asgardmeridiem | JUNE INTRO MINGLE

[It was one thing to be greeted by faceless maids in a castle and be told there was nothing to be done about the present situation, but it was quite another to accept that information without question. And Maria does not accept it, she will not, she refuses to believe that there is any force on this earth that will keep her here and away from her home, her husband, and the baby she left sleeping in his crib, and especially when the explanation given to her seems to feature the sort of Norse stuff and nonsense that her brothers used to devour in their youth. Vikings. Pah. What rot. There must be a way out, and if it is to be found then the best way to search is to look from higher ground.

And the best way to do that is to take to the roofs.

Her mind made up, Maria sets along the streets, weaving amongst the people as she tries to find somewhere she can begin to climb. She cuts a relatively anonymous figure in the swarm, unless a brown cloak, emblazoned with the red cross of the Templars, happens to mean anything to anyone, in which case she does not appear even remotely inconspicuous.

Where does she even begin?]

Edited 2013-06-13 05:30 (UTC)

[ It's less the cross itself and more the color which draws attention from at least one person in the crowd. Neither the pattern nor her appearance are of any real importance to him, rather it's the appealing way the light hits the red cross that catches Grower's attention. Having a host with eyes sensitive to the way colors display themselves under UV lighting tends to do that, so in a rather clunky sort of display Grower lurches to a halt and turns on heel when he catches sight of her cloak, and as a result stumbles a little.

And happens to bump rather blatantly into the people walking right behind him but he completely ignores their displeasure and weaves past them, trying to catch another glimpse of Maria--if she hasn't gone too far yet that is. ]

Edited 2013-06-13 15:01 (UTC)

[Maria's temper is not improving with the passage of time. She has been wandering around for almost half an hour and either she's not looking hard enough or she's lost her nerve about shimmying up the side of a building since she last had a chance to. Now these pipes on the sides of buildings look too flimsy, made of some strange material she doesn't recognise and not metal, and the walls all seem too tall and too smooth, the masonry too strange.

Perhaps motherhood has changed her more than she would like to admit. Two years ago she would have scrambled up like a squirrel to the best of her abilities.

She tries not to stop and think about her son.

She is lost in her thoughts, focused on the task at hand, though she does hear someone complain angrily about being jostled.]

[ She may very well hear a few more as Grower wedges his way through the rest of the crowd; there aren't a lot of people that try to hold him up (they have things to do after all). But they're definitely annoyed by the time he's cleared the main flow of foot traffic and managed to get to the small bit of walkway that's less-traveled due to its being so close to storefronts.

It takes him a second here to orient himself (he came sixteen steps from behind exactly, and pushed four people) but once he's got it he's heading forward, eyes bright and head turning to see if he can catch sight of--there.

Hello Maria♥ ]

[She comes to a fork in the road and wonders which path it would be most prudent to take. It's not as though she has any idea of where to turn next, this place is a maze of unfamiliar buildings, garbs and people and she suddenly feels very alone, surrounded by strangers and unarmed. What she wouldn't give for a knife or a broadsword.

She turns to look back the way she came and spies a curious looking youth appearing to watch her intently. Her brows draw together in a frown and she turns back around, slowly, and begins to walk again, more slowly this time, listening for the sound of footfall in case she is being followed.]

[ She is--and rather obviously too. He makes no attempts to disguise his movements or intent to keep right on her heels; even his expression is eager and intense as he picks up his pace and takes longer strides--a necessary, considering his host is so small. ]

Red. Red, red, red....

[There is something distinctly unsettling about this.

Maria lengthens her stride, her gait becoming purposeful as she tries to seek out... something that she might arm herself with. What she wouldn't give for a blade! At this rate she will have to resort to her hairpins.

Her fists ball at her side, her knuckles growing whiter and whiter with each repeated chant of the word as she begins to feel anxious.]

[ ...How rude, moving faster like that. Grower needs to work extra hard to keep up with her when she does that, and eventually decides he wants to catch up rather than follow; so he increases his pace to a jog and takes longer strides to come up behind her. ]

Red...! Oi!

[Well if this unexpected tail is going to call after her in such an obvious manner, Maria reasons, he either means her no harm or is an incredibly stupid assailant.

She has neither the time nor the inclination to deal with either possibility, and so she spins on her heel and shoots daggers at him with her eyes in lieu of a tangible one made of steel.]

No, not oi! State your business or leave me to go about my own in peace.

[ It's mostly the latter. He's not exactly the brightest in the bunch, but his expression does get more eager when she turns a bit and he catches sight of the red again. ]

There! The red--red, red. I want the red.

