REPOSER EN PAIX

[JerinLee]

Upon approaching the higher-ups gathered outside the Grand Master's room, Julie became acutely aware of the obvious difference in rank and respectability between herself and the other Assassins. Not only were they greater in wardrobe and stature, but there seemed to be some impressive aura of professionalism radiating from the group. Julie wanted that and so much more. She longed for achievement, fulfillment, and purpose, and she didn't see how she would begin to accomplish anything without proper guidance. When the woman named Angèle Rocher agreed to be her guide, Julie felt relief and the undeniable excitement of adventure, as if having this opportunity to learn was also her opportunity to truly see the world. It took much less than her twenty years to learn that the world wasn't always a beautiful place, but Julie had hope that she could help make it one.

Angèle and Julie moved a few paces away from the conglomerate outside the Grand Master's door.

"I was your age when I first came to the Assassins – or rather, when they came to me – two years ago," said the older woman before her mind seemed to temporarily trail off into memory. Julie tried to contain her surprise, but her eyes widened at the news. Two years ago? It took only two years for this woman to earn the robes? To say Julie was impressed would be a major understatement. How old was this Rocher woman, anyway? She still seemed to glow with youth. She couldn't be much older than Julie herself, judging by the looks of her. For the sake of propriety Julie abstained from asking her mentor any personal questions.

Julie continued to listen to Angèle speak. Julie observed Angèle's eloquence and practiced manner, products of education and wealth, and wondered if Angèle was of noble descent. Julie had a mixed reaction to this speculation. On the one hand, she couldn't afford to pass up the education this woman could offer her as a mentor. On the other, her father's loathing remarks about the rich and entitled echoed through her head as if he were still alive. Conversely, Julie could so clearly imagine her mother, in her all-loving delicacy, preaching Judge not, lest you be judged. Julie decided to follow her mother's teachings for the sake of expediency, yet Julie couldn't help but feel lied to; how could a rich woman be an Assassin? That one of the wealthy could be a defender of the people was an abstract idea to the young recruit. Julie hoped she would gain a better understanding of Angèle through their lessons.

“I’m sure you have the potential to learn quickly if given the proper guidance and training. I believe that I could provide that. I will be your mentor, if that is acceptable to you. I am Angèle Rocher, and it is quite a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Julie bowed her head respectfully and noticed that her cowl had fallen to her shoulders. "The pleasure's mine, Rocher. Thank you for agreeing to mentor me," she said, her lips slanting into a lopsided smile. "I'm Julie. My surname is unimportant, I'm just the daughter of a humble farmer."

There were so many things Julie wanted to say after that. She wanted to ask about the Assassins, about her role, about the Pieces of Eden; she wanted to know everything. She couldn't recall the last time she was buzzing with excitement like this. But she stayed quiet, folding her hands behind her back and waiting for her new mentor to direct the conversation.

[Red Raven Witch]

"I've never gone out at night, always felt like sleep was important. Then again, the moon can watch over me better if I'm out and about." Saying that Ave remembered what her mother use to tell her as she tucked her and the two boys into bed. Kissing them gently she promised them that they would have sweet dreams, and that while she was asleep the moon would watch over them. Ave always found this to be a magical thing, to think that the moon- such an important thing- was looking after little her. Thinking of the moon, and how it watched her grow and sleep, she wondered why she hadn't spent more time out at night.

Never the less, it wasn't to late to start, and with her mentor now allowing her to come along on this moonlight stalk she was rather pleased. Smiling at him as she climbed upon the railing she looked at him; hands clasped behind her back as she stood there with him.
Her outfit wasn't as secretive as his, no fancy robes or hood to hide her face, just a plain light dress- a size or two too big for her- with a belt around her waist which held a few little throwing knives. Probably not the best place for her weapons in an emergency, but then again picking fights was not what she liked to do. Being rather small for her age, light and quick, she was much better at sneaking and hiding- so far running around on the roof tops at night seemed like a good plan, for she knew she could do at least a decent job.

"Of course, up and ready to go." Ave was determined to keep up with him. A small laugh to herself, quiet and hidden behind her hand, she smiled again for she felt she had wonderful luck, he seemed very nice so far.

