paradisalogs | One temporary escape

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One temporary escape

Who: James Kidd and Cassandra Cain
What: Reading, then talking
When: February 10
Where: The library
Rating: BAE for Best Assassinbros EVER

Sometimes, reading lessons at home just do not work. There's too many distractions, it's too easy to look over and see Stephanie and lose interest in words when her best friend is right there. Even when she locks herself in her room to try to make progress, she'll find distraction in playing with Ace or just fall asleep.

On the days when she needs a change of scenery, she'll head up to the castle and find a nice secluded corner of the library, wish up stacks of beginner books, and just hope that maybe somehow she'll be able to absorb the ability to read if she just surrounds herself with enough books and letters.

She's there today, hair tied back in a short ponytail and sheets of paper spread all over while she practices her alphabet with shaky, uneven letters. It's been almost a year now and she can only remember up to M without having to check what comes next. With a sigh, she puts the pencil down and reaches for her cup of tea instead, not quite giving up but beyond ready for a very long break.

It's frustrating, being so bad at something that only takes her brain when her body can do impossible things.

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James has never been much of a reader, always too busy with ships or contracts or piracy in general to get lost in a book. Always too much going on in his mind. But Paradisa has landed him with more free time than he ever imagined he'd have, so when not learning about his new brothers or exploring the city with Edward, he roams the castle. The library seems like a good place to start to fill the empty hours.

It's not long before he spots Cassandra.

"You're looking busy, Cassandra," he greets, amused at that mess spread all over the table. As he nears, he turns a sheet to get a better look at what she's doing.

"Practicing your letters?"

She frowns, displeased by her own lack of progress more than anything else. Having a person to distract her is good, and that person being James is even better.

"Trying. Failing, mostly." It's a little grumbly, and she realizes that doesn't actually come across as friendly or inviting, so she pushes the chair beside hers out. Sit down, James. "Never learned. Trying, now, but it's... Just seems impossible, some days."

He sits, but not before turning the chair around so he can sling his arms over the front. He'd learned his letters fairly well as a child, though having to read messages carried by pigeons led to his comprehension increasing rapidly as a young man. Younger man than he is now, of course.

"Why's that?"

She watches James over the rim of her tea cup for a moment, weighing her options now. There's no reason to be anything other than honest, James is part of the same group that Ezio is and that puts them on the same team, the same side.

They've only known each other for a short time, but she trusts James. It can't hurt to be truthful.

"Has Ezio... told you anything, about me?" He'd promised he'd never tell her secrets again after spilling the beans to Connor, but he had been very drunk the night of the party.

"No," he replies. At this point, asking Ezio details about those who know about the Assassins would take a week. So far, at least, none of the people (women, all of them), seemed to be untrustworthy. James could figure them out for himself.

And the less he had to rely on Auditore, the better.

"Not a word, fond of you as he is."

Cass nods, pleased to hear that. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore what information stays secret, but it's good to hear her story is still hers to tell. Doesn't make it any easier, but it lets her control what it sounds like. That fondness part, it gets a bit of a smile, but she won't address that bit now.

"In my world, we have assassins. They're not... organized, like yours. Don't fight for... anything good. Fight for money, or just... because they like killing." It's clear she doesn't approve. "No Creed, like yours. No Templars, either. My father... is the leader."

No Assassins, no Templars. A strange world to fathom.

"And what does that make you?"

"I was made... to be a perfect killer. From birth, was raised fighting. Wasn't taught reading, writing, talking. Only fighting, violence. Best ways to kill. Eventually learned... to understand bodies. To read that language."

Now you know why she talks weird, tell your friends.

Hmm. James would argue there's no such thing as a perfect killer, only perfect kills, but that's besides the point. Cassandra makes more sense, now, the way her speech is disjointed and the way she seems to infer things. She reads people.

James rests his cheek on his palm.

"Had me figured out our first meeting, didn't you?"

Either the Assassin thing or other things.

That's easier to talk about and it gets that slight smile to make a second appearance.

"Yes. Your body... tells a very good story. It was nice, reading something new. Something that... was a challenge."

"What did you gather?" Let's hear it.

