#thetemplarsfuture

[theladylibertykenway]

permanent m!A: Honoria's a Templar, having listened to Haytham instead of killing him.

((AGH? UM. THIS IS SUDDEN BUT I'M OKAY WITH IT. Any Haytham/Templar overall want to do this with me?))

#commanderdavenport #templarjohnson #thomashickey #grandmasterhaytham #thetemplarsfuture #jonathanpitcairn

[young-eagle-haytham]

thetemplarsfuture replied to your post: Oh, bloody hell… *grips the edge of his desk...

“….”

Hello, Charles.

#thetemplarsfuture #The Spirit of Vengeance

[pimp-master-kenway-blog]

got bored so I did more meme images for ya. Here you go :3

#thetemplarsfuture #meme images

[animus3pointo]

-- ((Sorry for the long reply. Working on final project while RPing :D))

#AnimusOOC #thetemplarsfuture

[grandmasterhaythamkenway-blog]

thetemplarsfuture replied to your post: Where is Charles Lee.

“…Is this a bad time sir?”

Haytham sighed, straightening his outer jacket. "No, no, Charles, I am simply growing tired of these 'greyfaces'. There actions echo the stupidity of humanity."

#thetemplarsfuture

[thetemplarsaquila-blog]

thetemplarsfuture replied to your post: occ:

[Three more days. That book should be amazing]

[Should and will be amazing! I've been looking up on it and just, I really can't wait to get inside Haytham's journals.]

#thetemplarsfuture

[masterhaythamkenway]

Chores

"What is this animal?" Haytham picked up Scribbles by the tail, the ferret squirmed.

Delilah tried to bite his leg by running at full speed and jumping. Haytham cursed.

I set down the folded linens and picked up Delilah while Scribbles squirmed from being held by his tail.

"That's a ferret Haytham, now put him down."

He responded by dropping the poor animal to the floor. Scribbles was unfazed and began his weasel war dance around the Templar.

I gently put Delilah down and picked the linens back up.

"Make yourself useful and give them food," I said as I walked to the linen closet to put the clothes away.

Haytham opened the boxes of food and gave the Cat and bigger ferret their respective food.

"You need to pour water in a bowl, add some food and let it sit for a while then you need to mash it together and add ferrotone for Delilah...." I called from my room while I hung the rest of the laundry in their respective closet.

I hear a grunt from the kitchen as he did what he was told.

"Why must I go through so much trouble to feed the smaller vermin?" He asked me with distaste. 

"She's a kit, so she can't have solids just yet." I explained to him while grabbing the trash bags. "While you wait for the food go throw out the trash." I handed him the bags, he left the apartments complaining about going through such trouble when he could toss the trash out the window.

After returning from throwing out the trash soaked through he glared at me.

"Good boy, now get mashing." I handed him a fork and motioned to the soaked ferret food. He stared at the fork and looked at the food with distaste before mumbling something or other about vermin children.

"They're weasels, and quit your whining." I instructed as I turned on the vacuum.

"You're lucky I haven't killed you in your sleep you mundane."

"You're lucky I haven't make you gay for Charles Lee." Admittedly I was still writing that drabble about them getting hot and steamy in the shower, but that was something Haytham did not need to know yet.

He snorted as he continued to mash ferret food mumbling his displeasure.

"Is there anything else I need to do for you?"

"You dust the furniture while I clean some litter boxes."

Haytham grabbed the cleaning supplies from under the sink and began dusting furniture, carefully placing everything back in place as he did so.

"Now, are we finished yet?"

"Nope, go fold the underwear while I bathe the ferrets."

"How about I bathe the vermin and you fold the laundry?"

"How about you listen to your mun or you'll be sucking the D for the next 4 weeks?"

Haytham glared as he walked to my room, slamming the door behind him.

I filled the tub for the pet's bath, which is usually the last chore of Thursdays.

Ferrets now clean and running around wet, Haytham came out of my room, face flushed and arms crossed.

"It has been done. What now?"

"Now food, you wash veggies I cook."

He seemed like he was about to protest, but instead he headed into the kitchen, while I got the cat ready for his bath.

One sad cat later (My cat likes baths, don't ask me why) Haytham and I settled into the kitchen to cook.

