tushanshu | [Video] I can see it all, I can hold it in, it's enough to break your heart...

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[Video] I can see it all, I can hold it in, it's enough to break your heart...

[Insert Arno, looking particularly dishevelled, bottle in hand, hair loose and flopping everywhere, and half dressed in only a loose shirt and trousers, there's a long moment before he's glancing into the camera, scoffing a little, though his eyes are blurred.]

It's invasion of the dread chihuahuas at long last, is it? Well, welcome to our happy little turtle. I guess you've already gone ahead and fetched your own treats, have you? Sounds a little cannibalistic and morbid, that, but you've gotten what you want here, no?

[And then there's a laugh. A stupid, drunk attempt at humor, clearly.]

I think we are supposed to learn by their example, somehow. Maybe that there's no real way to get away from any bloody thing, that no-one has the power to do a damned thing to prevent what's wrong from happening, and we are, ultimately, on our own.

Not very bright a prospect, but a true, and...work in progress, right?

[And then, Arno's slumping down in the chair he'd borrowed, letting himself slide to the floor under the table the console's located on, then staying there until the recording eventually runs out. At least once he's out of the picture, it's easy enough to see a few features showing the public console at the cafe he's chosen to pass out in.]

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[Shay knows that café.

It's the same one he and Arno met in to discuss their new arrangement. It's been ten minutes since Arno made that post, and the second that Shay watches it, he's pushing up from the console in the lobby of the hotel and making his way there.

Once there, with Arno over his shoulder, he sets off. Destination; The Morrigan. He's used to hauling drunken sailors back to the ship after a night in dock, so this isn't anything new, and he figures Arno would appreciate being dragged somewhere where his state can't be judged.

Once there, he's propped against the main mast... and a bucket of cold seawater is dumped over him.]

Rise and shine, monsieur. Bad form for an Assassin to be sleeping on the job.

[It's probably some testament to how passed out Arno is, how much he decided he was going to drink in the first place that he doesn't notice anything at all is happening. Not consciously anyway. He kind of flops over Shay's shoulder if that can be considered as a response, of course, but other than that, nothing. At least until the icy blast hit him anyway. And then, Arno's not thinking so much in his reaction as he's, you know, reacting, flinching, as a hand goes to his forehead. ]

Nnngh. [Yes, that's intelligent, isn't it? As he stands there, shivering a little, and okay, it IS helping the bleariness fade, even as he's sputtering and starring at Shay there, and trying to come up with something by way of an explanation anyway. Because he probably should give him one. Which is when the truth, from that horrible little note hits him again, and he's ducking his head, not wanting to look at anything.

At the last request of Elise de La Serre... if you would not have the death of another loved one on your conscience... Indeed an orchestration...]

Robespierre... [That word, the name, is clear enough for all of that, and the venom put into it probably says a lot. And then...] Germaine [And that's got a good deal more heat in it besides. At which point, he's attempting to stagger to his feet.]

Sorry. I'm about to be sick and I'd rather it NOT be on your deck.

If you were, you'd be swabbing it up.

[Regardless, his shoulder is going under Arno's to guide the drunk Frenchman to the side.]

Try not to get it on the hull.

Why'd you think I bloody care about avoiding it so much, then?

[Arno's kind of debating if it's a good time to attempt any feats of agility, just to avoid the possibility. It seems like it might be a decent idea, only, okay, balancing is kind of too much higher function at the moment to manage, and the trajectory is different than throwing down explosives or bags of coins. So, he's grateful for the shoulder, really grateful, once everything seems to be managed, although he's going to just stay there, with his head bent for a while longer, drawing in some breath. The air feels a little better that way, drenched as he is.

Something's occurring to him then, in a sort of panicked moment, remembering his first waking here, and he's absently patting a trouser pocket, more relieved than not to find the reassuring weight of his watch, his father's watch, resting there.]

Small mercies... [He mutters, more to himself than to anyone else at the moment.] the last time I did this, one of the local...whatever they're called, the horse things, woke me, not you. For whatever my life and reputation might be worth now, thanks.

Your reputation suffers no wounds from me, friend.

[Shay approaches, leaning with his back against the railing, next to Arno. He knows what it's like to want to drown his sorrows in alcohol; It's happened one time too often since Lisbon. Less, now, he had a purpose... But still occasionally.]

Although I am glad I rank higher than a horse. [A pause.] ...Sometimes, talking about what concerns us helps the mind feel more at ease.

[There's a relief in that. Shay's become...Arno's not certain exactly what he's become. Much as he jokes about favorite adversaries and the like, there's something more to it than that. He's found himself letting down his guard with the Templar, more than once now, thinking of him as Shay, instead, almost as a friend, or the closest thing to one of those that Arno's managed to find here.

