paradisalogs | Training

James is no Mentor, but he's pretty sure he's better than Auditore. The younger Auditore, that is. It's been easy to tell that this boy has been itching for proper guidance, not whatever it is that Ezio's been pushing on him. What more could one want than a willing, curious student? Connor was no trouble.

James patience was probably just a little bit influenced by Connor being a part of Edward's family, but he'll deny that. No playing favorites, now, even if the simple fact that he's spending his time teaching this boy says as much. Can't say there's a lot of Kenway in Connor that James can see, but that might just be a good thing. No lust for fortune.

He's near, cutting a length of rope with a blade for another dummy. The question makes him smile.

"Ah Tabai," he responds, "He's a wise man. You'd know it the moment your eyes fell upon him. Hard to anger unless your name is Edward Kenway. But even in his rage he listens well to reason, and trusts his brothers and sisters as much as they trust him. The Assassins are his life. You won't meet another so loyal. I trusted him right away."

A shame he isn't here.

"A man like him would probably be able to make some sense out of us."

This mess of Assassins in this magical land.

Connor smiles too, because it's clear that James is fond of his Mentor, who sounds to be different than Ezio -- and different than Achilles, as well. Achilles is beaten down by the world, by failure and grief and loss, and he wonders if he was like this Ah Tabai before everything happened. But to meet someone whose life is the Order would be something Connor would like to see, though he knows in his heart that this will never be who he is. His people will always come first before anything, and perhaps that makes him a poor Assassin. He doesn't know.

"My Mentor would berate us until we learned to work with one another, I think," he says with no small measure of fondness himself. Achilles is stern and often grouchy, but he knows what he's doing.

But there's a bit of information in there that Connor isn't quite sure was supposed to sound as tantalizing as it is. Unless your name is Edward Kenway. His brief meeting with his grandfather revealed that, yes, he is stubborn and belligerent, but he's not sure if this is all there is to the man. Haytham's journal didn't reveal much about his father, and so he wonders.

"And... Edward," he says slowly, looking back at the dummy. "What is it that he is like?"

"Don't think you and I will have a problem." Ezio was the issue amongst most of them. Connor listened, and hadn't put up much of a fuss with James yet. He showed enough respect to his elders to satisfy James, who was only supposed to be a handful of years older than him.

He takes his time answering about Edward.

"Kenway's a man worth knowing," he replies, "And you'd do well to find out what he's like on your own."

To put it mildly, dealing with Ezio has been disappointing. But he supposes all histories must have some kind of sloughing off of the flaws of people -- even histories within the Brotherhood.

Connor's jaw tightens when James answers with such a vague response, because it's not really what he'd been hoping for. It's true, of course; James's opinion would be coloured with his own experiences. It would be a subjective reply, the same as if someone asked Connor what Kanen'tó:kon is like.

He doesn't answer right away, instead tying the rope off in silence before turning to face James. "It is difficult. We are... related," he says, gesturing vaguely to his chest, to his heart. "I think it is difficult for him to accept, and I do not wish to push a relation he does not want."

Edited (repetition ahoy) 2014-02-25 17:14 (UTC)

"I'm aware." It wasn't fun, trying to calm Edward down as he explained this future grandson of his when he had been so intent on finding his Jenny, but James can understand Connor's apprehension.

"I doubt he'll want you calling him grandfather, but he'll want to know his blood. He won't turn you away."

Kenway was softer than a scoundrel should be. There's no way he could ignore his grandson. His heart and his curiosity would get the better of him once the shock wore off.

"That will not be a problem," he replies mildly; Connor has no intention of calling Edward anything of the sort. The pirate is barely older than him, anyway, you know! But at least, he supposes, Edward accepted the news at all -- he seemed shocked and surprised, and for good reason, but he didn't seem to disbelieve it altogether.