[Vena Sera IV]

"Well then, as they say in France, mon apprenti, nous partons!" Alastair declared, a faint smirk visible in the growing moonlight. He was proud to see his apprentice showed little hesitation, operating during the dark hours were tricky at best, one could easily miss something and fall or incorrectly judge a jump. He'd make sure not to put anything difficult on Ave's plate tonight, a simple waltz through the city would do.

"Be sure to keep close to me, and should you lose sight simply whistle and I shall appear." Winking playfully he meandered over to the ledge of the roof, waving back to his apprentice before simply falling forward, a feat he was quite comfortable with. Knowing the area helped as well, a few feet into his drop he grabbed hold of a banner, chuckling as he swung down and landed on the stone roads near noiselessly. It wasn't much of a drop, easily done perhaps even without the catch, if one knew how to land properly.

While he waited for Ave to join him he allowed his eyes to wander, taking in the scene around him with intense focus. While he tended to act relaxed and uninterested quite often in truth he was very diligent, especially at night. One could get too bold, thinking that no one could see them in the darkness. Plenty of torches and lights illuminated the roads, making it easy to be spotted moving through the shadows. He'd show her how best to avoid them, sometimes going through a light was unavoidable. He would make certain nothing went wrong on his apprentice's first night out, otherwise it'd be an ugly first lesson. Notably, before making his leap he'd noticed Ave's attire, she didn't quite seem dressed for combat. If a fight broke out he'd likely be the sole combatant on their end. He wouldn't admit it to her, but Alastair doubted his apprentice's combat prowess. Perhaps some weapons training in the morning would dismiss any concerns.

His attention was diverted as he listened in on the chatter of lingering townsfolk, many of whom were complaining about recent conditions. That was something that was plentiful, no one seemed pleased with the current affairs of things. Well, except Templars perhaps, the way things were working out certainly went with their agenda. It made him sick, thinking they'd willingly cause this sort of chaos to see their goals fulfilled, innocents had no part in this war of theirs. An interesting bit of conversation had caught his attention though, according to one bystander. A few groups of guards had seemed to be going from home to home take supplies, claiming that it was for the war effort. Sounded like taking advantage of already beaten civilians.

Those blokes may just get a visit from the Assassin's tonight...

[kingkonrad]

"You know more than I expect, oui? Well, I hope you're the same with killing- because that's when the business of our duty begins to become sticky. And is what you will come to embrace, do and execute with pinprick precision." Antoine said, already running as he led the way over the tiled rooftops. He lept over a 3ft chasm, dropping onto a flat section of roof yet maintaining his pace as he landed with a neat roll. His speed was remarkable- even for the kit he wore, he knew that he had pace on his side, and he could get himself from point A to point B. He stuck to the left of the upturned V that made up the rooftops- most tiled a neat red, yet it had faded and was probably something weather had a chance to wear away. Antoine kept moving anyway, aware that Alekzander was on his rear, and kept moving. Toward the edge. The alleyway was much wider than the small chasm they had to jump over earlier, and it was here that Antoine reminded anyone who watched- anyone who was awake, why they were feared. Because they did stuff like this. Antoine ran off the edge, and for a matter of a second, was suspended in the air, moving across the gap and the level of the roofop dropping by about a single storey. The jump would have been impossible had it have been at the same level- yet Antoine knew that to most, it would have been impossible anyway. He had his ways.

Antoine hit hard, and rolled, using the momentum to at least negate the impact he had made from the jump down. Antoine kept moving as he got up, his breath now sucking in oxygen rapidly, and at full kick. He ran along the flat roof- past washing lines, outbuildings on the rooftop, and so on. He kept moving, aware that they were coming closer and closer. The roof went up, as the entire building that Antoine was on became three storey again- Antoine reacting, as he used a small wooden crate and the wall- all whilst running- to prop himself and leap onto the next tier of roof. Still running, Antoine looked back for a moment, and kept up the pace, aware that this was the way they did things and his method of transportation across the rooftops- rather than running through the street, where mobs, rogue soldiers, or even Templar-backed patrols could be lurking. This was the best option- and even though Antoine knew he couldn't outrun a musket shot, he could get out of sight, and get out of area using tunnels, or the rooftops like now. Antoine stopped, as the roof ended- clambering up another level onto a small overlook that was at the end of the building. Antoine stood up, and looked out on the streets below- they were looking over Paris, and at the top of the hill of Montmatre, the run getting them to this place- and Antoine already catching a bonfire in the street- with about 20 individuals around it. He looked over Paris, and then back at Alekzander, nodding to him.