"You weren't lying, when you said... your name was James. Your body believes it, makes it the truth." She shrugs, because that's an easily accepted thing. "Sometimes it's easier, letting the world... see you one way. Gets you farther. Makes sense."

Molotov, and now this girl. Secrets were hard to keep in this place. Then again, pirates and sailors were easily fooled when it came to things they'd never suspect.

"Mary is my name most days," she introduces herself, and then comes the usual warning: "But to others, I'd like to remain James. You seem to understand why that is."

To be fair, Cass does have an advantage that most people don't.

"It's a nice name. No one will... learn it from me."

Mary gives Cass an appreciative nod. Her Assassin secrets were closer to her heart than what was between her thighs, but that was already out of the bag thanks to one Ezio Auditore.

And while Cass' ability did come across as different, not to mention useful, it's not a thing completely unfamiliar to Mary. It sounds a bit like the Sense, a thing that all people are born with--but not something all can harness. She and some others had a faint grasp of it, but nowhere near as much as someone like Edward.

"Suppose I don't have to be too upset with Auditore for interrupting our conversation at the party, now."

And this is one of the reasons she's so glad she can fit herself into the lives of the people from Connor and Ezio's world. There's an instant understanding, an acceptance she hasn't seen from people like this ever before. Sure they tend to think she's a little weird, but they get over it faster than most people ever did in Gotham.

She's not one of them, not part of their Creed, but it feels just as good being on the outskirts of what they have. She's made a place for herself there, and now with Mary and James as an ally it will only be better.

"Can still be upset, if you want." She says, grinning to herself a little. "You'll just have to... be sure to punch really hard, if you spar with him. Then, we can laugh at him."

"Seems like all his lady friends want that to happen," she smirks, straightening to grab another piece of paper from the table. At the very least, her secret is safe because of that.

"He's a good man. Just needs to... be taken down a peg." Maybe more than one, but they can work up if they need to.

Any smile she mad have had is quickly fading away again as she watches Mary looking over her work. And it is Mary now, interestingly. The body language has changed drastically, although she can still see flashes of James in there every now and then. It's easier to focus on that than on how little progress she's actually made in her studying.

"Pretty bad, huh?" She tries to say it lightly, but it falls a little flat. "That's... almost a year, of practicing."

And it looks like the work of a child. Wonderful.

"So I've heard," is all she has to say about that. Mary's got a few ideas formulating about how to pull the reins on Auditore, though another part of her wonders if it's even worth the effort. The man will eventually become the legend she's heard of. Was it really her place to hurry up a natural process?

Luckily, Mary spent ample time around many who didn't know letters beyond their own name.

"I've met scores of men twice your age that can't get their letters to look like this," she replies, flippantly. However, such things are important if you intend to do more than be a powder monkey or tie knots for the rest of your life. "Hope you're not thinking of giving up so soon."

"No. I want to... read the journal, one day. To know I'm..."

She stops there, because this is something that's been bothering her for so long but she's never said much about it.

"I miss so much. Things that... I want to know. Things friends say, requests for help... If it's written, I miss it."

"These friends of yours been teaching you?" Or at least reading to her when she can't.

That gets an immediate nod and the smallest smile because she's lucky, she's so lucky her friends, the people she loves the most, want to help her.

"Almost all of them. They're... very persistent. It's good." And she can pick up the bit of that that isn't said outright. "I don't usually... ask them to read stuff. I don't like to, unless it's important."

Mary looks a little amused by that very obvious catch.

"Do your friends find the same things important as you do?" How do you know if something is important if you can't read it yourself to judge?

Might as well show off, it's not every day her abilities are taken in stride this way.

"Most of the time. For the big stuff, anyway. It's only been... a big problem once."

And even then, her being able to read Ezio's little gloating entry probably wouldn't have helped anything about that whole situation. What a mess.

And now she shrugs, reaching for an extra pencil to hand over to Mary.

"Write your name. I'll practice it."

She takes the pencil and sets down the piece of paper she's been fiddling with. Her own letters are totally legible to herself and those she needs to write to, but she takes care in writing out James Kidd. Cass can figure out how to write Mary Read on her own.

"There. Let's see."

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