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(no subject)

WHO: Evie Frye

WHERE: South Village Fountain

WHEN: March 16h

OPEN TO: OTA

WARNINGS: Nothing, will update if needed.

I. The Fountain

Water filled her nostrils at sudden consciousness. The Ganges? She didn’t remember being by the river or a river. But memories didn’t matter when what she needed to do was swim up and out of the water. Sunlight was glimmering above and easy enough to kick up to. Air was taken in sharply as she broke the surface. Blinking away water she saw this wasn’t a river at all. Instead the boundaries were distinct and she found herself in a fountain. One deep enough for a person to sink in. Unusual.

Pulling herself up the side, she landed quietly as possible with the squish of her shoes against ground. Instinct had her reach for a hood that wasn’t there. Evie’s hand reached up again, feeling for the missing piece of fabric that should have been there. And it was then that she noticed the color of her sleeve. And the strange change of fabric. And the strange lack of fabric. Arms out, she looked over herself. What sort of decency would allow this? They looked nearly like undergarments, so simple and plain. She liked the color at least, a deep blue. Self inventory found that her weapons were missing. No hidden blade, no blades at all, no bombs, nothing. That nearly made her feel as naked as the strange clothes. And a strange bracelet that looked nothing like she had ever seen before.

II. Strolling through Town

She was decidedly not in India anymore. And this looked not at all like England either. Which left, well, the rest of the world really. Just not any of the parts of it she had been to. The itch to pull up her nonexistent hood was still there, however she noticed there were some other people in similar clothing. And others in different outfits entirely that bordered from familiarish to not at all.

First step. Establish surroundings. Integrate with the population. Blend. That was doable. In theory. People liked to talk and once she was familiar with the layout of wherever she was maybe this anxious buzzing in her mind would stop. If she was here for now she'd need to know where things were, where to go and where people said not to go. Structures were being noted and mapped as she walked along, faces and voices observed as well in case there seemed to be ones that popped put for interest.

There was none of that instinctive viewing of her surroundings, not as it had been. There was no glowing of targets or information. Concern buzzed in her mind again but she had plenty of skills to sort people out while seeing them as they were. Maybe they were all important. It was a possibility. At least none seemed to give off the instinctive look of enemies. Which might mean nothing at all.

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There is this balance that Jacob isn't sure how to keep. Not dropping a ton of information on Evie and making this harder... or keeping information from her that Evie needs, and making things harder. Damned if he does, and damned if he doesn't.

"A few years. Fair enough," he says, nodding. That he can handle more, knowing he isn't going to find that they have the city, and yet the price if losing her. Not that he would admit how much that hurts, though he's found in this place how it left him feeling. "Tell me dear Henry at least does right by you and doesn't have you just cavorting about foreign countries without proper name," he says, and yet even as he says it, he takes a huge exaggerated step back, expecting her to hit him. The light in his eyes definitely proves he's teasing her, and glad to have the chance to do so once more.

"And since you're handling that so well," he says. "I might mention it's well over four months," he says, having paused to actually calculate how long it's been. "Though it feels like years. As for the advances, wait until you learn the ones here," he says, shaking his head as he peers at her scrubs. "I'm not sure I know what blue means, but I know some I can ask," he admits, not wearing any of his scrubs. In fact, down to the gauntlets and the kukri at his hip, he's dressed as he had before this place, though a bit more modern.

"Speaking of technology..." He shifts one hand, the hidden blade springing forth. "Just got these. Made by Da Vinci himself," he says, watching her expression at that, figuring that while he's trying to ease her into this he can't not mention that. Da Vinci after all.

The punch to his arm was automatic at the accusation. "Who is to say I wasn't the one to make an honest man of Henry?" she sniped back, even if her cheeks glowed momentarily at the joy of the memory. But that was a memory that Jacob should share. He was there for their wedding. As if he hadn't been the first to know after herself about his proposal. And that gap was a stark reminder of the reality that she currently found herself in. That they found themselves in.

"Blue means something?" she would have begun to ask further into what that could possibly mean when suddenly there was a mention of Da Vinci. A laugh escaped her, unbidden, shocked, giddy and frantic. "Da Vinci? You're joking. Jacob I've had a very trying morning thus far."

Without thinking about it, his skin hardens at the punch and he barely feels it, making him realize it isn't only when he has fear for his safety, such as when he'd lost footing in a tree. Something he doesn't want to talk about and is glad only Hawke knows about.

"I say because dear old Greenie is perhaps the most honest person we know, and so there's no way you did him more correctly by his very nature," he teases, though after recent incidents, pains he's been through in actually allowing his heart to soften towards another, he more understands her affection for the man, and why it inevitably will lead to their marriage.

He pauses though, nose wrinkling as he considers something.

"Oh dear God. You'll be having children. I already feel old for my future self dealing with that," he says, fighting hard not to smirk at her.

Nodding though at the question. "All scrub colors mean something. Green allows your skin to harden, and to do the same for those around you. Protects you from harm. Yellow lets you blast a hole in things, apparently. Or so I've heard from a darling lady I know named Hawke. I don't think we'd worked that all out before to know what blue might mean," he says, not thinking about how that sounds. "But I know a few I can ask, though I don't think any other assassin wears blue."

