Someone wrote in [personal profile] asscreedkinkmeme 2010-06-15 02:59 am (UTC)

When In Venice [1/?]

"Assassino!" Was one of the most common exclamations Bernardo heard when he took the job as a guard. It pays well he was told. He wasn't told why they were going through guards so quickly, but Bernardo had an inkling. He wasn't allowed to lead patrol yet, but he swore that once he did he wouldn't yell assassino to every person wearing a hood.

"You stay here, bambino," Alfonso told him snidely, wrapping an arm around the courtesan pressed against him suggestively. "Get on the roof, and don't forget your arrows this time!"

Bernardo was resigned to a yes, tenente, and he climbed the ladder as Alfonso staggered off, drunk with the courtesan, not for the first time. He rested his back against the roof garden, watching the moon over Venezia. He watched thieves on a roof in the distance hackle a guard who staggered around drunk, trying to punch them or toss them from the roof. Too many guards were drinking these days, Bernardo felt. Once honorable men now drinking on duty because of the fabled assassino.

Suddenly, alert sentries from nowhere began to emerge, all crying wolf, clamoring across the roofs against a figure that had long since fled. Alfonso's brother Dante spotted Bernardo, who was already notching an arrow in the slim chance the assassin would pass. "Bambino, no, stay here. We need at least one honorable guard alive come dawn,"

"But tenente-" But Dante was already bounding off behind his squad. Bernardo watched him leave, chasing a figure that could be the assassin. He hunched against the garden again. "Cretino assassino, it amazes me that Venezia still has a guard to spare!"

"It surprises me too, mio amico." Said a friendly voice, and Bernardo swung around, pointing his crossbow at the man who was seated alongside the garden, polishing his-

Bernardo's breath caught at the emblazoned scarlet belt. Assassino.

"But I suppose man will do anything as long as he is paid, yes?" The assassin said, friendly-like. Bernardo's hands trembled. The darkly-clad man moved his hand from his arm and flicked his wrist , causing a blade to shoot out. Bernardo jumped. "Ah, no worries, amico," the hooded head lifted and Bernardo caught a wry smile, lips marked by a thin scar. "It was catching earlier. I was trying to pickpocket a guard and it killed him. Your associates were none too pleased." The lips frowned. "Neither was I."

"A-as-" Bernardo was stuttering. He was facing Death, and he could not even warn his comrades.

"Oh, no, please," The assassino begged. "I have been running most of the evening from your friend. What is his name?" A pause, then a careless shrug. "Si figuri. Fino a domani, bambino." And he launched from the roof and was gone before Bernardo had a chance to see where he landed.

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