maskormenacelogs | I'll be coming for you anyway

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I'll be coming for you anyway

WHO: Edward Kenway

captainpissoff and Maria Thorpe

givetheslip
WHERE: A park in Heropa
WHEN: 18/04
WHAT: A fullsized pirate and a fullsized Templar cross paths and foil a mugging... and discover they have something in common.

Edward hadn't had a bad day; the crew had hauled in a beast of a fish that was sold to a sushi restaurant for a tidy profit and with the catch coming in ahead of schedule, that left the crew with an extra day off, and he'd managed to track down the lass- well, woman in all actuality- who he'd pelted with an apple while he was a brat and managed to smooth things over there. All things considered, not a bad way to end a week.

It was all so mundane, he almost found himself wishing to be attacked at sea so he could do something that made him normal. Perhaps he needed to find a way to convince the Skipper they should visit Nassau, it'd be good to sail familiar waters and visit old sights.

He sat himself down on a park bench and kicked his legs out in front of him, pulling out an apple from his pocket and biting into it.

"Jaysus Kenway, when did you get so soft?" he muttered to himself.

It wasn't a particularly large apple, more of a light snack really, and when he was done with it Edward tossed it away over his shoulder without a second thought.

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[Maria isn't against living in cities—it's better than a nomadic existence in the middle of nowhere, and she's used to living in close quarters with her fellow Templars. But what she thinks of as a city and what cities have become in the future are two different things—everything's so big and bright and built-up.

After months, she's gotten used to it, but she still makes a habit of walking through parks when she's on her way somewhere. They aren't all that much closer to the time and place she remembers, but when the trees block her view of some of the buildings, it's close enough.

It's a nice enough part of her routine. An apple flying through the air to hit her head is not routine, however, or at least it shouldn't be.]

Hey! [And who's this fool?] Watch yourself, unless you'd like garbage tossed back at you!

[Bugger.

Edward spins around in the direction of the angry voice and immediately springs to his feet, hugely apologetic as he heads towards the unwitting victim of his littering and with the good grace to look incredibly sheepish.]

Shit, I'm sorry lass. I weren't thinking what I was doing and just went and lobbed it without a thought.

[Waiiiit a second.]

...your name's not Maria by any chance?

[It doesn't hurt, but Maria has to wonder of apple-tossing is some cultural practice of the future no one's told her about before. She'll be very cross if it is.]

Yes. [She crosses her arms over her chest.] Why? How do you know me?

[Actually, he does sound somewhat familiar...]

I'm Edward.

[Well. Now he looks really sheepish as he points at his chest to emphasise the fact.]

And that time was completely by accident, I promise.

[He glances down at the apple core by her feet.]

The, uh... the offer of a retaliatory shot with an apple core still applies.

[A look of recognition comes over her face, and her irritation lessens slightly—though she wasn't really about to hold a grudge over an apple core. She's not a child...anymore.]

Like I told you before, there's no need for that—though I may think again if it happens a third time.

[Actually, she'd use something worse than an apple core.]

You might want to think about not doing that kind of thing.

[When the frown begins to disperse, he lets his face slip into something more like a grin.]

I solemnly swear. Next time I have an apple it's going straight in the rubbish where it belongs.

Cross my heart.

[And he does so, with exaggerated solemnity.]

In that case, I'll forgive you again. But this is your last chance.

[She chuckles. However much of an insolent brat this man was as a child, he appears to have grown into a decent enough fellow.

Before she can say more, though, Maria has to shuffle to get out of the way of another park-goer who's passing by just a little too close, as if the path is too narrow—who suddenly yanks her bag right off her shoulder and runs.]

Hey!

Oi tosspot! That ain't yours!

[Even for a man of questionable moral fibre, Edward is not a complete and utter shitheel. So when his new acquaintance's bag gets snatched from her shoulder right in front of him, Edward feels compelled to do something about it, as he tells Maria:]

Don't worry lass, I'll get it back.

[And then he's off, taking after the thief at full pelt, hurdling the low railings of the park as the man takes off into the crowd and using the very best of his free-running abilities to make up for lost ground.]

But—

[Maria is about to tell him it's not necessary, or rather, show him it isn't chasing down the uppity little bastard herself, but a few moments of surprise that keeps her focus on Edward instead of the thief already put her at a disadvantage. And he's already going, so...she may as well let him.]

