City Streets

Alas night had fallen, and the lights above the street began to glow dim. The streets were lively, partly. The sound of drunk laughter already filled the alleys, while groups of people roamed the streets crossing back and forth. The night was average, nothing too special. However, on a bench along the street, a woman with a green, caramel, and white dress sat alone. Sitting upright and overlooking what appeared to be a book, the female sat silently. However, she was silently observing her surroundings. Just incase she saw anything Templar, or Borgia. Threw the corner of her eye, she saw a patrol squad pass by, which they simply ignored her and continued on. The female didn't bother looking to see who it was, which she kept her head dipped down. One of the guards looked at her, examining the girl's light brown hair spun into a half braided bun. He didn't get a good look at her face, which the guard halted. Motioning for the others to continue, the guard smiled mischievously and knelt down to look at her face.

"Well, whom would be out at such hour?" he asked. What he got in response was silence. The girl merely ignored him, keeping her head ducked down. The guard furrowed his eyebrows, which he repeated his question. "Hm? Is my sincerity to much?"

"No, i'm not in a talking mood." The girl finally said, looking up from her book and meeting the guard's gaze. Darting blue eyes, long elegant face, and young. Extremely young. Probably around the age of 18 if anything. "It is odd that a guard would stop to investigate an innocent girl's whereabouts."

The guard raised one of his furrowed eyebrows, not exactly phased. "It was out of curiousity, ma'am." the guard said. "Talking seemed to be the least I could do." The guard observed the girl, trying to pry anything suspicious from her innocent gaze. She seemed reluctant and hesitant, her eyes filled with some sort of artificial purity. But his mind could be playing him, it could have easily been the way her eyes were shaped. Or the watery, yet darting color of her eyes.

"Don't call me ma'am, Captain." The girl said, closing her book and resting it aside. "It makes me feel older then I look."

The guard seemed to find the sentence funny, which he smiled. "I did not mean to call you by such, miss. Then what shall thy call you?"

"Annalee." The girl- Annalee- said.

The guard's expression changed, which he looked both ways before taking off his hat. He pressed it against his chest. "Thy which I didn't mean to mistaken you, Preacher. For you to sit here must be urgent news."

The girl, now being called Preacher, shook her head. "No, but I've heard you have a message for me." The Preacher said. Revealing one of her small hands, she opened her palm as if she were expecting something. "Make this quick, Captain. Then you may catch up to you patrol."

The guard nodded reaching into his coat interior and revealing a letter. He then placed it in her palm, which the girl placed it quickly next to her. Alas, the same patrol group came back, looking for there captain. They stopped, looking curiously as the two talked. With the letter now in her possession, she smiled. "Thy which we shall me again, Captain. Shall I have a name to keep close?" The preacher asked, smiling. It was acting, which the Patrol Captain played along well. "Yes, Miss, shall I be called Alistar."

Slowly standing, and nodding once, the patrol captain walked off. As the captain walked back to his group, a few of them gave him a pat on the back, then they continued on there way. The Preacher slouched. They had no Idea what had unfolded just then.

Looking up to the new arriving man, Annalee- or Preacher- looked examined him swiftly. He was without doubt a strange one. Black hair parted to one side, his eyes holding a strange, yet drawing color. Annalee, if that was her name, replied. "If you wish to sit next to me, you don't have to ask." Annalee said. The girl had only wanted to sit at night, reading her book in the midst of the unlikely hour. She did this every Monday evening, right as the lights of the sky went out.

Seem to be drawing to much attention in this area. The Preacher thought. I should sit somewhere else next time. She wanted to avoid the guard captain she had encountered. But this man who stood above her, he seemed to be a different one.

"Thy letter is nothing of importance to you." Annalee said simply. "He was being a vulture, like most Borgians. I was only lucky to see it was a captain in which my father knows." It was a point of deceiving that supposed Annalee developed over the years. As much as this man wanted to believe shew as an innocent 18 year old book worm, she was Amica. Amica Lynn Gracchus. Pretty notorious threw the lands, but she was just an average girl without her garbs and armor. Whether this man was a Borgian investigator or not, she was for sure going to keep anything about herself quiet.

"Music will not bother me." Amica said, brushing a strand of hair away from her watery blue eyes. Examining the flute in which he revealed she raised an eyebrow. "By jesus, I've seen one of those before! That model is really old, I think French made." she said. Her eyes glimmered with curiosity, something pure like no other. She kept her hands near her book, nearly throwing them up to rudely snatch the flute from AJ's hands. However, her book slipped out of her hands and onto the ground, hitting the brick road with a thunk.

There, tumbling out, was her bookmark.

"By my words! My clumsiness had cost me greatly!" she said, reaching down the pick up her book. Falling from underneath the collar of her dress hem, a silver necklace with a simple assassin charm hung out of her dress and into her hair. The supposed Annalee hadn't noticed yet, which she raised herself back up and brushed the cover of her book off. "I do believe I need to keep my excitement in check. My father would have forsaken me if I had damaged such lovely grouping of writing!"

Immediately taking alarm in the situation, Amica stood up from the bench and looked both ways down the street. Good thing it was empty. Sticking the necklace back underneath the fabrics of her upper corset, Amica narrowed her watery blue eyes. "How is this possible!" Amica said in a low hushed tone. "No assassins knows me from outside the creed! How is it possible you can identify me!"

Since she was standing up, Amica had a better look both ways down the street. Hearing the sound of footsteps, Amica grabbed grabbed Alex by the shirt collar and yanking him towards an alley. Shoving him into the darkness, Amica drew a long dagger from the shirt of her dress. She then grabbed him by the shoulder, shoving him into the wall and bringing the knife to his throat. She then halted, which the cold metal blade hovered over Alex's skin. "I cannot afford being seen with people such as Creed members. As the librarian here in the Centros district, there is a lot expected of me." She made sure her eyes were stone cold, the watery color halting.

Gritting her teeth, Amica removed her knife and place it back in it's hiding place. The women the took a step back, then gestured down the alley. "Now go, disappear like you said you would."