"Up here, Alekzander. If you ever wondered what Paris looked like, this is probably among the best few places- and that Church over there." Antoine said, pointing to the small yet neatly placed church- a tower probably making it the highest point in Paris- due to the fact that Montmatre itself was on a hill, and overlooked the rest of the city whilst within it.
"There they are. I count roughly 15 of them, perhaps 20. A distraction would be perfect. I don't want to spill too much blood- I think I can read from even here who's in charge of rallying them up. They definitely look like the anarchists we're looking for. Two women...merde. Alekzander, we'll meet at the church tower, and I'll explain what happens from there. Drop down to the streets, and stay inconspicious for a while you're down there. Stay out of sight- use the alleyways to flank them, since they're occupying the square- this road is right in the viewpoint, if you go down it. I'll watch from above- and fire off a shot from my pistol- which should scare the shit out of them. We see who runs, who fights, and we kill those who stay- aware of the fact that they're probably tagging along, while the leaders would stay with a fighting squad. Do not question me- if they carry on, they will no doubt rape the two. I can read it from here. We have hardly time to waste, mon ami. Wait for the shot, then move in, and kill anything that stands to kill you. Do not give any relent- I shall try and do my best to keep you out of the worst, but if you counter attack, block and let them screw themselves up first, you can take opportunity and kill. Use your skill- if you see any with muskets, use cover, and stay down, until they've fired and you can take them while they're exposed." Antoine said, looking over at him, as he stood by him.
"Well then. Good luck, Alekzander. I'm sure you'll do me proud." Antoine said, chuckling afterward, as he looked over at it. He was surprised that he knew roughly what he was doing- he didn't look like a person who was born into this life, yet seemed to know of the ways of the world in a way that his eyes showed it. A thief, perhaps. Antoine knew that thieves were the only equivalent to what Antoine's running involved, along with a few other Assassins who had spent enough time doing it to know that as well. Antoine looked over at him one last time, and then made a run- throwing himself onto a rope that was neatly placed as a zip line from this roof- across to the buildings on the other side. Antoine hung from underneath- his gloves not giving too much friction as he slid down the rope- at least not fibrous, giving him a good movement across the street and allowing him to simply drop. He had heard of hook blades, but his leather gloves were enough for the task- and pieces of equipment like that were becoming obsolete. His sabre, his flintlock, and two hidden blades, were all the tools he needed, apart from his own experience and body to carry it out. He began moving across the rooftops- a little slower to conserve energy, as he headed to position overlooking the square from a rooftop. That was when he would make his entrance, and do what he needed.

[Jivusa]

Alekzander kept up with Antoine the whole time. He listened to what Antoine said and gave a slight nod before Antoine left. Alekzander lept from the roof, not making a loud enough thud for anyone to notice. He checked his belt for his tools/weapons, and everything was indeed there. Before he started, he had a large scarf, and he wrapped it around his face and head, to simulate a hood and facial cover. A smart move, the anarchists can't remember his face. He fastened it to where it wouldn't fall off with a cloth tying knot he had learned. He made his dagger easier to reach along with his tomahawk, both of which he would use in the coming battle. He then winded along corners until he came to an open alley. He found a place to hide from patrols until Antoine gave the shot, then he would rush through the anarchists like nothing.

