i. remember the ratatouille scene with the critic?
[Edward hasn't celebrated St. David's Day in, Jesus, how long's it been, years? Like Christmas and Valentine's Day and all other holidays and feast days, the whole thing had simply slipped his mind out on the open sea. Now that he's on land and is going to stay there for the foreseeable future, he's venturing out of Auguries of Innocence to see what's going on and is smacked in the face with a sudden bout of homesickness.
It hasn't been this strong in, god, a while now, actually. But Edward hasn't been confronted with such a display of his home's goods in a while. He'd thought he'd long gotten past this, but hey! Apparently not! Apparently it was just lying under the surface all this time waiting for him to settle down somewhere for more than a couple of weeks to punch him in the face harder than a drunken thug in the middle of a bar brawl.
And he knows how hard those guys punch.
He wanders over to the cawl first, followed by a Kingler and a Tatsugiri and a blue-white-yellow catke. On top of the catke is a rat with a chef's hat, clearly keen on watching the food being made, and little adorable Yarny is riding atop Edward's shoulder. This little group makes for a very, very strange crowd, and if you're looking for Edward today, you might be able to find him surrounded by his pets, seated at a counter with food right in front of him, looking outright stunned.]
...damn. This is—this is exactly how I remember it.
ii. coming outta my cage and i've been doing not good at all going back in my cage now actually | tw drinking
[Edward is going to blame that weird Latin-named goth forever for this. He'd run into the fellow while the guy was figuring out what to do about an excess of fish sandwiches, and fool that he was, Edward had cheerfully offered to take one off his hands.
If he'd known that fucking sandwich would give him the world's strangest dream of being an Assassin in some frozen hellscape in Alaska (how does he even know what an Alaska is), he would've chucked it into the lake right in front of the man. Alas, he didn't, and now he has to deal with memories of cold and exhaustion and the near-certainty of doom hanging over his head mixed with warmth and kindness and a bone-deep care for everybody else around him. And with the appearance of the necklace with Jenny and his still-unnamed son's faces in it, Edward has decided...
...to get fucking drunk about it.
He'll get his shit together later. For now, though, he can be found in the Vogue's bar with bottles of various alcoholic stuff, a few of them smelling distinctly like his own terrible swill, staring into a mug full of something horribly alcoholic.]
..."nothing is true, everything is permitted." [He says that to himself, mostly, but looks up now at whoever's next to him.] I heard a friend of mine say that, once. I used to think I had it figured out. Now—I don't bloody know, anymore. [Taking a swig of his drink.] What do you think it means?
Edward Kenway | Assassin's Creed
[Edward hasn't celebrated St. David's Day in, Jesus, how long's it been, years? Like Christmas and Valentine's Day and all other holidays and feast days, the whole thing had simply slipped his mind out on the open sea. Now that he's on land and is going to stay there for the foreseeable future, he's venturing out of Auguries of Innocence to see what's going on and is smacked in the face with a sudden bout of homesickness.
It hasn't been this strong in, god, a while now, actually. But Edward hasn't been confronted with such a display of his home's goods in a while. He'd thought he'd long gotten past this, but hey! Apparently not! Apparently it was just lying under the surface all this time waiting for him to settle down somewhere for more than a couple of weeks to punch him in the face harder than a drunken thug in the middle of a bar brawl.
And he knows how hard those guys punch.
He wanders over to the cawl first, followed by a Kingler and a Tatsugiri and a blue-white-yellow catke. On top of the catke is a rat with a chef's hat, clearly keen on watching the food being made, and little adorable Yarny is riding atop Edward's shoulder. This little group makes for a very, very strange crowd, and if you're looking for Edward today, you might be able to find him surrounded by his pets, seated at a counter with food right in front of him, looking outright stunned.]
...damn. This is—this is exactly how I remember it.
ii. coming outta my cage and i've been doing not good at all going back in my cage now actually | tw drinking
[Edward is going to blame that weird Latin-named goth forever for this. He'd run into the fellow while the guy was figuring out what to do about an excess of fish sandwiches, and fool that he was, Edward had cheerfully offered to take one off his hands.
If he'd known that fucking sandwich would give him the world's strangest dream of being an Assassin in some frozen hellscape in Alaska (how does he even know what an Alaska is), he would've chucked it into the lake right in front of the man. Alas, he didn't, and now he has to deal with memories of cold and exhaustion and the near-certainty of doom hanging over his head mixed with warmth and kindness and a bone-deep care for everybody else around him. And with the appearance of the necklace with Jenny and his still-unnamed son's faces in it, Edward has decided...
...to get fucking drunk about it.
He'll get his shit together later. For now, though, he can be found in the Vogue's bar with bottles of various alcoholic stuff, a few of them smelling distinctly like his own terrible swill, staring into a mug full of something horribly alcoholic.]
..."nothing is true, everything is permitted." [He says that to himself, mostly, but looks up now at whoever's next to him.] I heard a friend of mine say that, once. I used to think I had it figured out. Now—I don't bloody know, anymore. [Taking a swig of his drink.] What do you think it means?