Still, it's not the only reason he's kept his distance so far. Stephanie gave her opinion of the situation, and Cassandra and Ezio seemed to agree with his own reasoning -- or at least they were going to respect his wishes, no matter what their opinions were. And if there is anyone else in this world whose opinions would be valid on the matter, it's another Assassin.

Connor hesitates just a moment, then tilts his head, brow furrowed seriously. "Can I trust you, James? We are Brothers, but I do not know if it is proper to call upon this bond."

James starts collecting the spare rope they have, coiling it and putting it aside. Connor might catch the amusement on his face at him saying it won't be a problem. Of course. Thinking of Edward as a grandfather must be as strange as James thinking of Ezio as a Mentor. Titles they technically should have, but don't quite fit.

He looks up at Connor's question. Asking if you can trust someone is a good indication that you're unsure and therefore don't, but Connor is young. What isn't he unsure about?

"Brothers we are, aye. If you trust me enough to follow my instruction, I'd reckon you can trust me enough to call upon our bond."

Secrets are a thing he's pretty good at.

Connor's training in the ways of the Order has been pretty piecemeal. There is only so much that could be taught in six months, and Ezio didn't really go out of his way to instruct Connor in what is and is not proper within the Brotherhood besides. Though perhaps there isn't anything like that after all. He's been in training for a year, between Achilles's homestead and this world, and there is still much he doesn't know.

That's an encouraging response, though, even if he's relatively certain James wouldn't tell him not to trust him.

He turns his eyes to the side, and then up to the sky. "I do not know what Edward told you about my father, his son. But I was not entirely truthful with him. I have reasons for it," he says, lowering his gaze to James again, earnest and sincere and extremely, deadly serious. "But I would like to know if you think my reasons to be sound."

"Out with it," James replies, not one for such build up. Whatever Connor has to say is heavy, he can tell, but for the life of him he can't think of what it may be. Is his father a poor man? A knave lower than a pirate? A murderer, perhaps? The possibilities are endless.

"You have my full attention."

Being direct about things is something Connor needs to work on, he knows. Of course this sort of indirectness works among his people, but among Englishmen and Colonials, he needs to figure out how to say what he means right away.

This situation isn't really condusive to learning this tack, though.

Connor rubs at his cheek, then drops his hand. "He is Grand Master of the Colonial Rite and I am tasked to kill him."

Edited (really need to stop doing phone tags) 2014-02-27 14:27 (UTC)

James entire posture goes rigid, right into true alertness. Connor's father is a Grand Master, and he is tasked to kill him. Edward's son is a Grand Master, and Connor is tasked to kill him. Edward's son and this boy's father is a Templar.

"I can see why you wouldn't want to tell him that," he manages to say after a moment of feeling his heart slide down his ribs. Christ. It tore Edward up enough to have all this family he was unaware of (though through no fault of his own, this time), and so James doesn't want to imagine his reaction to this revelation.

"He needs to know this."

Exactly why Connor is so reluctant to tell Edward about this -- his reaction to Connor was bad enough. His reaction to having a son was bad enough. He can't even imagine what it would do to the man to tell him that his son -- the son he didn't know he had until a few short days ago -- is his ideological enemy. Someone so opposed to freedom that he would rise that far through the ranks.

So it's with an extremely open grimace that Connor receives James's suggestion. Him and Stephanie.

"I do not know how to say it to him. There is nothing he can do; it will happen whether he knows or not. I do not want for him to be hurt by this..."

"Don't worry about the man's feelings." Kind of Connor, yes, but he shouldn't be worried about that when Edward has every right in the world to know about his son. Nothing can be done, true, but ignorance never helped anyone. Not truly.

James rubs his chin.

"I'll tell him."

It isn't only kindness -- it's reluctance to have anyone else shoulder this responsibility. It's Connor's obligation to eliminate his father; the spirit told him what it is he must do to save his village, and so he needs to know. Edward is dead before any of this happens. What would be the point of hurting him in this way?