As he waited in the dark, secluded area, thoughts rushed in his head. All of the Assassins he saw in the Grandmaster's room, most of which were new. He knew he wasn't a full fledged Assassin yet, and had a ceremony due. He then thought back to the ones who took him in; the thieves. He remembered how they were the closest he had to a family, and he would have died on the streets had it not been for them. But they were gone now, and he has the Brotherhood. Yet still, he will always remember the Parisian Thieves Guild, now exterminated. He would always remember them, and have a deep respect for the commons of the street, himself being one.

He then quickly put that aside as some patrolling anarchists started guarding right outside of his hiding place. Alekzander readied his weapons, knowing the shot would come any second.

[TheFrontLine]

Lukas Buchalter - Bruderschaft

"When you're done cleaning yourself, meet me in the accommodation." Lukas awkwardly nodded in response as Raphaël turned his back and made in the opposite direction.

One of the assigned guards promptly pushed his way through the chattering gathering, introduced himself with a handshake, with which Lukas met once again with a false smile, then gestured with a quick swing of the arm to follow. Lukas, understanding, paced behind the man, who led him to another with a bundle of white clothing in his arms adjacent an open rickety wooden door. The two greeted one another with barely a sliver of emotion shown in either expression or tone. The heap of loose sleepwear exchanged hands with a forceful push, and Lukas's satchel was slung off his sore shoulder without so much as a word.

"Déshabille." Lukas, about to enter the bath, turned his head towards the gruff voice of the guard, then asked, "Que?" "Undress," he repeated, clearer, but unnecessarily louder. Lukas furled his brow, at first puzzled and surprised, then momentarily complied.

He struggled with the removal of his clothing, as the cloth had hardened from the cold and mud of the past few days, but eventually managed to free himself from its grips, only to meet the muffled chuckles of his guardians. As he reached his undergarments, Lukas glared at the two holding his filthy rags. One pointed towards the open door, then proceeded to walk down the hall with the bundle as the other stayed. Lukas entered with a relieved sigh, sliding his rigid fingers through his dirt-caked, oily hair. The murky water was already running through a coarse circular crevice in the dimly-lit room, crashing upon the bare stone floor. With the door closed, but a remaining feeling of shyness, Lukas hesitantly fully unclothed, then walked under the long-awaited fountain of youth, allowing it to douse the vulgar filth from his worn body, unmasking his young frame.

Shivering as the flow suddenly stopped flowing, Lukas grasped at his undergarments, using them to roughly dry himself. Within minutes, he was out of the bath, all dressed, and into the arms of his impatient guardians, who directly led him to his room. As they neared, Lukas glanced at Raphaël, his third guard, then entered his dark cage.

[AngelKitten]

Angèle continued to watch Julie with a calculating look, beginning to lay out a plan for Julie’s apprenticeship in her mind. She would have to test the younger woman’s skill first somehow, in order to get a sense of where they could begin with her training. As for missions, she would speak to the Grandmaster at some point regarding things that needed to be taken care of in the area. Barring that, the Frenchwoman was certain that a simple trip through the streets would place them in the vicinity of a hapless citizen in need of aid. That sort of thing was rampant in these times, a thought which made Angèle just as angry as it did in her youth. At least now she was in a better position to do something about the issue, and training another young Assassin to better support their cause was a promising start.

Angèle nodded approvingly as Julie accepted, warmth in her eyes as she offered, “You may call me Angèle. In fact, I would prefer it. Even though I will be your mentor until you are inducted as a full-fledged Assassin, I believe that I could have something to learn from you as well. Each individual experiences the world differently, and by drawing on those varied perspectives one can shape their thinking in a hopefully better manner. Of course, there will be many opinions that we do not agree with. However, it is worth entertaining foreign notions instead of immediately dismissing them, and deciding for yourself if you will accept the thought or not.”

Julie’s unassuming introduction caused Angèle to shake her head slightly, almost as if it was a reflexive action. She paused for a moment, wondering how best to phrase her beliefs. “One’s identity is not made unimportant by one’s status in society. Class is a social construct, determined by such manmade concepts as money and property. Do you see the flaw in such a system? It has been created by man, and it will be destroyed by man.” The woman’s voice was quiet and even, but it was clear that this was a matter that struck a chord deep within. She met Julie’s gaze steadily with clear gold-hazel eyes and continued: “Your merit is not based upon your monetary value. It is neither raised nor lowered by the clothes on your back or the roof over your head. Your worth is determined by your deeds and accomplishments, and the value of your actions is not for any one person to decide. Do not rush to belittle yourself. While it is possible to overestimate oneself, I do not believe you are at all nearing that threshold.” She smiled. “I hope you will remember this in future.”

