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asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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Satahonhsatat (Listen) - Part 2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-11 05:05 am (UTC)(link)Anyway, thank you so much for the adorable reviews! ;w; Really, they mean a lot to me and I love you all so much so I’ll just stop talking so you can read the rest. *cries happy tears*
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If Connor had been troubled that his first time in the Opera House would leave him uneasy, he certainly was not prepared for the Christmas play. People came in and out of every single door and opening they could possibly find around, cornering him, asphyxiating him. He had so grossly underestimated this place he now found himself looking everywhere to try and get out of people’s way without touching them, which seemed almost an impossible task with the clothes he had been gently forced by Achilles to wear again. The place was crowded with all sort of people he could find in the streets of New York; the high class - numerous small groups of fancy people trying to impress; the average person - an even grander number of people that still dressed adequately well and mixed easily with the wealthy lot; and the lucky ones - poor people who had been blessed with winning tickets over bets, had stolen from someone else, or casually found lost tickets on the way.
It was amazing he still got surprised by the confining crowd when he should have known that this was a special occasion all sort of people would not miss for anything. He had his own different beliefs, but had learned from Achilles that christianity represented a large portion of the colonies and thus, most people would try to attend to such festivities.
By his side, Haytham didn’t seem to mind much, probably already used to it. He had given his hat at the entrance (and Connor followed the example by removing his own hood), but they both retained their own capes in an attempt to hide their garments since Church would recognize them easily. The less suspicion they could attract the better.
They stood behind the curved stairs where less people walked by so they could talk without being troubled by others. Connor’s father seemed uncharacteristically anxious.
“I apologize, I could not find his cabin. We’ll have to look for him when it starts.” Hickey had been sent to the villa they believed Church was hiding in to look for the tickets in his personal items and find out the cabin number. However they were nowhere to be find. It was a possibility he hadn’t counted on and it was disgraceful.
“If there is no other choice.” Connor muttered matter of factly, but seemed annoyed by it. The less time he spent looking for the man, the more time he could invest in stalking him to learn about the missing goods.
“It’s starting, let’s go before the doors get too cramped for us to pass.”
Connor took notice of the hand across his shoulder guiding him inside and sighed. Even if he tried to shake it off Haytham would probably just grab him even tighter and tell him to stop being so uncooperative, so he pretended not to care (something he would get better at an astounding rate if Haytham keeped it up).
As soon as they were in the main room, he closed his eyes for a second before opening them again to a dark room. A serene glow danced around the people making them shine in the dark filled room. There were no results, unfortunately, as it seems Church wasn’t in any cabins yet. Just then a thought occurred to him and he turned to face his father.
“What if he’s here? In the crowd I mean, not in the cabins.”
“That would be impossible.” They entered a row in the far back, hoping not to raise attention when they had to get up in the middle of the play. “If he’s in a large group to talk he’ll need a cabin for privacy. You can’t talk with everyone when they’re all standing in a row, you wouldn’t be able to reach the person on the far side. He’ll be in one of the cabins, undoubtedly.”
Connor still had his doubts, but said no more since his arguments were logical.
At least the curtains were raised and the lights behind their row were put out. Connor tried his ability again. It was faint, but the last cabin on the left side, the one closest to the stage, was definitely glowing in gold tones. Haytham nodded to show him that he knew of it as well.
Without saying a word they got up and made their way out of their row, silently apologizing for the inconvenience to other spectators. They walked to the far back where they could not be seen and Haytham motioned for them to stop.
“This is bad, I don’t see a way up unless we climb the cabins, but that will attract too much attention in this small space.”
Small?! Connor screamed in his mind, but let it go. On his side there was a small breezes coming in. When he approached he noticed that all windows (and really big ones) were partially open to let in the cool air. He pushed one of them so he could pass through and climbed on top of it. Then he turned around and hanged outside.
“If we can’t get there from the inside, let’s go from the outside.”
Haytham didn’t seem to enjoy the idea, and if the hands he put around himself to protect him from the upcoming cold were any sign, he was starting to believe the old man wasn’t very fond of winter. There was no other way though, even Haytham could see that, so he didn’t say anything about it.
