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An Assassin In Keeliai.: Arno Open

Characters: Arno Dorian and YOU!
Date: April Catch All
Location: Throughout Keeliai, notably the hotel, a trashy bar, and the market.
Situation: 3 Openings throughout the month, or PM/Plurk me to choose your own adventure!

Option A. The Midnight Hotel:

[Like any instinct one has lived with for a long time, Arno's is to find high ground, and a clear view of just about any obstacles he might face. In order to get that, one must climb. He's avoided trying his skills on the hotel so far, having heard the place is somehow magical. All skepticism aside, he does know better than to mess with anything that has properties he cannot entirely identify. Well, most of the time.

At the moment, though, his better senses have taken a bit of a side trip, which is, of course, naturally, the reason why he's attempting it now, though something keeps him from reaching the top, and as it does, he finds himself dropping off by no fault of his own. The first attempt makes him only more determined to try again, and then another. It's becoming evident, though,that every time he IS pushed off the surface, it is into a different area, a different sector, of the city. ]

Merde [He's cursing once, before it hits him. Come to think of it, the hotel could provide a possibility. Should he manage not to be noticed in any of the districts, particularly those with a larger population, it would make for some excellent practice ground,and he can claim a method to his madness. Of course, considering he's looking like a bit of an idiot here, maybe not. But, please, let him know if he's spotted anyway. He could use a critique, honestly.]

Option B: A Pub

[If there's one thing Arno appreciates, it's the fact that, as much as the kedan don't seem to like them very much, there ARE still places to drink here. He's been in almost constant need of a drink for the couple months he's been here, and, by now, he's become a regular at a fairly trashy little pub, which, sadly, has an equally trashy little wine selection. At the moment, he can be found either at the bar itself, or, more likely, perched at a table in the corner, leaning back on two rungs of his chair, dirty boots propped up on the surface of the table itself, and a half finished glass in hand. Occasionally, he's calling out to passers by, those who look a little gullible, admittedly.]

I've a pair of dice and deck of cards! [He's calling out every so often, rocking back in the chair, and looking fairly smug as he does that.] Any takers, perhaps?

Option C: The Market

[Arno may have his phantom blade back on his wrist and a selection of bolts for it at the ready, but he presumes he'll need more at some time, and he's also entertaining ideas for a new sort of weapon, especially after speaking to Aya and trying to help her cool down. Still, the basic goods that he's securing to attempt messing around with his idea are a little strange. At the moment, he's inspecting fans, wooden, paper, silk, debating the best sort to use, and purchasing rather a lot of them, though you don't want to know where he got the Juulan, really. At any rate, it IS starting to look a little...odd. And that's before he's started looking at the available knife blades, even. As of now, he can be spotted inspecting the goods, and haggling a little over the price of a particular fan, silk screened, with the image of a turtle. It's...interesting to watch him try to charm the kedan, if nothing else.]

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Ireland. Dublin, most recently, near the beginning of the twenty-first century.

[It's audible in her voice if he's paying attention, though not as strongly as some here.]

What other problems have you been considering fixes for?

[She's... genuinely curious. He has some thoughtfulness to him.]

[That's...a long way from the 18th century. Arno's gotten over the shock of people saying things like that, but STILL. It's incredible to consider all the same. So many years. So many possibilities. He wonders, the way he didn't when he was new here, if the Brotherhood is still around in any of these places, or the Templar Order, by the same coin. Tony hadn't heard of them where HE is from, but it doesn't mean it may not be possible. For now, he's holding off on asking directly though, although, now she mentions it, there is a bit of it there, yes. Not quite Shay's level of it, but still.]

Now that you mention, I do hear it. And as far as other ones, well, there are a few that come to mind, most of them to do with defenses that allow you to look defenseless. It's too often someone can run into you at the last minute, and if you aren't prepared...

I was pondering something in the way of a blade attached to a boot itself. Like spurs with a bit more bite but that would need some kind of retraction, wouldn't it?

[If they existed in her world, China would find a way to know about them. Probably.]

[China's own solution for the looking defenseless goal is, unfortunately, a one-woman solution.]

It would, unless the wearer means to be stabbing everything they stumble over.

Tapping it against a hard surface would solve part of that problem, though conceivably dull the blade tip. And it would need to stay retracted. [She tips her head a little, in genuine thought rather than active allure.] Still, the mechanism ought to be relatively simple.

Definitely problematic on a dance floor at a party. Imagine it, weaving one's way through the crowd when suddenly Madame somebody's great aunt is bleeding. Entirely the wrong impression, I would say.

[He's grinning as he imagines the chaos, rather liking it, actually.]

