i do all that may become a man;
Who: Elizabeth Tudor, Desmond Miles
What: all sorts of memory related things.
When: a sunny, quiet afternoon
Where: the villa
Rating: PG... ish?
Desmond had told Elizabeth often enough that she was a welcome visitor, so, on a complete whim of an empty afternoon, she decided to take him up on it. Though some part of her was unsettled as any good monarch would be in the presences of assassins whom were not loyal to her. Not that she believe he or any of his brethren would... but she'd be remiss if she didn't show some caution, she doubted they expected otherwise.
But it mean she took a particular sort of game to this, to finding him and the villa where he supposedly worked was large. Larger than her own palace, with certainly more floors. Was this what men would build after she was gone? That was mostly what she thought on as she wandered about, asking the stray person she ran into where Desmond was. Her skirts held in her hands as she looked about for him, and at everything else besides. Not that there was much of a reply for awhile, save the echoing steps of her feet on the floors, the rustling of her long skirts as they trailed behind her. Places like this, she couldn't help but feel were such a sad state without the bustle of people. She didn't much like how they were treated in such a odd reverence, when she knew that they were meant to be living, breathing hearts of human activity. Even for assassins, she can't imagine it changed much.
"Master Desmond?" The call is still gently spoken, but louder, trying to see if he was around again.
What: all sorts of memory related things.
When: a sunny, quiet afternoon
Where: the villa
Rating: PG... ish?
Desmond had told Elizabeth often enough that she was a welcome visitor, so, on a complete whim of an empty afternoon, she decided to take him up on it. Though some part of her was unsettled as any good monarch would be in the presences of assassins whom were not loyal to her. Not that she believe he or any of his brethren would... but she'd be remiss if she didn't show some caution, she doubted they expected otherwise.
But it mean she took a particular sort of game to this, to finding him and the villa where he supposedly worked was large. Larger than her own palace, with certainly more floors. Was this what men would build after she was gone? That was mostly what she thought on as she wandered about, asking the stray person she ran into where Desmond was. Her skirts held in her hands as she looked about for him, and at everything else besides. Not that there was much of a reply for awhile, save the echoing steps of her feet on the floors, the rustling of her long skirts as they trailed behind her. Places like this, she couldn't help but feel were such a sad state without the bustle of people. She didn't much like how they were treated in such a odd reverence, when she knew that they were meant to be living, breathing hearts of human activity. Even for assassins, she can't imagine it changed much.
"Master Desmond?" The call is still gently spoken, but louder, trying to see if he was around again.