#τ::|| haytham kenway

[ofspvrta]

Kassandra had been across so much of the world already, seen so many different cultures, and appreciated their art and cuisine and music, their people (for the little she interacted with them) that any time she returned home, she came to recognize it less and less. The history was slowly stripped away and now her precious Parthenon was even gone, just the skeletal remains of a once glorious temple. A place where her friend died. The Venetians did that. So many bitter tastes were left in her mouth as more and more places that held such memories were destroyed, decayed, or rotted by time or man's intervention through conquest. Were she a lesser person, she could have left them all to their fate, but she's seen the beauty in humanity as well. Maybe that is why the calculations deemed her the Keeper.

"Why does that always seem to be the case?" It was more of a question she asked herself. Then again, there was an artifact to be found and trouble followed those little fuckers wherever she went. "Are they unhappy with the management?" Oh, she's seen her fair share of revolutions. She aided in the revolt against the Thirty Tyrants after all. Never mind how many times she's pushed back at oppressive regimes from the shadows. "Hm, perhaps it may help that I'm not British then. But, I'll be sure to keep my head down. Well, as much as I can, anyway." She joked, knowing she stood taller than many of the folk here. This only piqued her interest further, though. She had to find out if the artifact had any play in this.

He had gotten a taste of Ottoman control in Turkey, when he'd gone to retrieve Jenny. For all that Britain exoticised and exaggerated the spread of Islam across the Mediterranean and Europe, Haytham had found it an empire much like any other: diverse, at times militant and at others content to rest on its laurels, weighing slaughter and subjugation against art and education. He had seen the best and worst of it, the grand mosques and synagogues, preserved texts the newly-established British Museum could only dream of, a mixing of cultures they certainly didn't get in the south of England; and the treatment of women, the maiming of men, but, well, that was everywhere. What had happened to Holden would remain with him forever, but he had not found the Ottomans uniquely cruel. How could he, living in the colonies? Anyone could rob another of a limb -- or a member.

"You've sailed into a bit of a situation," he said, with typical English gentility. "Boston is rather a powder keg. Some disagreement between the colonists and the Crown. You might find the locals... less than friendly, at present. If you come across trouble in the streets, I would suggest keeping out of it." That was for both of their sakes: half the trouble in Boston was stirred up by Haytham's own men.

[ofspvrta]

"Yes, I'm sure there aren't too many Spartan women here." She set sail from England and the journey was far from the worst she'd had. But with her many, many years sailing the seas, she was prepared for anything the ocean could throw at her. It was always amusing to watch people's reactions when she mentioned Sparta, she wondered if people considered it a modern city, and while she will always call it a part of Greece, her home was now under Ottoman control. So many empires had come and gone in her years. She was certain the Ottomans wouldn't be the last. "Is there trouble stirring that I should be made aware of, Mr. Kenway?" Kenway, she had met a Kenway before... in the Carribean. Curious. "And how would you advise one to take care? I only stepped foot to shore today." Simple enough questions that she hoped would give her a better lay of the situation she may have been walking into.

"From Sparta," he echoed, and felt that old interest stir in him before settling again. There had been a time when he'd obsessed over the Greeks and Romans, as many young boys had. He'd memorised the weapons, the clothing, the great battles -- and, of course, the myths. Being mad himself, Dionysus had fascinated him, and Athena, and Apollo. He'd learnt Latin, and his Greek was passable. As he'd grown older, though, his horizons had expanded, and he hadn't thought about his old books in years, now. What a lovely little flash of nostalgia, then. "You may find Boston less than pleasant at current, I'm afraid," he drawled, eyes drifting back to her from where they'd wandered. "I would take care." It wasn't actually a threat, but his dry tone made it difficult to know that.

[ofspvrta]

"It is. I hail from Sparta, originally." Keep it vague, the man didn't need her entire life story. The Keeper raises a brow at him, sure, she is a curiosity. Probably the only Greek there, and certainly the only woman reaching her height and size that has ever graced this port. If one hadn't seen her face, she could easily be mistaken for one of the men, she certainly dressed the part. After a moment, the man spoke again, his question seemingly no different from any other small talk. "Business, pleasure, maybe both. I often go wherever the sea may take me. I like to travel." She truly came here in search of an artifact, but that was no business of his.

"Greek, is it?" He shook firmly, then withdrew his hands behind his back, cocking his head to the side. The polite thing would have been to withdraw, now, having made a faux pas in hailing her in the first place, but he felt it again -- that itching behind his eyes, the tingling along his skin. His sixth sense, that intuitive knowing that had haunted him since he was a child, was screaming that he was forgetting something important. At his age, he knew better than to ignore it. "You've chosen a fine time to visit. May I ask what brings you here?"

[ofspvrta]

Kassandra was usually on her guard, especially around anyone who recognized her. How much art was she a part of in times past? The statues and busts that littered Ancient Greece and later Rome. Accounts from historians past recalling the strange woman. When someone deemed her familiar, there was that bit of paranoia that told her they knew what she was. "Kassandra Aetos," she offered one of her many aliases as she shook his hand, "Thank you. I've been to this coast before, but not quite this region."

"...maybe so." No, he didn't believe that was it; but until he was able to place her, it would do. "Apologies, then, for the confusion." He offered a hand. "Haytham Kenway. Welcome to Boston."

[ofspvrta]

Kassandra's brows raised in surprise at the man's statement. There was something unforgettable about her, not too many women of her stature in the Americas, and her Greek accent stood out easily. Still, this man was unfamiliar to her, so his statement gave her pause. "I don't believe so, I only just came to port yesterday... unless you saw me there."

@ofspvrta / the delphic voice

"--you seem familiar to me. Have we met before?"