What do you do when the world's going to end? How do you fix a problem of the year 2012? Return to the past, of course. This time, it's not one year, but many, centered upon a family's common ancestor. Templars and Assassins mingle their blood like never before in the New World, where the Assassin Brotherhood's Creed seems sometimes as if it was never known. With old friends gone and the making of new, true friends balanced on which side of the line you stand, the stakes, the future of the world itself, have never been higher.
PG-17, guys. There will be tomahawks to the face and swearing galore after all.
Sex goes to the haystacks (PMs/IMs).
Semi-literate to Literate, please. No text speak. None of this "i shtab u n teh faice u ded" stuff.
If you do get behind in the RP, don't worry. We'll catch you up. Just ask us what all went on while you were out. Or you can read the posts to catch up. Your choice.
Lex gripped the handle bars tighter as he accelerated on the bike that looked hilariously long underneath him. A Suzuki 380 GT, red, built to seat two, even coming with a little spot on the back to hook a basket or whatever he wanted to it.
Now he was flying in the trail of Shaun's nondescript white van, or the GPS directions on his phone told him, the conversation he'd had with his aunt, who'd graciously sent the bike up to him, feeling so many eons ago...
"Hello?" she had answered, sounding confused. It must have been the number; he was using Jameel's phone. "Who is this?"
For a moment, he had been frozen. What was he supposed to say? He had disappeared...when?A lifetime ago in some other epoch. He swallowed. The words came.
"I need you to send my bike up to New York."
Her breathing had picked up then, hitching. He imagined the look on her face, how disbelief must have been printed on it, incredulity. Maybe even a little relief, a little fear.
"L-Lexi?" she'd stammered. There was the disbelief. "Where are you?" That was more frantic.
"Mo--" he started, stopped. She was the mom he'd known, but... "Aunt Sophie, please. I don't have time to explain now. I need you to send my bike to the address in New York City I'm going to give you now. Can you do that for me?" He unsheathed his hookblade, silently as he could, slowly as possible.
"How soon do you need it?" she'd asked.
"As soon as humanly possible."
He parked outside the cave beside Shaun's van, rolling the bike into the entrance. The doorway was already opened. Pulling out his cell phone, he used it as a flashlight, slinging his pack over his shoulder. Peering into the darkness, he saw the slope and the boxes stacked near the bottom of it, the dim glow of the technology of Those Who Came Before, the beings people of old and in New Age culture worshiped as gods.
You people don't have the wherewithal to put up a damn ladder or rope or something? he thought to himself, ignoring the possibility of what else that could mean. Slipping a length out of his pack--rope, something always needed--he staked it down securely at the top of the slope and dropped the rest down, sliding down into the yawning mouth of the earth. Shaun and Rebecca were there, his brother-in-law working on some kind of holographic looking door, Becca sitting by the Animus. Desmond was busy talking with a gray haired, assholic version of himself, also known as his father, William Miles.
Lex watched as Rebecca stood up and stretched, walking over to a shadowed corner of the room and crouching down. Strolling over to the Animus, he was spotted by the elder Miles.
"Ngizobuya bo, beso bo!" he sang with a grin. Desmond whipped around, as did Shaun. The words echoed in the room, "Ngizobuya bo...beso bo!"
"Lex!" the two men shouted. Too late. He'd already grasped onto Baby's arm...
And then he was falling. Falling. And for a moment, he recognized the landscape. Then gravity sent him careening stomach first onto the cave floor. The wind left him, the world blackening. When he awoke--how long he'd been unconscious, he couldn't say--he climbed out of the same cave he'd parked his bike in, though no bike was there now. He stepped out into the blinding light of the noonday sun.
((Ngizobuya bo, beso bo! = I will return, my people!))
The tall slender men, dressed in the attire of a trader leaned against the wall of the tavern he had spend a good deal of the last evening in thinking of old times and about the many people he had left behind.
When one of the patrons had started insulting the Turk as damned halfblood he had left to evade the fight that would have followed and considering all the dirty little tricks his little older brother had taught him, much blood would have flown.
The thought of the little sparrow made him smile. This was one of the few things that lightened his gloomy and sad mood sometimes that he would at least see one of his loved ones again. He was sure that Skandar was waiting somewhere for him. He had promised the last time they had seen under stranger circumstances they would see again.
A yell made the former Turkish guard turn. Then a yell of joy escaped him, when he saw the small huddled figure having fallen into a mound of snow. Behlil hurried to where Lex stuck in the snow and helped the small man up, hugging him.
"Strange times you seek for a reunion. But reliable my older brother is and he keeps his promises."
"Always." Lex wrapped his snow-sodden arms around him, shaking. "Speaking of times, Bruderherz, what year is it? Also, I think I'm going to need to dry my clothes." He looked down at his soaked through jeans, his boots wet as well, despite his water proofing them, his socks and feet as cold as his fingerless-gloved hands. His T-shirt and wind-breaker, damp with sweat, were doing nothing for the chill settling on his skin and into his bones. At least there's no wind blowing.