Climbing proved a lot harder than Connor had anticipated with the pants he was wearing. Cursing them inwardly, he attempted to grab on another window slowly. His father was certainly going to get back at him for this later, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had to go up slowly and nicely, making sure he wouldn’t stretch his legs too far apart. Thankfully the second floor wasn’t too far up.
Haytham climbed through the open window first. When he promptly offered Connor a hand, he simply ignored it and climbed through the parapet himself. He would not let a stupid article of clothing stop him from performing his duty objectively (it may have damaged his lower regions more than he intended to, but at least his pride as an assassin was intact).
The hallways on the upper floor were pleasantly empty as the few people on it were inside their cabins behind closed doors. Without saying a word, Haytham started walking in Church’s direction with Connor following closely behind. There was a pretty big number of closed doors before they finally reached the last one.
The young assassin approached the door in the hopes of pressing his ear against it to listen in their conversation, but before he could take another step his father placed a hand on his chest, stopping him on his tracks.
“Wait.”
For a moment there was only silence. Connor didn’t want to question him as he knew he had a good reason to stop, but after nothing happened for a good amount of time, he opened his mouth to protest. However once again he was stopped and Haytham quickly closed his other hand against his mouth and dragged him to the last room in the hallway. It seemed like a small warehouse leading to the backstage with lots of empty wooden boxes piled one on top of the other. The smell of rust and mold made him twitch his nose. As soon as the door was closed Connor started again.
“Care to explain?”
“They’re coming out, let’s go backstage.”
No sooner had Haytham finished saying that, Connor heard the door of the room on their side - Church’s cabin - open. He didn’t waste another second. Running to the back of the room, he opened the door and looked around. The place was unbelievably dark and messy. Three steps in and he had hit his shoulder against something. But there was no time to complain or see what it was so he just kept moving forward.
Then something caught his attention. There was a dim light coming from the stage, probably, just above him. Up there stood wooden catwalks that crossed all over the backstage, some of them continuing to the cramped warehouse they were just in.
“I have an idea.” He murmured to Haytham and tugged at his elbow. Then without warning, jumped to the wall, grabbing onto a an iron bar. Reaching the catwalks was not problem. Looking down he noticed his father did the same.
The problem was space, as the wooden bars were too narrow to let them both stand side by side. Connor had to move to the side to let Haytham get up on it. And just in time, as it seems the moment Haytham finished climbing they heard a door opening and, a few seconds later, the closing sound.
“They’re in the previous room.”
Connor nodded and started walking in the direction he came from. Soon enough he was face to face with a wall. At his feet a ray of light illuminated the space slightly due to a small opening between the wall and the wooden bar he stood on. He could probably see who was on the other side if he leaned down and peered inside, but given that whoever was there had apparently lit a candle, he would end up being discovered. It didn’t matter though, he just needed to listen and the small opening provided that well enough, so he leaned against the wall as much as possible.
Behind him a small pressure against his back and a low breathing on his neck told him Haytham was none too pleased to be left behind. Connor quickly looked over his shoulder, hoping his death glare would tell his father to back down and don’t push too much, but the man promptly ignored him, seemingly too interested in listening to the individuals in the other room. When he was about to lift an arm to push him, a voice could be heard and he completely forgot about the man pinning him against the wall.
With his right ear pressed against the wall Connor could hear them well enough. He couldn’t remember Church’s voice that clearly, given their one brief encounter, but he was sure it was him. The other man he didn’t know, but Haytham had explained everything about the aristocrats the man had become acquainted with and he was sure it was one of them talking to Church.
Nevertheless, much to Connor’s disappointment, no talk about the stolen goods were mentioned. They waited and waited and according to haytham, who knew the play enough to know which part was currently going on stage, they had stood there for at least twenty minutes. Yet everything he learned from Church was that he was buying a nice villa somewhere around the Frontier, his new clinic was to be erected in Philadelphia and that some of the men involved with the investments still had to be 100% convinced that Church would take care of the job accordingly and bring profits to their wallets.
“By the way,” as there was nothing interesting to hear, Haytham turned slightly towards Connor, his nose almost brushing against his son’s ear. “You never told me what it is that we are looking for.” Silence. “I believe that if I’m to help you, the least you could do was tell me what it is I’m supposed to look for.”
“We.” he corrected. “Stolen provisions. They were to be delivered straight to the battlefield, but only a small portion arrived.”
