Entry tags:
Call me out! redux
【the ❝CALL ME OUT❞ meme】
a roleplay meme to inspire muses.
![]() ♛ refer to this list for active muses. ♛ post "calling" one of them out — you can do so by putting their name in the subject line! ♛ can be informal/formal/comment spam/crosscanon/whatever tickles your fancy! ♛ feel free to make up a scenario at the start, or wait to see where things go. meme code. |


edit the thousandth for ade
Whatever business that brought Connor to Nassau was enough importance to trek all the way over, a member of the Brotherhood wanted to meet him there.
Tales of his grandfather rang through his head also, but he had no time for sentiments he didn't deserve to have.
A stronghold of pirates and being in the Caribbean, which Connor had sailed in plenty of time in past, it had seen its share of the Revolutionary War. He was not there, but he heard of the battle that took place in 1776 when the Americans stormed Fort Montagu. He hadn't heard of far too much after that, other than a few years later the Spanish had decided to take Nassau for themselves only to lose it again shortly after. By now, this island was more populated than before, but that didn't really make the conditions any better.
When he didn't see a drunkard leave a bar, he was watching slaves being bought out to work on the ever growing plantations.
If this is why the mysterious Brother had asked for him to be here here, he was probably right to; because the state of the place was growing ever more concerning. But how did he hear of Connor to know to write to him? If it was someone he knew within his faction, it would be obvious. Not so obvious with this one, so he had to keep his guard up. So far, all points on the letter seemed to be true in regards to how Nassau was.
He kept himself from being too integrated into any crowds and tried to find his way to a tavern, he was sure to probably find whomever there. He had the look of a Brother, and a Brother knew a Brother most likely. Hopefully.
gently tags
This was no Saint-Dominigue. There was no Code Noir. And yet conditions here were poor: the lands surrounding Nassau exhausted by farming and the slaves overworked and punished for poor yields. It angered him, how things could change here in such a short space of time.
And yet where did Adéwalé have to go? He was displaced from his own time, and he had no home. The Jackdaw had been his home once, as had Nassau, in its own way. So it was perhaps fitting that it was to here he returned, garnering what little Assassin support was available anywhere in the region. One he'd managed to contact was a man simply known as "Connor", a native from around the New York region and said to be sympathetic to anti-slavery sentiment.
Was it ideal? No. But without Ah Tabai or the Maroons and their networks of contacts, he had no choice but to rely on the aid of a stranger, should he show at all. Adéwalé pulled down his hood to better conceal his face, and waited.
g e n t l y
He didn't pay any mind to normal patrons and kept a good distance, not making any sound or any eye contact to them. Find what stood out, his mind told him.
In the corner of his eye, he found another hooded figure. He wasn't getting drunk, neither was he trying to flirt with any waitresses, he acted very different. Plus, he wore a hood like he did.
Obviously, this could be his contact. But of course, he had to play it safe. He made sure he kept the parchment that was sent to him for this very reason. He said nothing as he made himself known to Adéwalé, and once he made himself known, he stood in front of him.
Still saying nothing, he pulled out the letter sent for Adéwalé to see.
He was here, so was he the man Connor was looking for?
A gutsy move, but the only one he could do without speaking of secret sensitive matters in public.
no subject
Perhaps he was imagining things, this new Nassau affecting his mind.
"You do me a kindness, to have come all this way, Brother," he said, keeping his voice low so as to avoid eavesdroppers, but loud enough to keep audible over the hum of chatter and music. "I am Adéwalé."
He held out a hand to shake, to show he wasn't posing any kind of threat as much as its being a friendly gesture. Assassins were distrustful types, and for good reason. He doubted that much had changed as the century wore on.
no subject
Something about that name rang familiarity. Where had he heard it before? Suddenly, strangely, Connor felt like he just knew this man somehow. How so? He never had really met the man, he knew that for a fact.
He wouldn't forget someone if he got to know them, especially through such business as this. He could feel Adéwalé's eyes survey him over, taking in his details. It was interesting to say the least that they seemed so different, but this was not the time for learning of culture and chatting up a storm.
He hesitated a moment when Adéwalé shown his hand. He didn't really know him, he didn't at all. He could easily not accept the hand merely because of obvious reasons. But he could just as easily think of him as a Brother, and for now, Connor could trust him as one. The man's robes and hood didn't shield him of his own kindness, from what it looked. He had manners. The hand was to show he was to be friendly.
He slowly took the hand, and just as softly spoke, "Connor, though you seem to already know of my name."
no subject
And the only other renowned Assassin he could get wind of, Aveline de Grandpré, was said to have been inactive for years, owing to a loss of faith in the Brotherhood. This stranger, as he saw it, had been his best option.
"Still, I hear tell you are familiar with these waters, if not with Nassau itself. Is that so?"
no subject
He wasn't sure how to make the other statements, Adéwalé was surely wording things weird. New and yet not so new? It almost sounded like he left the area and came back perhaps. Nassau did change much in the years that passed. At face value, Adéwalé seemed like he lived long enough to perhaps notice the change.
That was the theory he was sticking with for now. Odd things have surely happened to him that could make him believe otherwise, but again, really no proof to suspect anything else of the man.
"On-board the Aquila, we have sailed along the coast and the Caribbean Sea during the war, mainly to survey the trade routes and make sure vessels traveled through the waters safely," Connor explained. He put that information lightly, there was obviously more to the stories than that.
"...This is my first time in Nassau, however. I have heard many tales of this place; how pirates had called this place home. I know it had changed since then."
no subject
Something Connor said threw him off, though, and he did betray his untimeliness by frowning in confusion, and asking, "Which war do you speak of?"
no subject
Nassau wasn't a part of America, but it was a place located in the Caribbean, which was very much affected by the war for independence. The Americans and British clashed in the sea, for one, but there were trade issues with innocent merchants often as well. This town was a place that would have had issues with and/or received goods from trade during the time, which has now included people for slave labor.
It caused Connor to raise a brow, where would this man have been to not know of the war? Far enough away for a time to not have recognized the economic growth could only excuse so much. If he made a return of any real extended length, which Connor could only assume was the case (considering the time it would take to write about the slavery, send the letter, and have Connor come this way to this exact location), he would have known by now of the war.
"The...war of independence from the tyranny of the British king within the thirteen colonies," he decided to simply answer and see what else the man did.