Union Blues and Hidden Blades

Both a Soldier and an Assassin. Matilda O'Shea Independent Assassin's Creed OC from the American Civil War

[kniveslookbooks]

there’s nothing more satisfying than the sound of hitting someone solid in the fucking jaw.

[itsmissladyashley]

RUBY ROSE [twitter] icons 400x400

[finelendal-archive-deactivated2]

I want to make this known; it’s OKAY to flirt with my muse, it’s okay to say flirty things to them, yes, they may not react to it, they may not respond to it positively, but know as a mun I’m 100% OKAY with it. Especially if my muse is clearly attractive appearance wise, go a head, flirt with them, if my muse is your muse’s type, it’s okay to flirt, we don’t have to be shipping, we don’t ever have to ship to have you flirt with my muse; I WON’T think you’re pushing a ship on me either. But I just feel that some people are scared to have their muse be flirty to another because we a muns might take it the wrong way.

I’m not saying this goes for everyone, but I’m letting you know that it doesn’t make me uncomfortable and I’m fine with it.

[unionblueassassin-blog]

lynchthedove:

Just needed to move. Cal gets that. He got anxious easily when it came to staying still. Perhaps from a life of vagrancy, never being in one place for long enough to form attachments, he hadn’t really learned yet to keep himself still. Found himself up at odd hours, moving, running, training, staying active. Alert. And sometimes, the change of pace of even just being in a different room could help ease that.

He glanced back over his shoulder at her before shifting to lean his hip against the counter, letting her look at the array of options before them. “Coffee, if I can get the damn thing to work,” he said, then started tipping various bottles so he could see the labels. “Cheap beer, cheap beer…oh look. Cheap beer. Rum. Whiskey. And, because we’re feeling fancy, smirnoff.” 

He went back to the coffee pot and worked with it a bit more. A few more adjustments, a turn of a knob, and finally it started gurgling to life. He remembered his parents having one like this when he was a kid, and he wondered if it’d been that long since it’d been used. As the water started heating up, Cal poured some of the whiskey into the cup he was going to use, let it sit until he could mix it with the coffee.

“That was some damn impressive flying you did back there.” He paused, then let his lips quirk up on one side, the barest semblance of a laugh escaping him. “Thanks for getting my shirt, too.” 

Matty tilted her head slightly to see the bottles as Cal rattled off the choices. It was not much of a decision, and as soon as he had finished with it, the pilot picked up the whiskey and poured herself a glass also.

“That was nothing special,” she shrugged, mind going back to their escape. Flying the stolen helicopter had been easy once she got into it, getting to the damn thing in the first place had been the real trick. The exact opposite of her days in the Middle East. “Still, it felt great to be flying again,” the woman added after a pause, a definite upward curve to her lips.

She then out right grinned at the next part, taking a long sip from her glass. “No problem, Lynch.”

[ggallivanterr]

Ruby Rose spam cuz why not :)

[wnq-writers]

This is me. Take it or leave it. I am not going to change for anyone.

far-cry-from-normal 

[allsoundsasscreed]

“Leap of Faith” Assassin’s Creed Unity/Assassin’s Creed Syndicate SFX

[historicaltimes]

“Lots of Liquor” - New York City Blackout, July 13, 1977

via reddit

[greatwar-1914]

William B. Gould and his sons, 1917. In 1862 Gould escaped from slavery by rowing a boat 52 kilometers down the Cape Fear River and into the Atlantic, where he was picked up by, and subsequently joined, the Union navy. He kept an eloquent diary of his experiences and travels during and after the war. A half-century later, his six sons joined the military to fight in the Spanish-American War and World War One.

[abyssalfracture]

[abyssalfracture]

[katheoclark-deactivated20190819]

if i don’t message back, it’s not your fault. you are not bothering me.

[iuriis]

nottobecrossed:

kitkqtenderheart:

if i don’t message back it’s because

a) i didn’t see the message - This one’s pretty common. Notifications aren’t sent, I forget to check stuff, I close the message window before i see the message but after it “arrives”, I’m afk, etc. I’m not a busy person, I just miss a lot of messages.

b) i don’t know what to say - sometimes I just don’t know what to say. sorry.

c) i’m having a hard time processing that you are, in fact, actually messaging me - or i’m crying because excited but also nerves.

IT IS NOT BECAUSE

-you’re bothering me: if you were, i’d say so

-i don’t want to talk to you: i’m not a social person, i’m better at doing the askbox thing than PMs, but if you message me, i’ll message back eventually. unless you’re a porn bot or something.