“Really Connor?” resisting the urge to roll his eyes, his hands clenched tightly against the wall. “You’re making me go through all this, wasting my time and risking my order, so that Washington’s men can have decent food on their tables and enough gunpowder for a battle that they will surely lose?”
At this, Connor turned his face furiously, looking at him straight in the eye.
“You’re welcome to leave at any moment.”
An audible sigh was heard from the man standing behind him.
“I suppose, but you wouldn’t let me kill Church in peace, now would you? Guess I have no other choice after all.”
“Then stop complaining.”
Haytham opened his mouth to retaliate once more, but closed it immediately after Washington’s name was heard. Connor tensed and pressed his ear against the wall even harder. Behind him he could feel his father’s chest pressing firmly against his back, but he was too interested in the conversation to care.
The whole thing was a lot bigger mess than Connor anticipated. According to Benjamin Church, the provisions had been safely stationed and hidden in the Frontier. It was to be moved in two days to the port, where the thief would eagerly sell them to the british army, killing two birds with a stone. Washington’s men would go wary due to the lack of supplies while the redcoats would thrive with them.
It made Connor’s blood boil. His fists clenched against the wall and he had to keep telling himself Church would be killed as soon as he retrieved the goodies.
Suddenly two hands covered his own clenched fists. Looking over his shoulder, Haytham didn’t look up from his feet, as if he could see both men on the other side through the tiny hole at the base of the wall.
“Just a little bit more and he will never have the chance to steal again.”
Was his father trying to cheer him up?
For a moment Connor relaxed. He wondered if Church had done something more to Haytham and his circle than just spread rumours about the templars. He seemed about as angry as Connor himself was. Slowly he nodded and turned around, pushing Haytham back as he did.
They walked back through the wooden catwalk and down. When they heard the door from the other room close, they want back to the room Church had just been in.
“If the supplies are still in the Frontier than I can find it easily. But it’s sure to be heavily guarded.” Connor brought a hand to his chin, pondering what to do.
“Well then.” Haytham exclaimed proudly, a coy smile adorning his face. Whenever he did that, Connor knew he had something in mind and that was usually not a good idea. “Let’s just wait for the supplies to be less guarded.”
His eyes pressed tighter, as if trying to understand his father’s plan, with no success.
“If Church’s going to sell those to the redcoats, he can’t bring them to Philadelphia,” Because that’s where Washington is right now, Connor completed the sentence in his head. “Boston would be a safer place, less bureaucracy, easier to blend in with the cargo in the port. What a clever bastard.” Haythem had been pacing around, but stopped to stare at Connor. “Let him move the cargo. He will surely hold a party to celebrate the new investment - and the New Year, of course. He won’t have to worry about it inside the city, which means less guards. And it’s not like I can’t send in a few of my own men either.”
Slowly Connor’s eyes widened as he started to understand where all this was going.
“With Church distracted in his own party,” he started.
“We can send our men to retrieve them.” Haytham smiled proudly. “Let us go to Church’s party.”
“He will recognize us.”
The older man walked towards Connor, making him flinch a little and be aware of their proximity. Haytham’s arms went over his shoulders and unlaced his hair. With the tip of his fingers, he combed through his hair, a weird sensation that made Connor shiver. When it was done, his father walked back two steps and stared, then undid his own ponytail, fixing his own hair quickly.
“Now he won’t.” It was risky and Connor still seemed to doubt it would work. “It will be our best chance at trying to get rid of Church permanently.”
Perhaps Haytham’s ideas weren’t so bad when they didn’t go against Connor’s own plans. With a firm stare, he nodded and let Haytham guide him out of the Opera House. They still had much to discuss until then.
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Oh shit, this is getting bigger than expected. I intended for part three to be the last, but I’m afraid I’ll have to write more, oops.
Re: Satahonhsatat (Listen) - Part 2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-11 06:03 am (UTC)(link)Let OP LOVE YOU!!
(Anonymous) 2012-12-12 09:32 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Satahonhsatat (Listen) - Part 2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-13 02:31 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Satahonhsatat (Listen) - Part 2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-23 11:47 am (UTC)(link)Re: Satahonhsatat (Listen) - Part 2
(Anonymous) 2012-12-28 07:22 pm (UTC)(link)