True. Popping out a blade in and of itself is not so hard. But yes...it needs work as an idea. There IS always the old trick of hiding knives and daggers in one's wig, as a totally other option. It could get LOST of course, in all of the chalk and horsehair but...

Conceivably at least, it would present less issues and allow itself to be a bit more...unisex, I think the word is?

[China laughs, genuine and melodious.]

Which hardly lends itself to being undetected, it's true.

[Wigs? Ah. Paris. Those were truly fascinating fashions she will be glad never to experience again.]

The old tricks endure for a reason. Properly secured, losing a blade shouldn't be an issue.

[Shouldn't. Shouldn't is the key word there. But he has a point, and China can see it working.]

[And his grin grows with the laugh. Arno likes her, for her suggestions and the humor that she sees in things along those lines.]

Ah yes. With more than hairpins but manageable, still. At least, I should HOPE for that.

And there is always the tradition of poisoned hairpins.

[A wig would make those a little more practical, actually. Less risk of accidental self-poisoning.]

[China has not actually done that, but has seen those who have. Unpleasant.]

[The suggestion is a bit close to home for Arno, what with the templar pins he's come across so recently, and poisoned as they are. They're employed a bit differently, but still quite similar.]

Poison in a pinch, perhaps. I am...not its biggest fan but I won't deny the effectiveness where it's been used.

[There's an oddly sharp edge to her smile for a bare second, gone as fast as it came.]

What's most effective is rarely the most kind. But how much do you care for kindness in battle, monsieur?

Ah, kindness, not quite. Civility and honor, where I might use them are preferred. Or I have been trained to prefer them. So much as I wield death, Madame, I do so with the intention of making my kills swift and allowing my enemies to see them coming. But I am no soldier. The rules of war...I might see them playing very differently, there.

Civility and honor, hm?

[How quaint. She had use for none of those things, when she was on the battlefield. ...But she was a different person, then. To an extent.]

The rules of war, such as they are, have little place in subterfuge, it's true.

Something like that. Odd seeming, when it comes to my brotherhood and our purposes, but then our opponents play at nobility while instead employing tactics that are brutal and dishonest as can be.

As much as I would protect myself, and see others protected, going toe to toe with them, some methods seem a bit...much. I'd as soon skillfully kill someone to his face, to let him know I'd come to put him back to rest. In the ideal sense of course, [He adds that last bit, a small smirk crossing his face.]

Maybe I'm more suited to those, it's true. Still. I'd have been awful in the army.

You would have been.

[Cheerful agreement without asperity.]

Your ideal is a luxury, I'm afraid. A charming one, but one I never found all that much use for.

[If it's just about killing someone? Get them dead. Simple as that. If it's about making them suffer... well. That's something else, now isn't it.]

[He said something interesting, though. Gently, prompting:]

Your brotherhood, hm? There's an entire collection of subtle, honorable killers? What a thought.

It's done its job admirably enough through centuries.

[That's rather proudly admitted, though, admittedly, it may say a good bit more about the Brotherhood and the Order than Arno wants to admit to.]

In some of them better than others, I expect. We've evolved our teachings over the past generations. They'll probably continue, once I'm gone. But, yes, there is. Or rather, several of them. I'm with our Parisian sect, but there are others, so many many others.

I thought that made things rather clear once, about our world and our beliefs but now. I'm not AS certain.

Its job?

[Still gently prodding. They have a purpose. That's charming. The next question is whether it's a Purpose.]

Its longevity is to be commended. As is the recognition of the fact that times can and do change.

[She really likes to think she'd have heard of them if they existed in her world.]

And what is it you believe now, monsieur?

Keeping the world and its people free.

[Arno's answer sounds a bit ironic there, because, well, obviously, that's a naive answer and he knows it, and that that is incomplete. He keeps a straight face for a moment, then it twitches just a bit, expression rather ironic.]

Hardly so naive as that sounds, I assure you. Physical chains can be removed, but they take more time, and more collective power than the Brotherhood alone can have. But Thought, Free Will, the chance to exercise one's own voice. THOSE are virtues we protect. Doing it isn't always easy.

Take home. [It's a bit long winded, but Arno's recalling some beliefs here, things he has forgotten.]

Paris is in the midst of revolution. They want to cast off the king, they dare to think they ought to be allowed to work and to keep from being hungry.

A revolutionary idea that Peasants aren't...furnishings or beasts of burden or the like. They SHOULD have bread and work and the chance to be happy, or at least self assuredly miserable, like the rest of the world.