-i’m ignoring you: i don’t try to ignore people- if i’m online (especially on Skype/Discord) I usually have sounds and notifications off. Skype itself is open in a different browser (download version crashes a lot), and Discord is usually minimized/closed if I have it on at all.

-anything to do with you: i honestly suck at the social/friend thing. just give it time.

feel free to PM me with anything. Questions, hugs, memes, just saying hi, I’ll talk about a lot of things if you want. If I’m not okay talking about/sharing, I’ll tell you.

I know I’m difficult to keep a conversation with. I’m sorry. Just please remember it’s not you.

and please don’t apologize for messaging me or not messaging me. sometimes I take a while to message back, sometimes i miss the message and sometimes you take a while or miss the message. we are human beings. don’t apologize for it.

also it’s “I did see the message and thought ‘I’ll reply to them later!’ and then forgot”…..sorry…..

[historicaltimes]

The first logo for the Pinkerton National Detective Agency. Founded by Allan Pinkerton in 1850, it was the first private detective agency in America. The term ‘private eye’ was inspired by the logo. 1850

via reddit

[vint-agge-xx]

In 1862, Robert Smalls stole a Confederate ship, gave it to the Union Army, freed slaves, and met President Abraham Lincoln. After the war, he bought a townhouse and became a Republican politician – a remarkable feat for a slave.

[uss-edsall]

The 26th Cavalry Regiment, consisting mostly of Philippine Scouts, was the last U.S. cavalry regiment to engage in horse-mounted warfare. When Troop G encountered Japanese forces at the village of Morong on 16 January 1942, Lieutenant Edwin P. Ramsey ordered the last cavalry charge in American history. They drove off the Japanese, despite the adversary having tanks.

Second picture is drawn by John Solie, a commission for the US Army.

[todaysdocument]

Happy 250th, John Quincy Adams! (7/11/1767 - 2/23/1848)

Hon. John Quincy Adams, President, U.S Series: Mathew Brady Photographs of Civil War-Era Personalities and Scenes, 1921 - 1940. Record Group 111: Records of the Office of the Chief Signal Officer, 1860 - 1985

John Quincy Adams, diplomat, senator and congressman from Massachusetts, Secretary of State, and sixth President of the United States, was born 250 years ago on July 11, 1767 to John and Abigail Adams.

A prominent abolitionist, Adams also argued the case of the imprisoned Africans from the schooner Amistad before the Supreme Court.

See also John Quincy Adams listed in U.S. Census records. 

[unionblueassassin-blog]

By Any Other Name - closed rp

[unionblueassassin-blog]

unionblueassassin:

thatxslyxfryexguy:

And then another figure came along, ushering one of the men off the table Matt was occupying.  He took up the seat with his arms stretched forward and a small shrug to pull back the sleeves off his hands and wrists, “Evening, Lads.” spoke the male.  He pulls his top hat off and sets it on the table with green-hazel eyes floating across those who sat around him, discreetly observing the shuffling male with a keen look.

He was well aware of the man occupying a seat in the back corner.  The Underworld business man had caught his eye, too, and for good reason.  “What’s the game?” questions Jacob, “And what’s the buy in?” he asks, ready to draw some funds from his person to throw onto the table.

One hand sweeps up to push his brown locks back as a couple try to tumble loose and hang forward over his features.  The waitress walks a pint over to him, receiving a few less savory hoots and howls from a couple of men likely associated with the target.  Jacob offers them a brief glance, but says nothing, tossing in the coin needed to be a part of the game once he was informed of its price.

“Deal me in.” he says confidently.

The newcomer’s arrival drew Matty’s attention back to the table as a momentary hush fell over it before one of the other players spoke up to answer his query. The Rooks were still fairly new, but the description of their leader was quickly becoming well known to those who paid attention. And this man fit it to a tee.

So he’s the one giving the Templars’ army of thugs the run around, she mused, not missing the look he shot her way. As the man’s drink was brought over and things settled back into their prior state at the table, Matty mentally went over what she had heard about the person behind London’s newest gang. There was not much.

She only knew that he went by the name of Frye, had a reputation as a brawler and was no more a native to London than herself. There was also mention of a sister, but little else to heard beyond that without some more focused investigation. And Matty already had a million other things to look into.

The American reflected upon all of this in under a minute, and once the new player threw in his money she began to the deal them all in.