Providence, or the Supreme Being, or whatever else you want to call it, maybe just plain "luck" has managed to do what Arno couldn't quite let HIMSELF do, and it's too big to understand just now. A part of him is grateful for that small mercy, whatever it is, and for Shay's presence now, but the bigger part of him's been rubbed raw, stabbed, and left with the aching, gaping wounds, hopefully to bleed out somewhere in an alley himself.

Elise's last request. Elise is dead. The words sit in his gut like a rock, burning up in his stomach, and his lungs, and leaving him unable to do much in way of thought, of making rationalizations or of much else. The very act of breathing seems impossibly hard, impossibly wrong that he can do it, when she never will again and down to his own fault. There's something so vile in it that he tries to choke back, and can't, not entirely. Still, to tell Shay all of that? No. If he does, there may be tears, and Arno patently refuses the idea of that. He's weak, and he's pathetic, but he won't reduce himself all the further. He can't, and it's a luxury he doesn't quite deserve. Not now, not ever.

At Shay's words, he tries to fake a smile, and finds himself able to do that easily enough. ]

Well, you do smell better, so you've got that one going for you. And remarkably more patient with a fool the brotherhood decided that they had to throw away.

[He'd not mentioned THAT part of his life story to Shay before, now had he? Still, it factors into all the rest of it.]

Got here convinced that they were wrong, that I knew everything and the council were a lot of fools and cretins. Maybe they still are about some things, but me?

[There's a hollow laugh as Arno slides a hand into his pocket, firmly grasping and holding onto his watch. If there's any comfort to be found when your world's shattered all before you, maybe he'll find it there.]

I've come to realize just how right they were.

[And then, he's gagging again, as he tries to say the next words, taking the excuse to lean back out a little, to hide his stinging eyes from view, choking on nothing in particular now, but not able to get the bitter taste out of his mouth for all the world, even when nothing there's nothing left for him to choke on but the tears he didn't want to shed. And the templar standing here with him is decidedly not the one he needs the most.]

Elise is [He's choking on the name now too, hardly able to form the word and stay coherent. ] She was my... I lo...and she is dead.

[And the enormity of that, and of the revolution that isn't are indeed proving too much to bear there's hysteria settling in, not that Arno can be bothered much with caring now he's gotten here.]

Edited 2015-09-17 07:27 (UTC)

[A hand finds Arno's back and rests there. A comforting touch, if nothing else. Shay knows what it's like to be cast aisde by the brotherhood, to lose people he loved, to have his entire world ripped from him, and be thrust into darkness.]

The Brotherhood aren't the almighty knowledge they pertain to be, monsieur. [He knows that. Achillies' thirst for a Piece of Eden...] You have promise... I wouldn't have come to you with my job if I didn't have confidence in you.

[He grips Arno's shirt.]

Don't let anyone else convince you otherwise, Master Dorian. Not even yourself.

[There are so many things in this scenario that, anywhere but here, in this place between times, where they're able to coexist before, that Arno should automatically be rejecting. A part of him points out that, rationally, all the same, he should be doing it now. Funny, how that part of his rational mind works when the rest of him's a heaving, barely able to breathe mess, lacking in all composure whatsoever. There's an irony to it, even, one that Arno will probably appreciate later on.

It feels like treason, still, against the brotherhood, but at Shay's words there, Arno does nod, slowly. There's no real treason if, officially, he isn't one of them, is there?]

Maybe not. [Those words don't taste quite so bitter on his tongue as some of the rest of them do.] They gave me purpose...a chance at what was meant to be redemption, but...

[That 'but' is probably obvious, and rather painfully, horribly so. Arno finishes that off with a bitter laugh.] This is not even them, not all of it. A good bit rests with me, and with my other failures. What is it they said, about the third time at something being the charm?

When you cause the death of someone whom you care for, for the third time possible? What does that make you then?

[And then, Shay's gripping his shirt, and Arno's forced to meet his gaze, which, he'd honestly rather not. Still, there's a faith in his ability there that's...Arno's not so certain what he thinks of that besides being a bit bewildered, and a little stunned.]

That someone has such faith in me...

That someone who has been through exactly what you're going through.

[Kesegowaase, Hope... Liam. Third time is definitely the charm. Liam's death still stings... it having happened minutes before arriving in Keelial. He stopped it from becoming four. Stopped the Grand Master from killing Achillies.

But it was far too late.]

Learn from your mistakes, Arno. Don't give in to the despair this life gives you. If you do...

[His expression becomes grave.]