But it isn't that easy. Plenty of people want different things. There are men, groups of them who'd rather sway the thought of the masses instead of letting them have their own. They mean to have collective thought,to put themselves in the king's stead. They'd rule and manipulate and abuse just the same as the king has done to them, all under the noses of everyone who hasn't paid attention, and call that freedom.

It comes in so many different forms, the idea of control, of order but an order for a new world in which no one is allowed to think, or feel, or speak on it.

[The shake of Arno's head says it all.]

Our revolution's already been stolen. And it comes with more chains and heavy weights. The Brotherhood wants to cast them off, and help the people do the same. What looks like treason...sometimes isn't. Of course, if you bother saying that too loud...

Do you know our Madame Guillotine? She's had a busy several months.

Those are the kinds of chains we want to cast aside, or melt, or whatever else we can do. Free thought, free choice... Times do change, certainment. We want to change them into our advantage.

[And then Arno's snorting softly at the question, debating it.]

I don't think I know that anymore.

Edited 2015-06-08 01:33 (UTC)

[A good thing for that ironic twitch. If China thought he took that entirely seriously, there would be mockery.]

[His elaboration, though. She stays silent through it, her expression settled to something more neutral, watching him fixedly with those pale, pale blue eyes.]

[When he's finished:]

Times will change. Paris will; the world will. [Reassurance? Hardly. Call it confirmation. That whatever he's done hasn't been for nothing. Though as they may in fact be from different earths, this loses something.]

There will always be those easily led. Those who find it easier to follow than to think for themselves, and who are content in that position.

[...and, of course, those taught to obey. Inculcated. That is not currently worth talking about.]

Freedom can be a difficult thing, monsieur. Even unpleasant. But a worthy goal nonetheless. [Finally, a smile again.] It's always been mine, after all.

[There is, however, something endearing about the fact he actually admits he's lost. It's unusual.]

...goodness, where are my manners. My name is China Sorrows. And you?

[And it would be well deserved. It's the sort of statement that demands it, if one is being serious, honestly. He nods as she speaks then, considering her words a sort of writ for the future. It helps to know that someday, things are not quite down to Templar and Assassin, and that there is room for normalcy in all of that. He has to smile at the news.]

Then that is good. It's something that I was afraid of, seeing France slip into darkness. And so there will. Those who are not need to speak up, I think, to do all that they can to to see it doesn't happen. There's a difference between being content with something that's really good and something you've been made to think is good.

[Bellec had struggled with those, not so long ago.]

Freedom is never free, is it? Still, the things that we purchase it with...giving them up seems worth it, yes. It's good to know you feel the same.

[He wouldn't have before here, but divorced from the situation, with time to examine it, well... For now, he's sweeping into a bow, then offering a hand.]

Ah, yes, Madame. I'm Arno Dorian. A pleasure.

[China knows that difference quite well. It's one that's impossible to forget.]

It seems, then, we understand each other.

[There's a little smile as she inclines her head in return, sets her hand in his. Her air rather implies that she's granting him a favor, rather than simply clasping his hand.] A pleasure indeed.

[Arno's come to learn it slowly, but now that he has, it's not something one forgets, is it? Please say it isn't; reverting at this stage would be awful.]

Mm so it does yes.

[Her manner is impressive, and one that Arno is familiar enough with. He's met his share of nobles who employ it, and one particular valet. Only, of course, she is far more charming than anyone ever managed to find Olivier, he's reasonably certain.]

I'm glad of that. It helps to know those of like mind, at least where some things are concerned.

[Only if you lose your memories, really. It's the sort of learning that takes forcefully when it does. As long as he learned it somewhere else, he'll probably be all right.]

And isn't freedom one of the most important things?

[Their opinions will almost certainly differ elsewhere. Like, say, the responsible use of magic. Here, however, China finds she agrees with him, and she considers that he will likely be entertaining to speak with again.]

[Oh good. He's somewhat been refining it, here. But the basic building blocks had already been laid out at home, sort of like genetic code, only it'd taken actual purposeful thought and such. So that's a big relief, anyway.]

It is, yes. In whatever forms it happens to take. There are so many, after all.

[Well, Arno knows very little of magic besides what's here, if that helps at all. That could be an interesting discussion along that angle.]

[China nods agreement, still with a little smile.]

Of course. As many as there are people, I suppose.

We must speak again some time, monsieur Dorian. I believe I shall look forward to it.

[Oh, that could certainly be fun. Or Fun, depending.]

And I shall do the same, Madame. It's been a pleasure. I certainly think that it could be the same.

[A slightly more pleased smile, and an inclination of her head, and she's moving off, resuming her earlier perambulations.] Another time, then.

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stubbornlittleshit - 2015-06-17 10:04 (UTC) - Expand

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