Oh for God's sake.

[She rolls her eyes and continues after the two of them, not bothering to run.]

[Edward trains his focus on his target, the man's form taking on a yellow glow as he identifies him in the crowd. As the thief disappears amidst the sea of people, he remains outlined in gold in Edward's enhanced Sight, making him an easy target to follow where others might not find that the case.

The thief takes a turn down an alley, but Edward knows this part of town, he knows where he can cut him off. Quickly, he launches himself at a parked car to gain height, then jumps to the facade of a building, using the windows and weatherboards as footholds to get him on the roof, then over and-

There's the shitbird, right below him.

Edward jumps down, knocking the thief to ground and smashing his fist into his target's nose.]

You shouldn't have run off like that sonny jim. It's bad manners.

[The thief, however, recovers quicker than expected and starts to struggle. Rolling his eyes, Edward grabs him by the shoulder and lets his hidden blade engage with a telltale 'snick' as he angles it towards the man's throat.]

How's about I teach you a few, eh?

[The two leave a trail of nonplussed citizens in their wake, making it easy for Maria to follow in their footsteps. The sound of angry words tells Maria where to round a corner, and she spots Edward and the craven thief just in time to see the blade come out.

She goes absolutely still just as the thief does, but for a very different reason. It doesn't take long to recover herself, though.]

Stop! [She trots forward and snatches her dropped bag from the ground.] Let him go. I have my things back.

[The edge of the blade is pressed against the thief's throat; Edward can feel the tremble in the man's neck as he tries to angle himself away from it to escape a slice across his windpipe. In all honesty, Edward's not about to kill him- Maria's got the bag- but the little shit stain needs to be taught a lesson.

Keeping his eyes glued to his target and not easing the pressure against the man's throat he snarls:]

Now I'm not going to see you snatching bags again, am I mate?

[Wide eyed, the thief shakes his head and trying to form the words to agree, trying desperately not to accidentally nick himself on the hidden blade.

Edward keeps his attention on him until the blade disappears with another 'snick' as he shoves the thief back onto the pavement.]

Good. Now piss off before I change my mind.

[He doesn't need to be told twice.

As the thief runs, Edward turns to Maria with a pleased smile on his face and brushes his hands off on his pants.]

Sorry about that, lass. Everything accounted for in there?

[Normally she'd approve of intimidating the thief in a way that leaves a strong impression, but thieves are common as mud and even if this one mends his ways, others will take his place.

But that's suddenly no longer a concern. Maria glares at the place on Edward's wrist where the hidden blade lives up to its name before meeting his eyes.]

Yes. There was very little in it to begin with. It's fine.

[There is a notable absence of Thank you.]

I could have handled him myself.

[Edward's been feeling very pleased with himself, more than sure that his act of gallantry will have made up for his misdemeanours with the apple cores. He's beaming infectiously, blue eyes twinkling merrily until he catches the distinctly frosty look Maria's giving his wrist.

Well. That's... certainly not the look of a grateful acquaintance. Time to try and salvage this.]

In that case I apologise. I thought doing you a favour might wipe the slate clean.

[He cheerfully shrugs his shoulders.]

I'll leave it to you next time.

Please do.

[She pauses for a moment, waiting for him to say something more. No? Well, she's not about to pretend she saw nothing.]

I'm not an idiot, you know. I saw that.

[She jabs a finger in the direction of his wrist.]

You're not as good at disguising yourself as I'd expect. Are you a slow learner?

Disguising myself?

[Edward is genuinely confused, and looks at the leather bracer wrapped around his forearm that conceals the blade beneath. So what if she saw it? Admittedly if he ever felt predisposed towards stabbing her with it he might have blown his element of surprise, but other than that why would she be so offended by it?

Looking very perplexed, he turns his attention back to her.]

Sorry love, I don't think I follow.

Don't give me that. I know what you are.

[He has to be playing a fool. Doesn't he? He's certainly better at playing the buffoon than Altaïr was. But then, Altaïr had no hope of convincing her that he wasn't what she knew him to be.]

Assassin.

[Well that's unexpected.

Edward fights the immediate urge to let his mouth hang open and instead gives her a very strange look as he tries to weigh up how best to reply.

How would she know anything about Assassins? He himself had only stumbled across them because he'd had the good fortune (debatably) to kill one before he'd had the chance to kill him.