Standing the way they were, side by side, no one would have suspected he was the elder of the two, smaller and limping along as he was, the breaking points in his bones aching even if they were long healed.
Behlil scanned the smaller man up and down, then shaking his head. He placed an arm around the sparrow's shoulders and led him to one of the taller houses next to the tavern he came from.
The landlord shot him a look when he entered the second tavern, that also offered lodgings for travellers, but didn't say anything when he saw the two men hurrying upstairs. The european stranger was paying good money so he wouldn't ask.
And mayb these men would drop the one or other piece of information his customers were so interested in.
Upstairs Lex was offered warm and cozy clothing, strangely fit for his size. "I had the strange feeling that our next meeting wasn't far away, so I bought some for you."
Behlil smiled and Lex recognized the cheerful young guard he had met in Istanbul ages ago.
Lex smiled as he nodded to his brother, taking a minute to check his weapons and his few possessions in his bag--well, it was actually Shaun's Bag of Holding--before heading downstairs to the tavern for something to warm his stomach.
Climbing up onto a bar stool, his right leg dragging a little with the cold stiffening it, he slapped a freezing, golden Turkish ackse down onto the bar.
"Shot of whiskey, please, barkeep," he rasped, coughing.
"Behlil, you never answered my question,” he could be heard loud and clear despite the scarf wrapped tight over the lower half of his face, “Can you stand on your head?” His fingers drummed against the counter as he waited for a reply.
“Sir, your friend left ages ago, said he would be back,” the man behind the counter stood leaned towards him, “And would be you be so kind as to not talk the way you have been for the past hour? You’re scaring my customers.”
“Would you be so kind as to breathe your dragon fire in someone else’s face?” the man waved a hand in front of his face, gagged, and made an over exaggerated face. The barkeep grumbled and went to take care of the young man that just sat down. He picked up the gold coin and looked it over; he then gave a shrug and looked back at him, “Whiskey, right?”
"Yeah, whiskey. Thanks." Lex crinkled his nose once the barkeep had turned away, having been given a heaping healthy lungful of the aforementioned dragon's breath. Agh, maybe I should've paid him with a tube of toothpaste. He looked over toward the other man at the bar.
"Y'know, I don't think my brother Behlil can stand on his head, but my other brother Amir can." Lex turned in his seat and leaned one arm on the bar. "London, right?" The Sparrow was glad for the warm clothing as the door swung open again to let another patron in. He was now clad in a white, woolen shirt covered by a green cotton waistcoat and brown wool pants with wool socks, too. These were covered by his boots, which were drying, thankfully, the bar situated somewhat near a hearth with a blazing fire. His fingerless gloves were drying as well, though he couldn't say much for warmth returning to said uncovered fingers, which were still a little painfully tingly.
He looked over at the man before hopping over the stools and pinched his face, everything that the young man had said gone completely over his head, “Behlil?” he cupped his face and turned his head to the left and right, looking him up and down, “Behlil! You shrank!”
“This is why I told you to ever never go outside after a bath!” He yanked him away from the glass of whiskey and carried him away as he panicked,
“What am I going to tell Alsoomse?” he gasped and dropped him, “SHE’LL EAT ME.” He picked the young man back up and shook him, “We need to make you--
"No, I'm his brother. Skandar is my name." He was surprised he managed to speak, what with his eyeballs and teeth still wrattling around somewhere in the back of his skull after being picked up, dropped, and shaken. Unsheathing and unstrapping his hookblade, he reached over with his left arm and hooked the glass of whiskey, sliding it down the bar. Grasping the little glass, he downed the shot and restrapped the multipurpose weapon to his arm. "But who're you and who's Alsoomse? More friends? Wait, my brother has friends? I seriously need to get him in touch with the Internet sometime. A tumblr would've really helped in matters like this."
"Night Stalker," said a female voice, a woman in a thick, furred, hooded coat coming in through the door, "what on earth are you doing to that child?"
"With all due respect, ma'am," Lex began, only to eat floor as the man vaulted over and planted his face into the woman's breasts. The Sparrow heard a sigh as he lifted his head; looking up, he saw the woman was giving the man a long-suffering, tolerant look as she petted his head.
A long, muffled explanation came from Night Stalker as he hugged on to her tighter. He looked up at her, propping his head on her left breast, “And that is why you cannot move Earth-Two out of the way of impending doom.”
Night Stalker then looked over at Skandar, “Tumblr? With all the fandoms? That is a soul stealing website.”
Alsoomse shook her head and sighed, then looked up as the boy who'd gotten up from the floor fell down again next to the bar stools and began laughing.
"Oh my God! Earth-two! And tumblr! He knows what I'm talking about! How? Oh, God!" Lex crawled up to the bar again, giggling and wheezing. "Barkeep, I need another shot This is too much. This is awesome." Tears were squinted out of his eyes as he giggled a little more.
Night stalker let go of the Alsoomse and took a seat next to him, “…No one understands you?” He held up his hand and his eyes smiled, “No one understands me either!” He looked at Skandar then back at his hand,