; he was pondering her
words. They repeated in her mind as well. A traitor within the
the Brotherhood? She saw no other possibility; it would surely
explain so much, but how to uncover their identity? Already
an idea was forming within Alessandra’s mind. However, she
had to ensure that Niccolò was safe first.
Alessandra nodded in response to his request, or perhaps it
should have been taken as an order. Regardless, she would do
her best to obey it. She watched as the man carefully climbed
down, mindful of each and every step until her feet were
firmly planted upon the ground. Her eyes took in their
surroundings. Silently, she thanked the Gods that they were
close. She waved her hand, motioning for him to follow.
She knew these streets well, once running through them as a
young girl, carefree and so full of wonder. They were close,
so close that she could almost see the structure peaking out
through the darkness of night.
The structure was once very beautiful, and it still remained so
within Alessandra’s m e m o r y . Walking within the ruins she
could almost hear her mother calling to her or imagine her
long lost lover scaling to her balcony in the dead of night.
To the people of Venice, the Foscari family was gone, the only
reminder was the place they once lived; Niccolò would be safe
here for the time being. Quickly, she pointed for him to go within.
❝ Resta qui,❞ she said, hoping
that he would listen. ❝ I will
return when it is safe. ❞
Alessandra did not wait to hear the protest that was soon to
come; she turned and once again emerged into the empty
street. As soon as the guards spotted her, the woman took
off running, away from the ruins of her home, and away from
Niccolò.
“For who?”
James had the feeling she was talking about Abstergo, for she did look familiar, but wasn’t exactly sure. He had to assume she meant the Templars. How else would they know each other? James sighed, reaching up and pulling out his ear buds.
“If you think I work for… them still, I don’t.”
James was just going to the market for his job as a greeter and cashier, music blasting into his ears as he walked down the fairly empty street. That’s when he looked up, saw the gun, and froze.
"Okay, alright." He slowly raised his hands to show he wasn’t armed.
❝ Don't play dumb.
You work for them——
I remember you. ❞
Perhaps it was too brash, jumping to this conclusion, but
she remembered seeing him in that horrible place. She
remembered all their faces, each one a ghost from a
distant past that she wished she could just forget. Beth
didn't quite believe that he was completely unarmed,
though her posture eased ever so slightly.
On one of the rare occasions that Beth was in one place for
more than a few days, she needed to actually buy food. The
supermarket wasn't that far away from where she was staying,
though about a block away she encountered a familiar face.
Horror struck her, and Beth immediately grabbed for her gun.
❝ Stop! Don't come any closer. ❞
By then a collective shout had risen from within the
courtyard: the Borgia sympathizers had heard
everything. The Assassins hadn’t long before fresh
guards would be sent to combat them — unless,
of course, they fled the scene…
Niccolò found himself faltering in his movements.
Had circumstances been different, he would have
slipped from the roof with e a s e, student in his
sight and directed to the nearest shadows in
which to lurk until the threat had passed. From
there he would have instructed the fledgling in the
deadly tactics trademark to the Brotherhood,
monitored their methods as they took their
enemies by surprise, criticized them later
once the deed was done.
But that was a scenario in which the odds were in
their favor, in which victory was on their side and
assured, regardless of the minor detours they’d
have to take to achieve it.
Alas, the good Lady Fortune had other plans
tonight and hadn’t the time to bless their cause.
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Perhaps if Alessandra was another woman entirely,
she would have obeyed his wishes and fled from the
rooftop alone, waiting within the shadows until it was
safe. However she could not do such a thing. Once
before she had obeyed similar orders, meant to keep
her from harm, but in doing so she was hurt far worse.
She could certainly be called stubborn, that was for sure;
a scolding would likely come later, though the woman
did not mind the thought. If she was able to protect the
Mentore, and keep him alive, then she would endure it.
By now she could hear the guards coming their way now,
loud orders among the men to kill the targets—them.
