TELEIOS ◉ Memory Theater event

[daistanbul]

WARNINGS FOR ASSASSIN'S CREED: REVELATIONS SPOILERS.

Aveline de Grandpre | Elena Gilbert
Emma Swan | Anne of Cleves | Squall Lionhart | Bethmora Fortescue

AVELINE DE GRANDPRE

48:20 - 54:19 Dressed up as a sexy minstrel

ELENA GILBERT

1:12:23 - 1:15:15 At the Arsenal
1:53:44 - 1:58:45 Dealing with the Great Chain

EMMA SWAN - death of minor character.

The scene opened on a small boy in Bursa, with thick, curly black hair. He was small, no more than five, sitting in front of a house with a beautiful woman, watching over him from the doorway. She was not well off, but certainly not starving either, and she clearly loved her young son, as much as she smiled while he carefully stacked pebbles on top of each other and giggled when his makeshift tower fell down.

But her smile soon turned serious as a man in a white robe and mask, strapped with at least three visible weapons, stepped into the courtyard from behind the house. The figure stooped down beside the young lad, and he didn't seem to mind the company; in fact, he offered the masked figure a pebble.

"Yusuf, come inside, quickly," the woman called, commanding the young boy's attention. He looked up at his mother, then at the figure, dropping his pebbles and following after his mother, ducking to the side of her hip to squeeze into the house as asked. His mother closed the door behind her, perhaps to protect him from what was about to happen. But little Yusuf was merely upset that his mother wouldn't let him see what was going on. So, he did what any rational child would do, and ran into his mother's room, which had its window still open. Then he peered out so he could see what was going on.

The masked figure approached his mother and spoke low, a decidedly male voice trying to keep calm. "Selma, you must take Yusuf and come with me to Istanbul. You are not in any danger - for now - but I would like to keep it that way."

"But what of Yaqub? Why is he not with you?" Selma worriedly clutched onto a support beam as she spoke.

"I'm..." The man sighed, head drooping. "... I'm sorry, Selma. We walked right into a trap. Yaqub stayed back so we could escape. He died fighting them off, they... they ran him through--"

But he could not continue as he saw Selma slump to the ground and begin to weep. He knelt on the ground beside her and comforted her as he could, but they both were clearly grieving.

While he didn't know a lot of what the man in white was saying, Yusuf knew what 'died' meant. It meant that they were gone. That they wouldn't come back.

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ANNE OF CLEVES - death of minor character.

Yusuf noticed the Janissaries well before his fellow thieves, hushing them and motioning with his head towards the group of masked men. They immediately fell silent, turning toward the market stalls, pretending they were browsing to lower suspicion. One stood next to Yusuf, examining a fine silk that neither of them could afford. But Yusuf kept his eye on the men, particularly their leader, who appeared to be approaching a poor beggar man and his small collection of money for the day. The man was older, perhaps with two decades on Yusuf. He had obviously not been able to eat for days, with how he hungrily eyed any food that passed his way.

"You, get out of here," the commander growled, nudging the beggar harshly with his foot. "You are an eyesore."

"Please, my lord, I only wish to eat." The man cringed away from the foot, grasping for his cup - with only a few hundred akçe at best. But one of the masked men quickly stomped his foot down on the man's hand, making the beggar cry out as the man then stooped down and emptied out his cup.

But the other Janissaries said nothing, keeping to their posts behind the captain. Yusuf scowled angrily at them all from his hiding place, even as the Janissary captain grew more impatient. "Do not make me create an example out of you, old man. Leave. You are disturbing these people--"

"No! Please!" The beggar pleaded with them, rising up from his spot on the hard earth to grab for the pocket change he had worked so hard to get. He was met with a hard slap from the commander, before one of the other men kicked him roughly in his side. Then the one on his left got involved, kicking the man in the stomach. Then the legs.

Yusuf was moving before the beggar could react in his own defense, but his fellow thief quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. "No, Yusuf, don't get involved. Not over such a small amount." The other hissed, nervously glancing at the guards to see if they had noticed.

"It's not the money, they're beating an innocent man--"

"-- and they'll beat you too if you defend him," the thief warned quickly, trying to tug Yusuf back into the line.

But Yusuf just shoved him off, before storming towards the four men and the poor beggar, just as one of the men had begun to shove the man's head into the ground with his foot. He brushed past the small crowd of bystanders and grabbed the offender from behind, wheeling him around by his breastplate and pushing him as hard as he could to knock him off balance. He succeeded in bowling the foot soldier into one of his fellow guards, though that left the captain and one guard still standing.

"Yusuf Tazim, you insolent brat! Why am I not surprised?" The commander drew his sword and pointed it directly at Yusuf's chest. "Royal business does not concern you!"