Having said her piece, Angèle’s thoughts went once again to the question of Julie’s instruction, namely what sort they would undertake first. She could pose an idea as per custom, of course, but she was curious as to what suggestions her new apprentice might have. She could only guess at what the younger woman was thinking and feeling at the moment – excitement, perhaps, and anticipation. That is what Angèle remembered most strongly about being a new recruit herself. With this in mind, she addressed her student. “I have some thoughts regarding your training, but first I would like to know your expectations of me as your mentor. What do you, personally, hope to gain from this? Of course you are here because you wish to serve la Fraternité to the best of your ability, but I mean beyond that. I understand that this could be a more personal matter, and you may take some time to reflect on your answer. Perhaps you can share your thoughts once we have spent some time together, no?” The purpose of this question was to encourage Julie to seek understanding by looking within. This would ideally ensure loyalty and a true commitment to the cause. Improvement of physical capability, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely. “To speak of less abstract matters, what do you propose we start with at this moment?”

At some point Angèle had become aware of someone approaching in her peripheral view, but she gave Julie her full attention while she spoke to her. Finally, she turned to the man she knew to be Raska, an amused smile touching her lips as she responded in kind to his greeting. She had encountered him on occasion, but had had no opportunity for conversation until now. From her brief observations, he seemed to possess more of a solitary nature, much like herself, and spent much of his time ensconced in the library. This was quite impressive in itself, in her opinion. His behaviour now only served to improve his image in her eyes, but experience in her previous line of work caused Angèle to take such comments with a grain of salt. Nevertheless she accepted his compliments with a gracious nod. “You honor me with your words, Monsieur Raska, if I may address you with such familiarity,” she replied smoothly. Well, this was interesting. She allowed a moment to pass before continuing with a teasing smile. “Mm… What would you have me do, mon cher?”

[Red Raven Witch]

Like the girl that she was, Ave couldn't help but grin a bit timidly when he winked at her- though realizing that she had been smiling she frowned at herself. With a little slap on the back of her hand as a sort of punishment to herself for doing such a silly thing she followed after her mentor quickly and quietly.
Seeing as how he was much taller than she was the fall should have looked scary, for if she grabbed hold of the banner like he had she would need to jump father, yet it didn't faze her one bit. Leaping down without a second thought she mimicked his movements, or at least what she could manage to do at this point, in the end landing softly and almost as soundlessly as he had.

Ave kept close to her mentor, at least close enough to where she felt she wouldn't lose him if he ran off in a hurry without telling her- something her father and second eldest brother did often when she grew up. The fact of being on the ground at night with little to protect herself with didn't make her feel at ease, but that hardly showed for she was to busy smiling and giving Alastair a look that asked 'What now?'
In the distance she could hear men, and while listening to them she wondered if she was going to avoid them or would her mentor want to attack? It was always different for the person, but Ave was a girl who rather not pick fights when it could be helped, or at least she would like to know what she was up against first.

[Vena Sera IV]

Alastair assumed a cheeky grin, waving a hand dismissively when he saw Ave glance at the men. They were workers and commonfolk by the looks of it, hardly anything to draw much interest. With a soft chuckle he began to simply walk down the street, making sure his apprentice was close behind following as he kept a short stride for the shorter woman's sake. The moon was providing an ample source of light even for until streets, if one paid close enough attention their shilouettes would be easily discernable, though as to what they were would be a mystery still. That fact in of itself was something he loved, it caused uneasiness and fear in those he pursued. A bit of a trickster perhaps, he took the job seriously but revelled in making his foes uneasy. After all, they caused anguish on a regular basis, it only seemed fitting to him that in their final moments they feel the same.