You might as well end it now. [A pause.] I'll tell you this now, however, if you do... You'll lose any respect you have with me.

[By this point in time, that's the sort of thing that draws at least an attempt at a smile. Arno can't quite manage that much, and probably he won't for a while, but when Shay says that... when coupled with what Arno's come to know of him...]

The official version left out so much.

[He's letting out a shaky breath with that. There's a lot in what Shay's saying, and in the parts that have no details either.]

Makes it easier to hate you if...you aren't human, if we don't let ourselves believe...

[The Brotherhood's most certainly not the be and end all of anything. It seems to be the conclusion that Arno's older self, from what the letter said, had come towards as well, but he'd made that alone, without the benefit of someone there who understood it.]

Perhaps it's possible I'm not the one who's broken.

[The last is said rather quietly as he digs into his pocket again, extracting the watch, then opening it, fetching out the scrap of paper that his letter from the Future Arno's written on, and smoothing it out. The words are faded, blurred as they were when it arrived, but the injunction there is clear enough.]

The Creed is not permission but a warning, and dogma and fanaticism are dangerous and destructive. Do you suppose entire generations have gotten it all wrong,that it could be bigger?

[This time the half smile that he manages is real, and the breath that he lets out relieved, as though it's something Arno's wanted to say for a while, though he's only just made the connection now, and wouldn't have managed it alone.]

It's funny, but I feel so free. There's not much scope for absolution in there, but I've got the feeling that part's going to take work. It's clear one of us thinks I have that strength.

The official version would have you believe I'm a traitor. I'm fine with that.

[It's accurate, after all. But he betrayed something broken.]

Perhaps I'm not human. Who knows?

[Not many people can devote themselves to killing those he considers family, after all. It's a question Shay has been asking himself.

It was necessary.

As Arno pulls out the scrap of paper with his own letter, Shay's spare hand goes to his chest, where his own letter is.]

Nothing is true, everything is permitted...

[He hadn't thought about it before. What Arno says makes sense... The creed is open to interpretation. Maybe this is what the Colonial Brotherhood had in mind when they wanted to harvest the Pieces of Eden the Precursor Box showed?]

You have strength, because I was in a similar position to yourself. I'd been cast out by those who I trusted, who once believed in me. I betrayed the Brotherhood, but they betrayed me.

[A pause.]

And I know because I'm still working on mine.

That's exactly how Bellec put it.

[Arno's not so certain he would be 'fine' with it.]

But more than that, that version makes it seem so simple, like you just turned one day to have a lark of it, or decided it was a way for you to gain power. But...

[Arno's hesitating, looking for the right words to use here, lest he accidentally venture too far off the coast of searching for an answer here. Shay's what he has of home, a safe place to find his footing, and that's not something he wants to stumble into losing because he's been too free with his tongue.]

That's a great many people. I have no doubt that it would be Bellec. But...it isn't you. You've done some awful things, if you're sent back and don't recall this place, you're going to do more.

[And Arno's not sure how to take that idea,that his father is going to end up up dead at Shay's hands should it come to that. But having known Shay here, and now, this Shay, things have changed. The man's crimes are well known, the fact he is a traitor ought to be enough, but even so.]

Being human's gotten much more complicated than I used to think. My hands aren't clean, either, y'know? Not to make this into some sort of messed up confessional, any more than it's become, but... I haven't exactly stayed my blade before I've gotten every fact.

Things like this, what we're doing now... They didn't do much preparing me for when the story gets so complicated, when the templars that you meet have more factors involved than some sort of angry revenge.

[So, there they are, Arno thinks, barking out a short laugh.]

Then again, who could prepare me for you, Shay Cormac? Human, Assassin Slayer or anything else? I doubt that any lifetime could. And I'm not afraid anymore.

[Arno never really saw the man who killed his father. He remembers a suspicious coat hem caught out of the corner of his eye as he and Elise return, and for a few years, it bothered him, became one of those vague things that he pushed away to the back of his mind, and tried avoiding, particularly as fashion changed, and then here, when it became firmly Not An Issue. Still, he realizes now, that, under ordinary circumstances, there was no real reason to be afraid.]

I can think of no one else to put my trust in while I find my new footing.

[And then, the last. He's nodding.]

I suppose it's not meant to be easy. Well. We'll have each other?

Assassin Slayer... Is that how the future sees me?

[He chews that phrase over, not liking how it sounds. Accurate? Yes. But so much of the story can get warped or lost.

After all, the high-and-mighty Assassins wouldn't dare admit some turncoat Templar dog was right.]

Forgive me, I... would rather not know what I do in the future.