Yusuf drew his sword in return, deflecting the blade. "It does when you bully a defenseless old man! You are nothing but dogs in Janissary's clothing!"

The captain said nothing, merely yelled in anger as he swung for Yusuf's head. The other masked man drew his sword, too, and lunged for his side - but Yusuf quickly blocked both swing and grabbed the money back from the grunt's pocket, before pushing him away with the flat of his kilij. Before he could swing at them, his thief friends had come out of the woodwork, shoving their way through the crowd to pick the other guards' pockets, distracting all but the captain in a chase out of the area. They all gave Yusuf a knowing look as they passed by, dodging into the complicated labyrinth of the Marketplace.

He would have to thank them later.

The captain was easily outnumbered now, and he knew it. Angrily eyeing the young thief through his mask, he grumbled, "You're not worth my time, brat." Lifting his mask only enough to spit at Yusuf's feet, he did a quick turn on his heel before pulling his mask down further and chasing after the remainder of his squad.

Yusuf quickly returned his kilij to its sheath, scooping up the old man who had lain on the ground since Yusuf came up, cradling him in his arms as gently as he could. But that's when he saw it - a deep red gash protruding from his temple, that was pouring blood.

By the time Yusuf managed to get him to the doctor's market stall, the beggar was dead. The only thing he could do now was to pay for the man's burial with a combination of his own money and the money he'd stolen back. Cursing under his breath at the Janissaries, he only hoped he could meet them again so he could pay the bastards back, blood for blood.

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SQUALL LIONHEART



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BETHMORA FORTESCUE - NSFW. Nudity and vague descriptions of sex.

It was a dark, quiet, moonless night. The city of Istanbul slumbered peacefully, except for him. He couldn't sleep, not when he had neither seen nor heard from her all day. She knew where he was hiding - his usual hideout in the shadow of Galata tower, overlooking the small cemetery beside it. She had promised she'd come.

The trapdoor on the south wall suddenly opened, and Yusuf spun around, eyes poring over the face of a young woman, very pretty and starting to grow into her figure, dressed in traditional Romani clothes. How she managed to climb up the ladder-less entrance so easily in a skirt was always Yusuf's guess, because she always managed it.

"Asena!" He called, pushing forward to help her up the rest of the way. "Where were you? I thought you might have been captured by the Janissaries--"

"Shhh, Yusuf... it does not matter now," Asena murmured, giving him a gentle smile and leaning in for a slow, passionate kiss. It lasted for a long while, but the sound of armored footsteps down below suddenly caused Yusuf to pull away and close the trapdoor, locking it into place. They both waited, silently, until they heard the guard patrol approach, pause, and then continue on beneath them.

Yusuf glanced over at Asena, then, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. It was only then that he relaxed all of the tension in his body, letting out a sigh as well, but for an altogether different reason. "I believe it does matter. What are you not telling me, my love?"

Her smile quickly fading, Asena walked over toward the balcony, gazing out toward the Golden Horn. "My bride-price was delivered this morning."

"... what?" Yusuf suddenly was acutely aware of a feeling not unlike being kicked in the chest, and he sat on the floor in his shock. "But I-- I thought you said..."

"And I meant it. I do love you, and I don't love Khulai. Yet I must marry him." She turned to face him, clearly upset, but trying to remain firm. "My family is all I have left, and I can't lose them too. Not after those bastards took everything. Not after Papa..." Her voice broke, then, and she glanced away, trying to hide tears sparkling in her eyes from the lamplight.

Yusuf sat there in silence for a while, heartbroken. But you have me, he thought, though he didn't express it - clearly Asena had already made up her mind. "Then why come to me?"

"I came here for a reason, Yusuf," she murmured, glancing up at him again. "Lay with me. Tonight. I want my maidenhead to go to the man I love." Before Yusuf could object, Asena removed her blouse, before going for the knot that held her skirt in place. That, too, quickly collapsed to the floor, and she carefully stepped out of the pile of garments toward him, the lamplight dancing over her perky breasts and the gentle curve of her hips. She slowly encroached, every movement of her long legs setting her anklet to jingle, before she kneeled right in front of him, a bit of her joy returning at how Yusuf stared at her, awed by her beauty.

He gave in to her wish, memorizing every inch of her skin and every hitched breath as if it was his last day on Earth. They coupled well into the morning before both, spent yet exhilarated, curled up together on Yusuf's passing semblance of a bed, kissing, caressing, before the sweet solace of sleep took them both.

Yusuf woke up the next morning just at dawn, startled awake by the morning ezan ringing out over the city.

But he was alone. Asena was gone.

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