Alessandra wished she would have brought the small
crossbow that she owned, but sadly she had left it at the
Tiber hideout, thinking that she would not require it on
this contract. How could she have been so foolish as to
believe that this would go so smoothly?
Then she began wondering how anyone had known of
them. This contract was reserved for those of high ranking
only, yet clearly someone knew of them, where they would
rest upon the rooftops to eavesdrop on the conversation,
that they would not be expecting an attack. Alessandra
carefully put together the pieces, and she did not like the
outcome that arose within her own mind.
❝ We were betrayed, ❞ she said, releasing
her thoughts for Niccolò to hear. The fire
grew even brighter. They would life through
this, and then she would find who did this
and take their life.
The woman pushed away those thoughts now, finding herself
back within the present time, where a moment’s hesitation
could mean both of their lives. In response to his request for them
to leave the rooftops and seek out the ground, Alessandra
nodded in acceptance. Rooftops or by ground, her destination
was the same.
Her childhood home was still there, charred remains of a once
beautiful house. It was yet to be rebuilt, and it remained as a
warning to any that may aid the Assassin Order. Alessandra
held it as a reminder that the Templars had to die, fore they
could do the same to others as they had done to her.
She motioned to the edge of the building then, where it
would not be so difficult for him to climb down, though not
entirely easy because of his wounded shoulder.
❝ Go, I will follow. ❞
If she went first then he would be vulnerable if one of the
guards came to the roof above them, which was a possibility
being that she could hear them scaling the building, loud
footsteps across the tiles would come soon enough. Soft
curls were thrown by the wind, though she looked on, eyes
alert for the oncoming danger.
So delicate her footsteps had been upon the tiled
roof that Niccolò had s c a r c e l y heard her
approach — ‘twas the mark of a skilled Assassin,
yet the young woman still had much to learn of
stealth.
And so it was in silent rebuke that Machiavelli
spared her a wayward glance; he understood the
urge to announce oneself before the Mentore, for
he’d been one to do so in the past during his own
training, but words spoken served as nothing
more than a warning to whomever happened to
be a close-range target. And given the d e n s e
amount of richly-dressed Borgia loyalists
gathered in the open courtyard below, one of
them was bound to be wary of his surroundings
for his comrades’ sakes, quick and eager to
pick up on any sound or shadow that seemed
out of the ordinary.
…Yet none of them seemed
concerned with the two figures
crouched at the ledge of a
nearby roof, watchful eyes
gazing down at them.
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Gentle chestnut eyes watched as the scene
played out within the dimly lit courtyard,
silhouettes only illuminated by the soft white
light of the moon passing through the black sky.
Alessandra carefully held her position, chest
barely even expanding to breathe, just as to
ensure that she heard each spoken word and
soft whisper that would fall from their lips.
They then began to speak in tones much louder
than they should have, and as Alessandra
listened she also thought of what they could be
speaking of. She pondered their words, these
strange plans that Cesare Borgia had within his
possession. Some may have been displeased
that they did not know much of Cesare and the
plots against him by their own Brotherhood,
though Alessandra was not concerned with such
things; she knew what she was allowed to know,
and she was quite alright with that.
The breeze tousled her hair and parts of her dress,
though still she remained crouched at the edge of
the rooftop. She strained to hear, tilting her head
ever so slightly. Yet the wind did not cease to strike
upon them, taking away any chance of their
eavesdropping to continue on from their current
position. Words passed through the air still, slipping
past the wind for her to hear…
❝…apple…❞
❝…soon…❞
❝…control…❞
The nerve endings upon her shoulder ignited, to
which she turned to look upon the Mentore. She
understood his actions perfectly and slowly nodded
in response, preparing her body as to follow him
with careful and precise movements. However,
Niccolò did not move quickly enough for what then
occurred. The air around them was then broken by
the sound of a deafening shot, breaking through the
darkness until the projectile finally met with
something solid.
Alessandra quickly drew in a breath, watching as the
man before her clutched in pain at his shoulder.