There were two scenarios here; either Maria was an Assassin herself- doubtful, considering the venom she put behind the word- or she was the opposite of that, which might make her a Templar.

Neither are exactly appealing.]

Who, me?

[The lengthening silence before Edward replies is enough to damn him. It's only a few seconds, but each of those seconds is enough to confirm his identity in her mind.]

Yes, you. Unless you're going to tell me just anyone can wield a hidden blade.

[She holds a hand in the air, palm facing him.]

Actually, don't even try, I won't believe you. How many more of your brothers are here that I don't know about?

[He frowns as she continues to assert that he's an Assassin and he wonders just how exactly he can convince her otherwise.

The truth probably wouldn't hurt, right?]

I really think you've got the wrong end of the stick here. I'm no Assassin, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't thank you for thinking I am.

As for this-

[He makes a point not to mention the second one, which she doesn't seem to have noticed, and taps the bracer of the hidden blade she's already identified.]

-I got given this by a man in Havana if you must know.

[She blinks in surprise, startled by the sight of the second bracer—that's new. Of course, she's no expect on the equipment of Assassins, but having seen a hidden blade up close and personal, she's fairly confident that Altaïr had only used the one.

But still. Just because he's not exactly what she expected doesn't mean he's not lying his arse off.]

Oh, did he now? I doubt they're in the habit of giving their weapons away.

[She glares. No, he has to be one of them.]

I wouldn't know, I've never asked one about how they manage to get their mitts on them.

[Perhaps, if he ever gets to see Mary again, he might just do that. He suspects he wouldn't have a lot of luck from any of the others. Maybe Rhona... or Upton.

Actually that might be the easiest option if he gets him drunk enough.

But right now, he's got other concerns on his hands. Namely, why the prospect of his being an Assassin is so unforgivable to the woman in front of him. She couldn't actually be a Templar, could she? She seems too down to earth.]

But I reckon the Templar who gave it to me probably killed the Assassin it belonged to first.

[What? That makes no sense to her. One of her brothers killing an Assassin, yes, she can see that, and well done whoever did it. But it's not as if a hidden blade made a useful trophy, or even a gift.

Not in the time she's from, anyway.]

Explain yourself. Why would a Templar give you an Assassin's blade? Why would they have it in the first place?

Souvenirs, that's what he told me. What's it to you anyway? The way you're harping on I'd be inclined to think you're a Templar yourself, so if anything I'd ask you why a Templar'd have one.

[He could point out that he himself was a Templar for all of a day, but even now the idea of aligning himself with Torres and his ilk is galling to him and if he had to cast his lot with either side he's pretty sure he'd be more inclined to help out the Assassins.]

[Edward is rapidly losing any points he may have gained in the past. Maria plants her hands on her hips and glares at him even harder. Yes, that's possible.]

You'd be correct. Until recently I served as personal steward to the Grandmaster himself. And given then one of your kind murdered him and eight more of our allies, I think you should understand why I don't trust any man bearing an Assassin's blade.

[Chew on that, Welshman.]

[Edward's getting extremely pissed off with having to repeat himself.

You want a glare Maria? You'll get a glare.]

Oh for fuck's sake I'm not an Assassin! You want to know what I am? I'm a pirate. I'm my own master, I follow no man's creed but my own and when an Assassin tried to kill me after his sodding ship chased down the one I served on and sank it and drowned my kind, I cut the bastard down, took his clothes and went to Havana to get paid by one of your kind and what do I find? A bunch of power hungry tossers standing round a table talking about how they want absolute power over everything.

[He won't mention the Observatory. Not to a Templar who doesn't seem to know about it.]

So if you're going to get your breeches knotted over the Assassins, don't waste your breath on me. I'm not one of them but one of my mates is, and out of respect to him [well, her], I know whose side I'd come to in a fight.

[The sudden outburst, more of a tirade really, surprises Maria, and she nearly takes a step backward before catching herself and standing firm. She's not about to show weakness in front of this...Assassin, semi-Assassin, whatever he is. She still doesn't trust him, and much of what he's saying makes no sense to her.

But she can't just write him off as a liar now, for some reason. Even though it would be easier.]

Why would Templars be in Havana? Our interests lie in the Holy Land, not...wherever that is. And we're certainly not after absolute power.

[They're not. They're better than that..]

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I'll be coming for you anyway

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