Even as he speaks, he holds up his arm where the device is, vibrant green against the black of his coat.

Grinning at that laugh though, shaking his head. "I am not kidding. This place... I have no idea how it works, and I'm not happy about this because there must be a reason for it, but they have brought together many assassins that never should be in the same place. Names even I recognize and know," he says, almost self deprecating. "And with them came Leonardo. Delightful man," he says, smirking because he met him first. "I've already told him about you," he admits.

Henry was, she couldn't deny that. He in ways lacked guile in a way that made Evie wonder if the assassin's were what would truly make him happy. But the order also gave access to a level of freedom and information her husband would not have had otherwise. The order had use for all kinds of skills, after all. And perhaps they all needed someone who lacked that innate leaning towards dishonesty.

Her eyes rolled near out of her head at the next suggestion her brother dared for. "You're certainly not an uncle yet, and we've no current plans to make you one in the near future." She pointed out. Certainly children were something that was possible but there were ways to avoid, especially when they we're so busy between England and India.

She looked at the band on her own wrist, the one she had noted before. She slipped a finger beneath it, measuring just now much leeway was given. Not enough to slip off, not enough to cut circulation. She wondered if she dislocated her thumb it it could be removed. It might be a bit too tight for that. And apparently it meant more, along with these garments she assumed her brother was referring to as scrubs.

"It seems to have a disregard for time and space." She answered as she dropped the interest in her band to cross her arms. Her cheeks took on a shy bit of color. "I can only imagine what you've told him."

He had been the perfect balance to them in those moments when they had come to London, and that he had ensnared Jacob's sister should not surprise him. They were good for one another, and would likely find happiness together. That didn't mean he planned to make it easy for her. Especially not now when he's learned of her cavorting around the world with him. What kind of brother would he be if he let her off the hook?

"Thank God in Heaven. Though I would make an amazing uncle. I would get them in so much trouble," he says, which might be a good reason not to let him sit them. Ever. Who knows where they might end up.

"Can't even cut it off," he admits, shaking his head. "I've tried a few times and hasn't done much for me. They send messages, with talking pictures, and they seem to be behind the powers and the odd travel as well. At least the best most of us can figure out. A lot discuss it but answers aren't quick coming, though wait until I show you the larger version of these," he says, thinking about the computers he had gone to see.

Jacob nods at that. "Entirely. Most think I'm from olden times to them, and yet there's Altair and Malik," he admits, shaking his head. "And those from worlds we've never heard of as well." Zev had spoken of his world often and it is nothing Jacob knows.

"Oh. I told him that you would be delighted to meet him and take all his time talking to him. It's the others I told horrible things to," he says, smirking. He certainly didn't get mopey and cranky that she was gone. Nope. Nothing like that.

"Ha. Ha." she articulated with just how much fun she thought Uncle Jacob would be. Still it was nice to think of something that felt, well, normal. Instead of the strangeness that continued on, that seemed an assault on the senses with each person she ran into in this place.

But her eyes perked up at the idea of pictures. "Talking pictures? Travel? Aleck would have a fit at such potential." she mused as additional potential for the blue ring about her wrist began to filter through her mind. If answers weren't coming, that didn't mean they weren't there to find. It just meant that new places and perspectives needed to be attempted. Not that she would be egotistical enough to think she'd provide all of that. Well. Maybe a little.

"What, like aliens? Men from the moon?" Evie asked at the idea of other worlds. Was travel through space like Impey Barbicane and his cohorts something that this village was toying with in addition to all its other strange instances?

"The jokes on you, there's nothing at all horrible to say about me." she sniffed with an uneasy ego. The idea that these were true figures of history was already itching at her, because she could think of no other reason immediately of such convincing facsimiles. After all who would think to impersonate Altair?

"I promise to give them at least double the time we had before I take them for a leap of faith," he says, smirking even wider. Having Evie there again is lifting a weight from his shoulders that Jacob had not admitted to, but is now realizing just how much he'd let that sudden disappearance weigh on him.

He chuckles at that, rolling his eyes a bit though loving that is her first thought. "I suspect it's his knowledge that is behind them. Though I haven't asked Leonardo so maybe it started there." He'd never put that much thought behind it, just so long as he has the gadgets and toys he enjoys. Here, with things so limited, he's begun thinking more and more about those origins. "Not that you'll need things like the launcher here. Not a high enough rooftop to be found," he says, nose wrinkling as his lip curls.

Again though he laughs, a sound that has been lacking in his life for the better part of a month now, at least.

"Laugh all you want, but you're soon going to see things you might find make that a very plausible answer, dear sister." Shaking his head then, not sure what to make of it. "You should see some of the livestock here. Nothing we've ever seen in the countryside, let me tell you. Well, no. Like it but not the same." Because, for one, nothing was purple in the fields back home. "Your guess is as good as mine, but I'm curious to hear your reactions once you've gotten around a bit more."

Though following her about and watching is an amusing thought as well.