The moonlight reflected upon crimson blood, though
none belonged to her. He motioned for her to leave,
to flee from the scene, though she did not listen. By
now the wind had died, or perhaps the men were just
shouting; they now were aware that they were not
alone, and soon they would gain the attention of the
guards. With a wound such as that she imagined that
it would be difficult to defend oneself, and thus it
seemed that duty fell unto her. It became the mantra
within her mind, her own voice whispering over and
over again until it filled her entirely. Protect him. Her
body then reacted, ignoring her usual calm
demeanor—she grabbed his arm, the one opposite
his wound, and pulled for him to follow her.
Her actions were gentle, yet urgent and demanding.
She knew her way around Venice as she knew her
own hand and she knew now where to go, where he
could be safe. There was nowhere that he could
easily climb down, not without further injuring himself.
❝ Da questa parte. ❞
She leaped to another rooftop, turning back to motion
for him to follow, that she would not be leaving him.
Behind her there were loud footsteps upon the tiles,
a man shouting that he had found them. From the
bodice of her dress, Alessandra quickly drew a knife;
with precision she threw it straight into his chest,
watching for a moment as he fell backwards, toppling
towards the ground.
❝ Affrettatevi! ❞ she called to Niccolò,
regardless if others could hear her.
The Brotherhood could lose her and
easily survive, though for their leader
to fall… they all would begin to fall as
well. Alessandra could not allow that
to happen. There was a fire within her,
it burned ever so brightly, and it would
allow her to see this through.
Duncan looked at her and nodded slightly at her words. “So, if you feel safe with your first plan I don’t have any problems about do it that way we will not be too risky and lose brothers and sisters just trying to be more fine on our duty…”
The man let the jar on the table and followed this new contact thinking on the two plans the woman had to finish this new mission. The first one, like she said, was going to be the safer one and going to explore the place was the only thing he needed to confirm her theory. And agree with the first plan or suggest another strategy.
"I’m all yours, lead me there."
❝ Just this way then, Mr. Little. ❞ She then walked to the door,
holding it open for the man to step through as well. With a hand
she gestured down the road, for him to follow her. Denora then
took off walking, navigating her way through the street. She took
a turn down an alleyway, a much shorter way to reach their
destination.
❝ It is to my knowledge that the meeting
shall take place just here, ❞ she said,
pointing to a small house just across
from where they were standing.
name: ashli
age: 22
birthday: april 13th
zodiac: aries yo
single or taken: pizza
height: 5’2”
eye color: blue
middle name: mari
favorite color: grey and blue
lucky number: thirteen
SPECIFICS/DETAILS:
hogwarts house: ravenclaw
favorite fictional character: too many...
favorite television show: too many.......
favorite season: winter
describe yourself in a few words: lame
meaning of your name: "from the ash tree" ?????
ultimate otp: eveland. i can't even explain what it is so ask sylvana.
what do you plan to/do for a living: graphic designer. hopefully. or a writer of some sort.
starbucks order: caramel frap.
THIS OR THAT:
introvert or extrovert: introvert
dawn or dusk: dusk
righty or lefty: right
coffee or tea: tea all the way
rain or shine: love the rain
reading or writing: both!
As serious as the situation was he couldn't help but mock the woman before him, reaching to grasp the other side of his body in mock pain. "Yes, naturally," he drawled sarcastically before he leapt again, this time his blade drawing blood on her arm in an overpowering strike.
The wound stung, though she pushed it away as best
she could. Adrenaline helped to dull the pain further. She
had suffered worse before and probably would do so
again. A laugh escaped her lips, and she pulled away one
of her blades before launching it towards him. Denora
did not bother to see if she struck him anywhere important,
she had already turned and began climbing up the side
of the building. As she reached the roof, she looked down,
a smirk upon her face, wondering if he would soon follow.
❝ I do hate to cut this short, but I must go meet
with your son and inform him of my success. ❞
gummygunk
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