Sun-dazed, the Assassin slept peacefully by tall window, taking advantage of the breeze that came from the north and smelled distinctly like sand and smoke and palms. His head was cocked forwards, chin on chest, like a drunk's his fingers were splayed long over his notes, in case a young novice tried to pull them from him. It was unlikely an event, as Malik's temper stretched for longer than the shadows did, and all the novices in Masayf were frightened of incurring that terrible wrath.
Altair was not one of those frightened of him, and was hanging off the window by a single hand, watching the other Assassin doze. Malik's strong back
The streets of Venezia are a maze, and his workshop is set just complicatedly enough that the Borgia guards will find it problematic to get to him; Leonardo has no doubt that they wish him little harm, but the extra benefit of the tangled roads seems to put Ezio more at ease. The Assassin took one look around the workshop, muttered something to himself, then left him along on the steps with the boxes.
It is tempting to chase after Ezio and demand, at the least, a goodbye embrace (after all, there's no proof that there will be another chance to see each other) but Leonardo did nothing. He toed the ground, watching the Assassin's white-hooded
The villa is full of ghosts, and they come alive at night; and trying his hardest is not enough, because the ghosts get through anyway, and skirt down the corridors.
Desmond wants to shove his fingers in his ears, close his eyes tight, and pretend he's six, pretend this works. If you can't see it, then it doesn't exist; if you don't know what it is, it's just the wind.
He can still tell that they're there.
This trick never worked when he was six, either.
So he rose from the bed, and moved to the window, and there, in the grounds, are people dancing in gold and white, floating above the ground. He can hear the music, though there's no musi
Sorrow
Lullaby- Emmy Rossum
Shaun could hear the faint whimpering coming from beside him and the historian immediately woke up from what he had though had been a deep sleep. He had just crawled into bed two hours ago after a nearly three day work binge and he had prayed to every deity that he could think of that his boyfriend wouldn't get plagued by the nightmares that he always seemed to get, but his prayers seemed to go unanswered. Cocking his head to the side, the red headed Brit gave a small gasp when he saw how close Desmond's face was to his; he could practically feel the warm, frantic breath on his face. Sitting up and propping hi