[The... the mind boggles. Really. Perhaps this unfortunate and frankly bizarre fellow has some sort of affliction of the mind.]

Are you some form of half-wit? Speak sense or not at all.

The red! See?? Right there. We want it. [ Grower points towards the embroidered cross upon her clothes, leaning in a little as if it ought to be obvious. ]

[She wants to lean away, but she refuses to be intimidated by some stranger with a fixation on... well apparently her cloak.]

What manner of simpleton are you that you believe you can approach a stranger and demand the clothes from their back? I've a mind to box your ears, knave!

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growths - 2013-06-16 04:04 (UTC) - Expand

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womanfromacre - 2013-06-23 14:38 (UTC) - Expand

[It's on her way around the district of Odin that Ezio notices her. Or, well- that infamous cross that she wears on her cloak. It provides a stark contrast in age and time compared to his modern attire, but the symbol she wears is enough for caution.

That is a mark of the Templar, of that he has no doubt. And he has dreaded the time when the gods would bring their enemies in once again.

He's spent a good part of the morning easing himself back into running the shop, and moving along in the crowds is easy enough in itself. His eyes draw forward, noticing her among the groups of people, and he silently pushes forward, through them, towards her.

It is an effort to follow, concealed and quiet, but one he knows like the back of his hand. He has no intention of breaking through and interrupting her.

At least, not yet.]

[This is getting to be beyond ridiculous.

Maria finds herself growing impatient and, worse still, hungry, and as her gut begins to remind her that it was a long time since lunch it seeps into her consciousness and interrupts her concentration. Her rounds have proven nothing, there is no-one who has been able to provide her with information about how to leave at all, and while she is not about to sink to desperation just yet she would not like to make any promises about her state of calm in the next few hours.

She is stopped by the scent of meat cooking and she finds she is perhaps hungrier than she thought as her stomach gurgles noisily. What manner of inn is this place?

And, for that matter, what is a burger?]

[Her method of... exploring, if he can call it that, is different from what he is familiar with. Still, Ezio watches, and when she does stop, he chooses to make his move. A simple push through the crowd, a gentle touch, and suddenly he is beside her, and actually, bumping into her. There are a few objects in his hands that go scattering to the ground, and he jumps forward in an apology towards Maria, picking them up as he does so.]

Mi scusi, madonna- I did not see you. Are you all right?

[She is jostled from behind and it's enough to startle her from her thoughts. She turns, a sour look on her face and fully prepared to remonstrate with the clod who bumped her should an apology not be forthcoming, but indeed it is offered and Maria's tongue is checked.

For now.]

I am unharmed, though the same cannot be said for your possessions.

[It cannot hurt to remember one's manners at a time like this, so she crouches down to help aid this Italian stranger fish for his things before they are trampled underfoot of the crowd.]

[Ah, good. For now, her mood is all right, and he can work with that. There is a smile at her gesture of helping, and now he gets a good look at her face. She's obviously not from Italy, her accent is thick and does not remind him of home. So where exactly is she from, and more importantly, when?

He gently picks up what is there, and places it back in his arms, a smile on his face.]

I am certain they will be fine, it is not far to my shop from here, after all. [A pause, and he tilts his head.] Are you familiar with this district?

I am not, in truth I am unfamiliar with all of these districts.

[Nor does she hope her stay in the city will be enough to become familiar with any of these districts, but that is more information than she wishes to burden this stranger with. Still, if this man is some kind of a merchant, then it would be practical to assume he has more knowledge of this world and its customs.]

You are occupied as a merchant here, sir?

You have arrived recently, then, sì?

[Though he does give a bit of a chuckle when she asks about him being a merchant.]

Not back home, no. I was a banker. I agreed to help run a shop here, as part of passing the time, and when the original owners left, it fell to me to take care of it.

[A nod of his head, and he continues.] If you would like, I can explain what I know of this place, provided I have your company to my destination.

[To the Bureau, where he can grab Altaïr, and discuss what to do from there.]

[For a moment, Maria hesitated. Would it be wise to go alone with a stranger when she was unarmed and unfamiliar with her surroundings?

On the other hand, information about the place was precisely what he was offering and what she needed, and though she may not have been carrying a blade at this time, she was assuredly capable of breaking a man's nose without very little difficulty. And this man, this banker as he proclaimed himself, seemed pleasant enough.

Then again, Maria had had plenty of experience with bankers in her time. After all, it had been one of the many, many services that her former allies had provided for the crown, distributing funds where it was deemed fit. For a moment, Maria briefly entertained an unpleasant notion that perhaps this might be relative to her new companion... and decided to not cast judgement upon a stranger so swiftly but to certainly keep her wits about her in the event of a negative outcome.