"Oh so you think," he says, trying to look innocent, batting his lashes, and failing at anything close to innocent. "There's one more thing you need to know though, because... some may recognize you. You were here before, Evie. Before even I found myself here."

"I had noticed that the rooftops were a bit low." Evie agreed, even as her mind was lost a bit in the possibilities that were presented. Technology past their own. Perhaps even past that of the Ones Who Came Before. The pieces of Eden had never been within her full understanding. Or anyone's. But this offered new insight, perhaps, in the strange and usual.

She reached out to pat his arm a moment. She could only imagine what thoughts she could have, with these pieces that weren't quite answers. Well they were, but not enough. Not enough to explain swimming out of a fountain to meet with one of the Grand Masters of the Assassin's. "I'll regale you with all my insights." she promised.

Her lips pursed with the tightening of her jaw at that. That innocence was already lost. "I've been made aware of that, actually. By a man claiming to be Master Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad."

"That's an understatement. It's dreadful and so... pedestrian," he says, more whining but who's quibbling? "There is only the trees to help, and worse is when you're positively banished to the plains. Just flat walking forever."

He actually shudders, having grown much too fond of London in a short time.

"Did he now? Well then." His tones grow a bit bitter, expression falling for a moment before he shakes his head, reminding himself that none of it matters now, and he has more important things to focus on. Such as Evie.

"Also, not claims. It is Altair, just as it actually is Leonardo. Also, Malik as well as Ezio, and a Connor whom I've never heard of. Unlike others," he says, nodding, speaking of them all in given names, casually. "They're the only in the village who know who we are, but for those they may have told." Such as Desmond and Lucy, though he's not aware of that.

"Not everywhere can be London." she reminded him, having spent time away from it now. Well she supposed her brother had too, albeit less willingly than either of them would have like. But this certainly wasn't the English Countryside.

There was that fall to his face, a flicker of something else that he did not immediately impact to her. Which, given how gleeful he had been to tell her almost immediately about things like aliens or powers, seemed a cause for concern.

"Dearest brother." she looped her arm around his to trap him against her side. "As your now far older sister, I demand to know the reasoning behind your tone. And to arrange my introduction to your new cast of friends."

"Isn't that the truth," he says with a forlorn sigh because that no matter what becomes of him, he will forever miss London, no matter the adventures this place has given him. It's amazing and wondrous in so many ways, but the skyline leaves so much to be desired.

"The introductions will be easy. There's the assassins, many of whom you can meet by staying near the forge in the north, and then Hawke certainly. She is going to love you," he says, smiling fondly. "And most of the others you can meet around the Inn. There's food and fire there, as you have likely already found I'm sure, so it's where most but the stalwart living to the north congregate."

Certainly avoiding speaking about the rest as he gives her a sidelong look. "Oh that I am never going to live down, am I?" He's certain of that. "And it's really nothing. Just a bit of a nothing that I made to be too much in my head. The one and only time I'll admit to you that I was a fool and I've learned from it."

He's learned nothing, but that doesn't mean he's not been hurt by it.

"Food and fire? In an Inn?" her free hand fluttered to her chest dramatically. It seemed the easy part to focus on for now. How many people there were seemed like it would be more on par with a village with the buildings she was seeing. "Such advanced and unknown technology. Tell me, are you even able to have a pint?"

But she preened for a moment at the assertion of her age and thus the need for his deference. Older and wiser, which was always true but now the impact seemed greater. But the eyebrow curved up as she patted his elbow in her grasp. "If you don't tell me, I'll just find out on my own."

"Given most of the houses don't have either, keep it up," he says, rolling his eyes. "And you've come in on the end of the snow so..." He glances at her, snorting. "No. No beer, though someone makes a liquor that you can get in the kitchen with a strong kick."

Of course he's tasted it. A few times. Just to see how it comes out.

He sighs, strolling along as he considers how to talk about this. "Okay, in fairness? You won't. Only two people know about it and he won't talk, he admits. "I found myself enamored of a gentleman, and I thought it was mutual. Sadly, it turns out he was caught up between two others, and using me as a distraction. I'll get over it," he says, shrugging, still trying to dismiss it.

That actually did surprise her. Such a strange jarring put together of the entirely futuristic and, well, she wasn't even sure. Even in her now fairly extensive travels there had always been something resembling a pint. "No beer at all?" Curiouser and Curiouser. "Is it from lack of materials or lack of fermentable plantlife?"

They both knew that they each had unique ways of getting people to talk. Though, luckily at least a bit of her curiosity was sated, with a tighter grip on her brother's arm. Heartbreak was something that was common, she had been lucky with Henry. Oh, Henry. "Are you certain you don't want me to stab them?" she asked with a half hearted joke of a smile. "I'm very good at it."

"Lack of livable life here," he says, rolling his eyes. "No yeast, but what's wild I've been told. They're working on it, but it has yet to appear," he laments, the pain loud and clear in his voice.

Jacob is quite a moment though at that offer, not looking nearly as amused. "As amazing as you are with a blade, dear sister, I suspect trying to take on this particular person in such a way might well end in your pain. You are good. He is perhaps better," he admits, giving her a pointed look because there are so very few whom he might consider better than either of them, and what training that would take.

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