MARKOS JANS ZOON
ASSASSIN
NOVICE
Lost in Paris, French skills are minimum, how bad could it get?
Posts: 13
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Post by MARKOS JANS ZOON on Mar 9, 2011 21:58:49 GMT -6
MARKOS JANS ZOON - Assassin – Novice – Dutch – ”FRENCH.” ----- ”DUTCH.”
Markos had to admit, he liked the smile that Jamellia wore. It was sincere and frequent, since coming to Paris; most people frowned at him or simply had a bored expression. And she smiled at the little things, even if it were embarrassing for him. Such as trying to put distance between himself and her girls. Jamellia spoke quickly and the girls dispersed, their interest being directed elsewhere. Markos breathed a sigh of relief and fiddled with the hilt of his sword. The young assassin rarely used the weapon but when he was nervous or unsure of what to do with his hands, they often gripped the hilt for something to do.
The woman that Jamellia had spoken to moments before hurried back in and spoke. Her eyes drifted briefly over the assassin and Markos shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. When he had spent the last three days not being noticed, he wasn’t quite at ease with the eyes on him. The attention did not last long though for Jamellia sent the woman on her way with an order and turned back to Markos. She motioned for him to follow him up the stairs.
There were several staircases on the way. The courtesan moved with ease through them all, completely comfortable in the strange environment. Markos stumbled along, sidestepping the patrons and girls that moved about. This place was utterly foreign for the Dutch assassin, he felt a mixture of awe at the sight and embarrassment at what was happening in the corners of the brothel. Deciding he would rather not think about it, Markos focused on the retreating figure of Jamellia and attempted not to lose track of the path they were taking.
She finally stopped at a door and swung it open. There in the room was a desk, cleared of work and instead sat food. A familiar pain of hunger filled Markos’ stomach but he resisted the urge to rush forward.
Jamellia entered the room first and started to flip through some documents that lied about. She then sat down and motioned toward the food, offering it to Markos. He sat down as well and was about to take something when she spoke. Her name and then her nationality. Did she want him to do the same? “Nederlandse.” He said and then paused. That was most likely not the term in French. For a few moments he struggled with what it was in Jamellia’s own language. He had learned it at some point but he was clueless of what it was. “Sorry, I cannot say in French.” He apologized, trying to figure a way to make it obvious to the courtesan. “Map?” The idea struck him and quite frankly, he was proud of it. On a map, he could point out the area, maybe then she would have an idea.
1. Nederlandse- Dutch
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Post by JAMELLIA ABIGIAL LEFEVRE on Mar 10, 2011 23:06:40 GMT -6
JAMELLIA ABIGIAL LEFERVE - Courtesan - Manager - She heard him say a word in his language, she didn’t know what nationality that was, this was going to be harder then she thought. She nodded her head as he apologized for not being able to say it in French, she raked her brain for ways to find it out but it stayed blank. She heard him speak again, why had she not thought of that? A map, what a brilliant idea, “Eat” she said as she got out of her seat walking over to the other side of the room, there a large map of France spread across the wall with red and black pins in it, only Jamellia knew what the pins represented.
She reached into the bookshelf next to the map pulling out a old torn book and had seen many years of use, she then moved to a container and pulled out several large rolled up parchment, she then turned to go to her desk forgetting it was covered in food, she paused wondering where to unroll the parchment, deciding on the floor as clearing the desk would take too much effort, she knelt down unrolling a large map, she hoped his country would be on this one as it was the one with the most landmass on it, if it wasn’t it would be unlikely that it would be on the others.
She placed the book she had on one corner of the map and returned to the shelf for three other books to pin down the other corners so it didn’t roll back up on them, she looked up at Markos from her kneeling position on the ground and smiled as she pointed to the map. She was excited she liked meeting foreign people, there way of life was so interesting as in little ways it was so different from the way she lived here. She liked to incorporate different nationalities in her brothel, she had a few girls from other countries, but not many, she planned to change that, the foreign girls were in high demand, something bout them seemed to turn men on just that much more.
She guessed it was probably there, accent and the aura they had about them it was just so, so attractive. She had to admit she liked Markos’s accent but she refused to ever let herself feel that way for another, ever since the death of her mother and Lucas she had cut herself of emotionally from everyone else, she would never let another get that close to her again, the pain was just to great when they left.
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MARKOS JANS ZOON
ASSASSIN
NOVICE
Lost in Paris, French skills are minimum, how bad could it get?