[Even though it was an important part of Arno's past, Shay's not sure he can handle it. His hand finds itself on his chest once more.

It is not your fault.]

And as for preparedness? I've found you can never be prepared for what life throws at you. You think you have things figured out, then, suddenly... [He chuckles.] the whole world shakes apart and you're back to nothing.

[His mother and father, Lisbon, Kesegowaase, Hope, Liam... Every time he got settled with his life, something big happened to shake it all up.

He looks over to Arno, managing to crack a smile. A genuine one.]

Templar and Assassin. I pray no-one else from home discovers this little arrangement.

[A hand goes to Arno's shoulder once more.]

Aye, we have each other. Suffering through things together. I can think of no better travelling companion.

One of the more...politic and printable terms I've heard. There's quite a few more...colorful versions, hushed whispers, pauses, things like that.

[Arno may as well opt for complete and total honesty here, right? It's what's being said, and no, of course Shay never could be right in any of the retellings. At least, Arno's starting to see the bias, even if he doesn't believe Shay is entirely innocent either.]

Two sides to every story and we've only ever had the one. But, no, we don't need to go on about it, really.

[It IS important, but...the world it's important in is far away from them now.] Puts you at a disadvantage, doesn't it? Petty as I am, that's really not sporting of me.

[It DOES tend to shake apart, solid ground shifting beneath you and...]

Like being dumped into some kind of shaft you have to crawl your way back out of, isn't it? And when you've got a foothold, sometimes...

[Well, you adapt, don't you? You make new paths, and all the rest and pray that they hold steady.]

Guess the world's never had our comfort in mind, has it?

Templar and Assassin. I think I know of one wouldn't have minded it so much. [Elise would probably laugh at him like this, right now. At both of them.]

We might even deserve the fact she'd find it funny.

...Nor can I. I'm glad you're here.

[It feels so odd to say, and yet it's absolutely true.]

Someone else has to be sensible here, after all.

[A snort.]

Sensible is one thing I'm not. I've had the life beaten out of me more times than enough to take things for granted, though.

[He looks back to Arno, frowning slightly.]

Feeling better?

[Suddenly, Arno's got a fairly good idea of how that might have happened, and at whose hands most of those beatings must have occurred at, and he feels a little strange. Not knowing the circumstances, he can't judge anyone, but...well, someday he'd like to know more of the story there, before making a decision. And then, he supposes that if anything, what Shay's said has happened, in a few ways, to him, and he returns that little frown, his eyes sardonic.]

I suppose life has its ways of knocking some sense into our thick heads after all. Guess I'm something of a slow learner myself.

[And Arno's seriously considering the question, because actually, no, he doesn't. Elise is dead, and it is his fault and doing, for his failure to stop it, as he's failed to stop so many things in his life, and he doesn't want to go on for another day with that knowledge buried deep inside of him, along with everything else. But, there's not much to be done with that, for either of them, and well, he does feel a bit more able to draw in a few solid breaths, without choking on them anyway, and his head's clearing a little, too. Things still look bleak but they're improved, a bit.]

Steadier, I think. ...Thank you.

[And then a realization's coming over Arno and he's looking away for half a second, groaning.]

I put all of that on the network, didn't I? I have some apologies to make.

You called the invading force "Chihuahuas."

[He sounds amused, very amused.]

Although you did seem to agree with their methods.

[Arno gapes at Shay a moment, checking to see if he might be joking, before making a little face when he realizes it's true. Of course it is. He'd had the THOUGHT after all, he just...]

Eurgh [There's eloquence if he's ever needed it. Arno's coupling that with a disgusted face.] Perhaps I don't feel so well, after all. You don't suppose I could move into your hold forever, do you?

Assuming you're willing to provide me with rent. It'd be pretty lonely. I only show up every other day to make sure the weather hasn't damaged her.

[A shrug.]

Although, you'd have to fight Deon for the position of Cabin Boy. The lad seems adamant on hanging around here.

That does make things much easier, doesn't it?

[And then, Arno's looking more serious.]

Actually, that does make a good deal of sense. You are doing the looking out for him bit still. Naturally, I'd assume he would want to be close.

[A nod.]

I'll admit... it's nice to have someone who's... [He trails off a bit.

Friends? Is that what they are?

The self-depricating side of Shay Cormac has to rear it's ugly head at this point.

Friends. Why would he want to be friends with a killer and a murderer?

Shay shakes his head.]

Nice to have someone who isn't trying to kill me, or afraid of me.

Yes, someone who...

[Arno pauses, himself, squinting at Shay as he considers itself. Friends is possible, maybe, but they have a weird history for that to be traditional. Still, considering WHEN they both are from, that they hang out on the back of a turtle and deal with non humans who are in charge? It's one of those things it's hard to pay as much attention to, tradition.]