((Ok. Honestly, I live alone, so usually I only have to clean once a week -Sundays. Thursdays are pet clean-up day after I get home from work, which means vacuuming, cleaning cages and litter boxes, laundry, and some mild dusting before cooking and turning in for the night.))

#Chores #Muse vs Mun #thetemplarsfuture #haytham kenway

[grandmasterhaytham-blog-blog]

♔

IC

OOC

#thetemplarsfuture

[young-eagle-haytham]

thetemplarsfuture liked your post: Being completely dominated

Oh, not you too!

#thetemplarsfuture

[ziionotdiio-blog]

thetemplarsfuture replied to your post: “…I have a question for you.”

“How long ago did you meet Master Kenway?”

"Though I cannot recall the exact date, it was when Haytham, yourself and the others were releasing prisoners from.. Silas, was it? Well, I was among those Haytham released."

#thetemplarsfuture

[pimp-master-kenway-blog]

 

#thetemplarsfuture #You have that piece memorised anyways #gone now yup

[animus3pointo]

thetemplarsfuture replied to your post: chanjelinward & thetemplarsfuture is synchronized...

“…My name is Charles Lee. What is going on?”

>>Searching

>>User has known Templar affiliation

>>Access Limited

#short message received #thetemplarsfuture

[pimp-master-kenway-blog]

thetemplarsfuture replied to your post: hungry

“Sir? I thought you were asleep…”

"Could say the same for you Charles...." He shifts.

"but i guess I could say that it was my stomach that woke me.

#thetemplarsfuture

[animus3pointo]

chanjelinward & thetemplarsfuture is synchronized to the Cloud

»Scanning//Multiple Users Detected

»Initiating Lockdown Procedures

»State Name

#chanjelinward #thetemplarsfuture #NewArrivalsinAnimus

[young-eagle-haytham]

Assuming the building empty Charles wasn't concerned with formalities when he entered Haytham's workspace. His purpose was to leave out a fresh jar of ink and a carefully bound roll of leather holding a set of new quill pens. His mentor could avoid his birthday all he wanted, but Lee took some pride in the small gifts he could leave that were just subtle enough to show he remembered without being over the top.

Haytham returned not long after Charles had left, just missing him by a few minutes. As soon as he entered the room he had designated as his office, he noticed that something had changed--something had been left behind. Going over to his desk, he saw the small gifts and knew exactly who they had come from. A small smile graced his lips as he unrolled the quills. He was going to have to thank Charles later...

#thetemplarsfuture #submission

[young-eagle-haytham]

Don't Go

Haytham couldn’t shake the growing feeling of dread as he rode away from Fort Washington. He was in possession of the amulet once more, despite his attempts to convince Charles to take it and escape. Haytham’s plan had been to stay behind and buy Charles enough time to escape New York. He knew his son Connor was coming, and the Assassin would not stop until both he and Charles were dead. Haytham was willing to stay behind, possibly sacrificing his life in the process. But Charles would have none of it, though Haytham had noticed that his old friend had perhaps accepted his fate with a degree of reluctance.

But Charles’s argument had won out, and Haytham had departed the fort on horseback. In the confusion of the battle raging both in the streets and in the harbor, he was able to slip away undetected. His gut instinct screamed at him to turn around and go back. Perhaps, instead of facing Connor alone, he and Charles could team up… But Haytham’s promise to Charles kept him moving away from the fort. Finally, the Grandmaster hunkered down at a tavern a few miles away to wait it out. The fighting in the streets had reached a fever pitch, and civilians were quickly retreating to safety as soldiers fell dead left and right.

Haytham had no idea how long he had stayed at the tavern. It was long enough for him to doze off,  though, the past couple of days of hardly any sleep finally taking its toll on him. The tavern was far fuller than it had been at his arrival (and it had been pretty full then, too), and the noise and chatter was what had woken him up.

Or was it?

Next to him, two men were locked in an intense conversation, and Haytham would have ignored it, if the name Fort Washington hadn’t shown up when it did. All other noise seemed to drift away as Haytham leaned in closer to listen to their conversation better.

“Yeah, there was a huge raid on Fort Washington. Very bloody battle, right here in the streets!” one man said, his speech a bit slurred, though he was still sober enough that he was still relatively easy to understand.