Posts: 13
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Post by MARKOS JANS ZOON on Mar 12, 2011 8:55:39 GMT -6
MARKOS JANS ZOON - Assassin – Novice – Dutch – ”FRENCH.” ----- ”DUTCH.”
Jamellia spoke and got out of her chair. Her motion towards the food made it apparent to Markos that he should eat. The Dutch assassin picked something that looked similar to a type of meat, he couldn’t quite recall the name, and put it in his mouth. It was good but he dearly missed the food from home. Chewing slowly, Markos leaned back in his chair as he watched Jamellia walk over to a bookshelf and started to pull out books and containers.
“Need help?” He asked, slowly putting the words together in his head. Before coming to Paris, he had no idea how hard it would be to communicate with the vocabulary of a child. He started over toward the courtesan but she had already placed the map down on the floor, spreading out the map on the floor and placing books down on the corner to secure it. On the face was a large picture of Europe, the countries scattered around. Jamellia kneeled beside it, looking up at his excitedly. Markos gave a tentative smile as he settled down beside her, his eyes scanning the map.
At this point, Markos had to admit that his trust for Jamellia was growing. She was genuine, something he hadn’t seen in Paris at this point. She smiled and was interested in him, and the young assassin hoped it wasn’t only because of his assassin’s robes. She was also the only person that seemed to offer help. At this point, before Jamellia, all the French had turned their noses to the young assassin.
Finally Markos spotted his home, it was tiny when situated France and the Holy Roman Empire. While the Netherlands was not France’s neighbor, they bordered Austria which touched France’s northern border. He was here to be sure that whatever rebellion happened here didn’t spread to the Netherlands.
With a smile, Markos pointed to the small country. “Les Pays-Bas.” He said slowly, trying to sound out the French that was written on the map. A ache pulled at the assassin’s chest, he wanted to go home something fierce. Paris was beautiful but it held nothing for Markos, especially without his brothers. Back in Holland, there were people speaking his language, friendly especially when Markos was clad in his assassin’s robes. Here, none of that seemed to happen, especially when he couldn’t speak French. “That is home.” He added, removing his finger from the map to avoid ruining it. “And you are from Frankrjik.” He added in Dutch, a finger pointed toward France. He smiled at the fact that he could use his language and still be understood to an extent.
1. Les Pays-Bas- The Netherlands (French) 2. Frankrjik- France (Dutch)
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Post by JAMELLIA ABIGIAL LEFEVRE on Mar 14, 2011 5:05:52 GMT -6
JAMELLIA ABIGIAL LEFERVE - Courtesan - Manager - She watched as Markos moved towards her smiling a sort of shy and unsure smile, she smirked and looked down at the map as he kneeled down beside her, she turned to look at him his eyes scanning the map. She liked him but only in a friendly way, he was interesting and kinder then the assassins from France, most of them thought themselves better then the common folk and hardly gave them a passing glance unless they needed something and almost demanded it if they did need something, she knew Maximius would not be helping her if Lucas had not asked him to.
Every now and then you would come across a nice assassin, like Lucas but it was rare. Markos was one of those rare assassins; she hoped the brotherhood here would not corrupt him. She snapped out of her thinking as she saw him smile, she followed his finger as he pointed to a small region on the large map “Les Pays-Bas” she repeated after him nodding her head showing that he had said it correctly. She smiled at him as he said that it was his home, he was a long way away, now that she knew where he was from, she wanted to know why he was here, now that was going to be a lot harder to find out with his limited French.
She watched as he ran his finger across to France, “Frankrjik, France” she said copying him by putting her finger on France as she said it then moved it over the Netherlands “Nederlandse, Les Pays-Bas” she said saying it in both French and Dutch, she smiled proud of herself for remembering it, although her heavy French accent did make it sound odd.
She rose to her feet moving over to her desk, she was getting hungry, she picked up a apple and bit into its rosy flesh, she turned walking over to the window to peer out as she thought of ways to communicate with him, it would take her awhile before she could find someone who spoke Dutch, it was not a common language in France, she would leave asking him about why he was here until she could communicate with him better, she walked over to the book shelf pulling out a book, she skilfully flicked through it without putting down her apple, she smiled as she found the page she wanted she walked over to him pointing at the picture of a bathtub “bath?” she asked, she knew he would probably be wanting one, he could finish eating while it was prepared, she would make sure to keep the girls away from him while he bathed.