But it would not do to hesitate and take anything at face value, especially not with the stakes as they were.]

I would appreciate your aid. It seems the one place I desire to go is out of my reach, so I can certainly afford to accompany you. My thanks to you, sir.

[She's quick and witty with her tongue, he notices that rather easily, but there is still a chuckle for her words.]

Bene. This way.

[He won't have her wait until he gets there, that would be rude and he's pretty sure she'd grow impatient with him. So, he starts with what seems the easiest.]

This is Asgard, as you have been told. We have been brought here by the gods of this realm to help fight the sickness in the city, and to prepare for war. [A beat.] If we win this war, called Ragnarok, we will be sent home. If we do not, our worlds will cease to exist. [The crowd shifts a little, and he turns to the left, down a less busy road. Bustling, still, but not so much as before.] There are nine districts in all, one for each god, and each house gives two distinct powers for every person that belongs to it. Anything you may have had before is gone, and those who have asked for their previous powers have actually died from getting them back.

[A sigh, it's really complicated and he doesn't completely get it, but, it's a start. If she has questions, she'll ask them.]

Edited 2013-07-15 04:59 (UTC)

[Maria listens to what her gentleman companion has to say with an air of patience when really she finds hers is beginning to wear thin. Yes, yes, she is here to bring colour and light to this city she has no investment in and stave off a war that is soon to be upon them. She gathered as much from that crudely drawn explanation she was given upon arrival.]

And you have reason to believe that this is not all part of some elaborate hoax? I can scarce believe it myself that we are expected to conform to all this stuff and nonsense about old gods and vikings. I grew out of believing in those sort of myths a long time ago.

[Only to have her belief system challenged again in the shape of one mysterious artifact that her husband seemed to obsess over at the best of times, but she didn't want to believe that that could have anything to do with it, even though the possibility remained stubbornly lodged in her mind.]

And what reason have we to trust in the words of these so-called gods even if we do play along with whatever it is they want us to do?

Because I have actually fought in this war, and I know what they say is true.

[It's said as a statement- not to arrogantly put Maria in her place, or angrily defy her. He knows because he's been here, seen how the war should be fought, and how it was almost lost, if not for Freyr's sacrifice.

There is something of a chuckle from him, but not at her, just at things in general.]

For a long while, I doubted. But then, there were declarations of war being brought by talking dragons, ice creatures that froze people in the streets, giants that crushed natives and allies alike- and I realized it was all true. Every part of it.

We are in this war whether we choose to be, or not. Our involvement is our choice, however. They have at least given us the freedom of that.

[Ah, look at that, they've arrived at A Needle In A Haystack. The exterior may be something she recalls, the Syrian influence apparent throughout. He tilts his head a little, and approaches the door, opening it as an invitation to the inside.

He hopes she'll follow. Then all he'll have to do is to find a beebin to keep Maria occupied.]

Shall we?

[She listens to what he has to say in a state of near disbelief.

A mad man. I am dealing with a mad man.

Though... in truth she does not truly think that. This man is far too calm, too matter of fact, and there is no light of madness in his eyes. She has seen that too often on the field of battle, when one too many a man had fallen victim to the hardships of war. She had seen it in Cyprus too, in the eyes of Shalim. This Italian does not seem to unsettle her in the same way, though his words do little to give her comfort.

Giants and dragons and gods. It all sounded like the sort of thing she would expect from the fantastic tales she had told her baby son the night before as she had sat with him waiting for him to sleep. She should not believe it, but a decade before she would not have believed in the existence of golden spheres with the power to alter the minds and wills of even the most formidable of men.

Besides; what other explanation could there be to explain all of this?]

My better sense says I should not believe you, sir. And yet here we both are and my better sense appears to hold little sway.

[The building he has brought her to looks... comfortingly familiar. For a moment she is struck with a pang of longing for Masyaf, for her home and the walls of the castle, the familiar sight of white hoods and, above all else, her family. If this is really as hopeless as they say, will she ever see them again?

She cannot bear to think otherwise.

Nonetheless, she ventures into the shop as invited.]

A question, if I may. Would our involvement grant us enough favour with these gods to barter safe passage to our homelands? I have important duties I must attend to, I cannot afford to stay here.

Edited 2013-07-26 02:42 (UTC)

Day 284 anywhere

Re: Day 284 anywhere

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**we; not "I", oops

/pat pat

Odin!

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