But, oh -- that's different than what Stephanie suggested. Connor's posture instantly goes rigid, and he takes a step towards James. "No -- you mustn't. Haytham is not here. What does it matter?"

James keeps a fairly neutral expression on his face despite feeling plenty annoyed.

"You're lying to him. Keeping a thing like that from Edward isn't going to do anyone any favors, and you yourself question if it's the right thing to do. Let him know, and let him come to terms with it."

Connor runs his hand down his face, the muscle in his jaw tightening; this is not how he expected this conversation to go. He doesn't know what he was hoping for -- validation? It's difficult to explain, his trepidation about letting Edward know the truth, how he feels it's his responsibility and his alone. Why should he bother a ghost with the affairs of the living? Connor already knows the ruthlessness of his father, the ruthlessness then that must run in his blood too, and he wants to spare Edward from the same pain and anger and shame.

He has his hand across his mouth and he's thinking about how to explain it. It's not lying, he wants to say, but it is; it's half-truths and secrecy and that's just as bad.

He takes his hand away and balls it at his side instead in a fist. "When I was a child," he says, because he isn't one now and hasn't been one for years besides, "the Templars came to my village and burned it to the ground. Half my family died. My mother died. How am I to tell him this about his own son? That his own blood is the cause of this?"

It isn't something he's told anyone. Everyone who knows only knows bits and pieces: his mother is dead, the Templars burned his village, Haytham is a Grand Master. He's not sure if anyone has connected the dots, but he doubts it. As he's told James before, he doesn't really think anyone takes him seriously.

Edited 2014-03-03 19:01 (UTC)

Everyone has a story, especially young men hoping to become Assassins, and James is sorry to hear that this is Connor's. He listens quietly, letting Connor say what he wants and giving him his undivided attention.

"Blood or not, your father--his son--is the enemy. You want any sort of bond with Edward, he needs to know. You need not tell him yourself. It's a thing I'm offering to do," he says, with the unsaid or will do regardless in his eyes. James likes his secrets and his dishonesty well and all, but he would never keep this from Edward.

"Edward cares about his kin more than your first encounter may lead you to believe. He'll want to know about you, and that includes what tragedy befell your family. He's a man with heart. Be honest with him, let him deal with it, and you'll find yourself a friend. Don't complicate it by keeping things from him."

Connor is stubborn. It's a problem. He folds his arms over his chest and listens, frowning vaguely at his feet. James has a point, has several good points, but he doesn't want to admit it. Keeping it from Edward makes sense, or at least he thought it did. It's only that what James is saying makes sense, too.

"I am not trying to complicate anything," he says, maybe a little defensively. For all his arguing that he's an adult, a man, Connor is still very much a child. He's in a weird place, and this whole bullshit magic castle business isn't really helping.

"He is not kin I asked for, nor did I think I would ever meet. But all the same, I am only trying to protect him."

James can have a temper, but knows better than to let it rise when dealing with someone Connor's age. Funny how dealing with a young man reminds him of the old governors of Nassau with their stubbornness and denial.

As far as James is concerned, Edward is learning the truth--one way or another. And, to be honest, he'd prefer to be the one to tell him his future son is a Templar. Connor is too close to this.

"Protect him by telling him the truth. Be honest," he repeats.

He's quiet for a moment, still looking at his feet. He can't even be sure anymore if it's stubbornness or pride or if he's truly so sure he's doing the right thing.

"Alright," he finally says, glancing up. "I will tell him in time."

Yeah, not good enough. James will tell him, and Connor can fill in the gaps whenever he feels like he's up to the task. Solution found.

"What contact have you had with your father?"

Nobody lets Connor do things on his own time, how rude.

At the question, Connor frowns, glancing to the side at the training dummy. He's not sure if it's a question because James is interested, or because he's trying to gauge if Connor himself is a traitor -- which is the main reason he tends to keep this information to himself. He doesn't want to be judged for his father's misdeeds.