Then there was the job of finding him a decent room, they did have one for the assassins when they needed it, so she guessed since he was one he could use it. She didn’t mind how long he stayed and she knew the girls wouldn’t mind either, she smirked at the thought, he was going to have to find ways to say no to the girls and get them to leave him alone if he ever wanted peace, no matter how much Jamellia told them to leave as soon as her back is turned, they will be after him like bees to honey. Here is France most assassins had a decent amount of money hence why the girls always make a bee line for them. She would have to teach him some words to say that is if he did not know them already.
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MARKOS JANS ZOON
ASSASSIN
NOVICE
Lost in Paris, French skills are minimum, how bad could it get?
Posts: 13
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Post by MARKOS JANS ZOON on Mar 15, 2011 15:28:20 GMT -6
MARKOS JANS ZOON - Assassin – Novice – Dutch – ”FRENCH.” ----- ”DUTCH.”
Markos shifted under Jamellia’s gaze. Despite the smile that graced her mouth, she seemed to be sizing him up, possibly comparing him to the French assassins? The novice knew that he in no way could compare to them. He already dreaded the idea crossing paths with one of the Order. His situation would be hard to explain, especially with the lack of French he knew, and to be at the hands of the French Order. The Dutch Assassin was sure they would not be fond of having an outsider among them. Markos silently wondered if Jamellia would speak to the assassin order. She may not even think that the Order has any idea of Markos’ existence. While Markos may be safe on the rooftops, if ever put into a close range battle with his brothers, he was sure to lose.
The Dutch assassin’s attention returned to Jamellia when she spoke. She echoed Markos’ words and he had to throw a hand across his mouth. Her French accent mutilated the Dutch words and the assassin had an overwhelming desire to laugh. It wasn’t polite though to laugh at a lady, especially when the mistakes were unavoidable. Then again, here he was butchering the French language. He had absolutely no right to laugh.
Jamellia stood, took an apple, and went over to her bookcase. Markos considered asking what she was doing but found it best to stay quiet. The less he had to use French, the less embarrassing his time here would be. Instead he picked through the fruit basket, unsure of what to take. Finally he too wrapped his fingers around an apple and started to eat. He would need to fill up; once he left the brothel, Markos had no idea when he would meet another kind stranger.
A French word brought Markos’ attention back to Jamellia. She held out a book so that Markos could see the picture on the page. Surrounded by French words that Markos had no hope of reading was the picture of a bathtub. The thought of hot water and being clean for the first time in a few days sounded wonderful to him. “Yes, thank you.” He spoke, his accent marring the French words as Jamellia’s French accent had with the Dutch.
A sense of relief washed over the assassin. In the way Jamellia was treating him was a sign that he may stay for a while. Until he found his brothers from the Netherlands, it was probably necessary. Paris was a large city, his fellow Dutchmen would be hard to find. The only problem was the girls. It wasn’t that Markos didn’t trust girls or didn’t like them; it was the matter of how uncomfortable they made him feel. Especially the girls that lived here, it would eventually drive him insane. This was probably the reason his cousins harassed him relentlessly.
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Post by JAMELLIA ABIGIAL LEFEVRE on Mar 17, 2011 4:31:37 GMT -6
JAMELLIA ABIGIAL LEFERVE - Courtesan - Manager - She smiled as he said thank-you a word she had not heard escape a assassins mouth for some time, that was until she met Markos, he was very polite, she admired that and couldn’t get over the fact that he was. She moved to the door opening it she turned to look at Markos “help you’re self” she said meaning the food; she didn’t know if he would understand, but it didn’t really matter he already knew he could eat any of the food on the table.
She turned and moved out the door closing it behind her, she needed to find Claudia, she moved to the banister looking over it she could see down into the main entrance way, there stood Claudia along with her three new girls, she smiled as they seemed excited about their first time out in the city, she moved down the stairs to join them “How did it go?” she asked them, the tallest of the three a brunette with a well shaped figure and amazing green eyes answered her question “It was wonderful, no way near as scary as we thought it would be and they paid well” she handed Jamellia a money bag that jingled with the sound of coins.
Jamellia smiled “that’s great news and once you pass you self defence class you can start to go out with the other girls” the girls smiled and walked off to the kitchen, Jamellia turned to Claudia [colorFF1FF8]“could you prepare a bath i the assassin room, make sure it clean and tidy and take the dinner to his room later tonight, nobody it to enter his room apart from me and you okay”
[/color] she said with the stern look also meaning that she better not try anything. Jamellia made her way back up the stairs, she growled as she noticed a group of girls lingering by the door to her office “what do you think you are doing?” she huffed, the girls looked up hearing Jamellia’s voice and quickly moved off, she opened the door to her office walking in and quickly closing the door behind her. {sorry super tired, not my best post} [/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]
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