"Now listen lass, here's my plan for the night..." He spoke in a soft tone, low enough to not be overheard by anyone standing by, the few who were still out and about. "Those blokes we saw, they mentioned Templars taking advantage of innocent folk. I don't know about you mon apprenti, but that sits in the pit of my stomach as well as rotten meat. So, I suggest we attempt to locate the party responsible. We'll not kill them, nor even harm them if it can be avoided. We'll ensure they understand the citizens around here are under protection however. I'll not have these poor sods sleeping with one eye open if I can help it." That was something he held close to his heart, a hatred for those who used others for their own gains. Perhaps that was his reason for a dislike of Templars, they always had selfish motives. By his sparse religious beleifs he should be kind to all of his fellow man. That was an idealistic view, he knew the world for what it was and knew that to be impossible. Templars had never shown a reason to be given respect or kindness, he wouldn't be the first to start.

As they walked along the cobblestone roads they came into one of several marketplaces, dimly lit with various lamps scattered along the area. Several stalls dotted the lot, all sealed and their goods removed as their keepers retired for the evening. It was in many cases a dangerous place to be for the average bloke, theives were known to patrol these areas at night, not unheard of were attacks. More importantly however it also meant guards would patrol it regularly, particularly those aligned with Templars. In many ways theives had an alliance with the Assassin's, albeit a tumultuous one at times. Theives could often be the Assassin's eyes and ears in places they dared not tread, Templar controlled areas for example. That little fact was something he'd ensure Ave would learn, admittedly he himself made great use of this network despite the Grandmasters disdainful view of them. Gesturing for her to follow he wandered over to a nearby stall, leaning against it to remain out of the light.

"Patrols frequent this area, we'll wait for one then tail them. I'll show you how we can have a bit of fun with these bastards then." A distinguished grin came to his face, this was one of his favorite aspects of his jobs. If anything they may get some valuable information, or at the very least they could spook a few crooks into a restless night. "Ever shadowed someone before Ave? Followed and eavesdropped?"

[Gravislayer]

" Such uncommon familiarity is refreshing like cold water of a spring-dwell" Raska replied to the astonishing women, an agley smile on his lips as he once again raises is view to see her beauty again. His hands now lowered again, using his right to gesture and his left resting upon the shaft of his scimitar he continued his rather untrivial matter in the same flirtirious way as he started it.
" Oh mademoiselle Angèle as for me, you can train me, fight or~~ punsih me all the way your heart desires~ But for me~ Je l´aime pour devenir une assasin " He shrugs as that would explain everything, his motivation, his determination and even his fate.
Raska kinda wondered about himself, he the mysterious turkish men now begging a women to train him~ Lucky him that he wasn´t religious.

I know my strength~ I do know i am fast, yes agile~ But i also realize that i have weaknesses, for once i am not a very potent fighter, i lack expierince in close combat, may it be with sword or fist and my other...maybe even greater weakness would be the beauty of you kind Angèle~ But my fluttering aside once again, as for now i am only a notar of this guilds history while i do want to create some of this history myself~ I have my credo yes and i have my debt to this brotherhood so i think it´s time to repay it for the warm embrace it gave me...well besides free hospitality if one of the few aware people down here visit my local ofcourse "
Raska let out a dark, deep but yet warm giggle, he knew that his french accent wasn´t the best so he tried to disguise it with his flowery speech and few jokes, a bad habbit he has gotten into when he´s around natives from all country.
By using hia right neck to massage his neck he would look now deeply into the female´s eyes, his own sea like blue colour seem to mix with the natural hazel of hers. Yes he was kinda nervous and wanted to know what the answer of the female would be~ A yes? A no? Would she maybe kick him into his balls...a bad habbit of some parisian women if you flirt with them too much like Raska already had to face painfully.

"comme ça? What is your answer mon beauté?"
Eagerly raska would wait for her answer, sure knowing that he kinda disturbed her conversation with a younger femme, as far as Raska would know it her name would be Julie, a recuit as far as he knows but a beautyfull rookie...even if you could mistake her for a male from behind but then her style of walking would make it clear, atleast for him. A boyish attitude can also be very attractive for a man and well Raska is a man.