"I have never met him. My mother bade him leave before I was born, and did not speak very much about him besides."

Maybe Connor shouldn't procrastinate so much.

James doesn't even consider Connor being a traitor to be a possibility. Though they've known each other a short time, he can tell the boy is serious about learning, and even a Templar would have a hard time feigning interest--nor would they put up with Auditore for so long.

"I see," is all he says, however, falling silent and moving past Connor to fix one of the dummies.

Maybe James should shut up!!!!

But no, then he does shut up, and it just leaves Connor frowning and confused. I see? What does that even mean.

Connor hangs back and watches him a little awkwardly, waiting to see if there's more to the conversation. When there doesn't appear to be, he hesitantly speaks up. "And so... what now?"

"We get to your training, unless there's more you have to say on the matter."

Anything else you feel like sharing, Connor? Now's the time. James doesn't bother trying to imagine how Edward will take the news about having a son that also happens to be a Templar, because he knows it's going to be bad and that's enough.

Did the castle know this would happen and decide to take away his ability to drink based on that? Christ.

"No," he says simply, because that's about the long and short of it. It's actually a little relieving that James doesn't seem all that bothered by the news, apart from Connor's reluctance to tell Edward -- it was never a sticking point for Achilles, either, unless one takes into account his doubt that Connor could actually go through with the assassination.

But he has to. And still, he hopes he never has to make that decision in this world.

Now that that's all settled, Connor adjusts his posture and comes closer to James at the dummy, waiting for instructions.

First thing's first: James undoes the straps on his left arm, the ones that attach the hidden blade to his wrist. Once it's off, he offers it to Connor.

"Don't slice your own fingers off," he says with a small, teasing smile.

Connor takes the blade carefully, almost reverently, though he shoots James a bit of a cheeky look. "I will be careful."

Holding his arm out, he buckles the hidden blade on, then tests it by tensing his hand up. His fingers don't get sliced off, actually, so that's probably a good sign, and he looks up again.

Good.

"You ever heard tell of how these things used to work? The sacrifice one had to make to show they were committed to our cause?" Trivial, maybe, but there was merit in knowing about the history of the Assassins.

Or at least in knowing how lucky they were to be able to keep all their fingers.

Connor relaxes his hand, letting the blade slide back into the bracer with a quiet metallic sound, and shakes his head. Achilles is probably very selective about his lesson plans; he's an old man with not a whole lot of patience. And, Connor has noticed, one who takes a lot of naps.

"No."

"There was a time where you'd have to lose your finger in order to wield the blade proper. Made it easy to tell who we were, so the design was later changed."

Lucky them.

"Would that deter you?"

He's a little surprised by that, and reflexively glances down at his hand to see how that might have worked, spreading his fingers to engage the blade again. Their fingers?

The answer doesn't come right away, because it's a good question, but eventually he looks back up.

"I would suffer the loss if it meant ensuring the liberty of others," he says, then rolls a shoulder and continues, "but it does not seem very practical. I suppose our numbers were larger then, if we could afford to be that obvious."

"The blade's design was different in the time of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, until it were modified so it wasn't plain as day who was Assassin and who was not, as you said. Most of us still get the proper finger branded to prove our devotion."

He glances over Connor.

"We'll have to figure something out for you. Should it come to that point."

He glances over too. It seems a little pointless to him, branding a finger -- removing the finger because of the mechanics of the device makes sense, but a cosmetic thing like that seems unnecessary. Not that he's going to say that.

"If I remain here long enough to complete my training, I will remain this age all the same. I do not think the others will take me seriously enough to accept it."

"Complete your training and they'll have no choice." James was on his side, at the very least, and he knew quite a bit about not being taken seriously for one reason or another. If the boy finished his training, then he deserved respect. He could already tell Connor had good temperament for an Assassin, so all that was left was skill.

"Auditore will have to cope, seein' as he's likely the only one to be reluctant to accept you as a true Assassin."

Training

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