“Tha’s ridiculous.” the other man replied, obviously far more drunk than his counterpart. “Foightin’ in th’ streets like tha’…”

“They even cornered the Major General!” Haytham’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Eh?”

“Well, the former Major General. Fought like a dog, I hear.”

“Wha’ ‘appened to ‘im?” Haytham leaned even closer, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew exactly who they were talking about. No doubt they had at least heard rumors of Charles’s fate. Was he okay?

The pause that followed was unbearable as the men nursed their drinks.

“I hear he’s dead.” the response finally came. Haytham fell back into his chair, squeezing his eyes shut as his head spun. No… it couldn’t be… Charles couldn’t be dead!

It took Haytham a good minute or two to calm down. He could still hear the sounds of fighting going on in the streets, even over the roar of the crowd of people. It was worth the risk. Haytham stood up and strode out the door, wearing a determined expression. He found his horse and mounted it, digging his heels sharply into its sides, spurring it into an almost full gallop despite the battle still raging in the streets.

It seemed to take forever to reach Fort Washington, probably because he was unable to take a direct route there. He had to take a few detours and almost lost his way once, but finally the fort came into view. The fighting had moved away from here, probably a result of the Patriots pushing the Redcoats back. Fortunately there were few soldiers about, but still Haytham took the careful, stealthy approach. He dismounted the horse and approached the fort, sneaking past the few soldiers he saw.

Inside, the fort was completely deserted, though he saw the signs of a great struggle that had taken place. And judging by some of the blood splatters on the wall, it was still fresh.

Haytham followed the trail of violence to the courtyard. It was still raining, as it had been a few hours earlier, so any signs of blood were, for the most part, washed away. But Haytham didn’t need a trail of clues to find Charles. The man was lying on his back, right where he had fallen. The rain was chilly, and Charles detested the cold… Why hadn’t he moved? Haytham tried to ignore the feeling of dread that settled in as he rushed to Charles’s side, dropping to his knees beside him.

“Charles…” Haytham said, shaking him gently. “Charles!” He was greeted with a very soft groan, and a hand went up to grasp weakly at his coat.

“He… he really packs a wallop…” Charles said, his voice so quiet Haytham had to lean closer to hear him. Despite the gravity of the situation, the Grandmaster couldn’t help but chuckle. “Technique is… s—sloppy, though…” Charles didn’t ask him why he hadn’t left—there was no need to. Perhaps, deep down, he knew Haytham wouldn’t leave. It was a part of his Assassin training that he would probably never leave behind.

Haytham found the wounds that were draining Charles of his life—one in the neck and one in his side. Not enough to be fatal, unless left alone. And judging by how pale he was, he’d already lost too much blood.

“Charles…” Haytham’s voice broke as he realized that his old friend wasn’t going to make it. If only he’d stayed behind! If only he’d arrived sooner!

“D—don’t blame yourself, sir…” Charles said, his voice even weaker than before. “H—he’s injured… you still have a chance to finish what you started.”

“We’ve been over this…” Haytham said, with a slight air of exasperation. This was a matter the two of them had discussed and argued over countless times before. Haytham really didn’t want to argue with Charles again. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with that. “I had an opportunity—several opportunities—to kill him. Yet I never did.”

“Heh… you always were… an impeccable gentleman…” Charles said with a chuckle. And a slight roll of the eyes. Haytham didn’t miss that little detail. His upbringing bugged Charles from time to time—both men had come from different backgrounds, after all, and while they shared a common goal, their opinions often differed on how they should go about things. Haytham had gotten no small amount of grief from Charles for not killing Connor when he had the chance.

Charles’s eyes closed for a moment, his hand going limp.

“S—stay with me, man…!” Haytham begged him. He couldn’t think straight at this point. Who could, when they were holding their dying friend in their arms and there was nothing they could do to save them?

“I’m sorry, Haytham.” Charles replied. The Grandmaster bit his lip, his throat constricting painfully. “I—I’ll wait for you… I promise.” With a soft sigh, Haytham’s second-in-command breathed his last, the hand still gripping his jacket going limp.

“Charles… Charles!” Haytham said, shaking him gently. But there was no response this time.

He was gone.

The Grandmaster let out a strangled cry, breaking down from the sheer emotional stress of it all. Never before had the death of someone he knew been so incredibly painful.

#thetemplarsfuture #ask