I used to be, you know. The last, I mean. [That's not said hesitantly now, as it might have once been.] or the you that you become, but that's hardly YOUR fault, is it? Might have made me just a BIT unfair when you turned up.

As much as it's possible to understand though....I think we do have THAT sort of accord. Is it acceptable to call you my friend? I think you come the closest person alive to that, if you aren't.

I wouldn't object to you calling me friend.

[A slight smile]

I know several people who would consider us both insane, but I have no issue. I'm... glad, actually.

[Though, he wonders; how different would their relationship be anywhere else? Would one have slaughtered the other? Or would they have come to the same accord as they have now?]

[It's a smile that Arno's returning, and though it's a little hesitant, it's more due to the current circumstances, than to Arno's reaction to Shay now. Things have changed, in more ways than Arno having learned a few truths and confessed to others. Arno's changed, probably, and he suspects that maybe Shay has done the same.

Friends, then. It makes sense in some way, in the odd scheme of things. At least for here. Out there? Who knows? Arno suspects that they would probably be dead.]

I...may have been called that before. A great many times, in fact. And outside of here...I have no idea what we might have been. To tell the truth, I doubt I would have listened to you.

Circumstances being what they are, I'm glad too, that ours are different.

Would it help to know that my reaction to seeing you would be the same, regardless of where we were? I stand by what I said on the rooftops that day; I'm tired of pointless death and bloodshed.

[And tired of having to cause it. All to stop the Assassins from getting to the Temples and triggering more destruction.

All because they wouldn't listen.]

Although, I'm glad you did listen to me.

[Arno's cocking his head to the side a bit, studying Shay and considering. It's both strange still, and yet, a relief, an immense relief, to know that he does not have to check to see if the other is telling the truth. There's a weight to it too, though, that sadness Arno hasn't quite been able to understand until...until so recently as this.]

I...believe I understand the feeling now.

[The fact that it is going to go on forever, as a struggle, is one of those things that, when you really think about it, what the defeats and their victories mean on the smaller scale, where you deal with people, and not numbers, where there are the Hopes, Adewales and Charles Dorians, and on the other side, the Elises and Francoises, and hell, where there are the Shays who aren't literally killed by the war, but might as well have been, who have been beaten down in nearly every way that counts, where you aren't sure what's keeping them standing... It's not something he's fully GRASPED before, though Arno's getting the idea now, and seeing where someone could emerge completely exhausted.]

I wish neither of us had had to come to understand it, and I'm glad my grasp is not AS personal as yours, but I see it now. And, yes, it does help, now.

...I am too. I usually don't, but for whatever reason possessed me, I AM grateful. Keeping things up as they were...I'd have missed you. I wouldn't have known it, but it'd not be the same at all.

[A nod.

He moves over to lean against the railing, looking out over the peacefulness of the harbour.]

Seems we've both learned from each other. I wouldn't have believed an Assassin could put aside the inherent hatred until I met you.

Nor did I. Especially myself.

[It's an admission that shames Arno to admit to. Shay is certainly the bigger person in all of this, and he's not wanted to set things aside until so lately, nor realized the cost straight away. He's here now, but it's so new and strange.]

I also could not have believed that any Templar was quite...human as you are, and not some sort of ambitious power grabbing maniac. I suppose we both have our roles, don't we?

Better, this way. Now we're nearly even.

Edited 2015-10-14 22:44 (UTC)

All men are equal... Assassin, Templar, British, French... It's pointless to try and grab power.

[He shakes his head.]

But philosophy isn't my strong suit. [He straightens.] Either way, you're welcome to spend the night here. There's space in the crew quarters... Too much space.

[Given what Shay's already said, it's not the sort of thing that has him gaping like a shocked fish or anything, but still, hearing it said so distinctly is something else again. He nods, finally, able to accept that as Shay being Shay. ]

I suppose you've seen what that looks like on two ends. But, it's not quite my favorite one, myself. I'll accept that. Gladly. Don't think I'd fancy walking back like this.

[There are walks of shame, but then, whatever's past those...]

Well, then. Accept my hospitality.

[Shay pushes away from the railing to show Arno to the crew quarters.]

I don't have much to offer, and I fear rum would turn your stomach right now, but what's mine is yours.

I gladly throw myself upon your doorstep.

[And Arno's gratefully, if a bit damply, turning to follow after him.]

Just for now, I think somewhere quiet to lie down is all else I'll be needing. You'd be surprised, what you've already given me.

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[Video] I can see it all, I can hold it in, it's enough to break your heart...

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