London, 1868- Lambeth Borough

"Its all a game, Mr. Frye- you as the king, followed by your knights and your rooks- I am, naturally- the queen- with my own rooks and pieces to play and pawn. The difference is your choice of sending your pieces out in the open, laying your hand bare.... I like to keep my cards, and my pieces in the dark until the very last moment."

.:+:.

'The Leader of the Lambeth Borough is not like your regular Gang Leaders- who usually stay locked up within their fortresses, hidden in the deep corners of their districts and remaining unseen until they need to make an appearance. Cletus Strain is not afraid to face you, and will actively pursue you should you make enough fuss in Lambeth.

If you were looking to draw him out quickly- may I suggest assassinating Ada Cobleigh and her brother Clyde- otherwise known as the Lambeth Bullies. I believe they already have targets on their heads- as per Henry Green's request. Cletus is fond of these two- as they seem to enjoy maiming and gutting as much as he does. Kill them, and he may just make an appearance- giving you the perfect chance to strike him down.

If he doesn't- just go about killing his other associates (those you haven't already done away with of course), destroying his business, and sending his compatriots away with Frederick Abberline- anything and everything you can do to muck up his goings. He's sure to eventually seek you out, and make enough noise- you'll start a war, which works nearly just as well.

A bit on Cletus- for when you meet him- he seems to have a bit of a notch loose- sadistic, mad, whatever you'd prefer to call it. He's been known to play games with his victims, maiming and torturing before gutting them- he has no morals outside his own twisted ones, and will not hesitate to try and gut you.

I wouldn't expect him to be particularly hard to kill, at least- as long as you keep your wits about you. Given your previous exploits in WhiteChapel, I would say your odds against him are favorable- just don't get cocky.

Best of luck in your ventures, Mr. Frye.

~ (F/I)

... - Ah, another note Jacob- Cletus is fond of using Smoke Bombs, best not to be caught off guard.'

In neatly written script was the afore mentioned message he found to be on the note that (F/N) had given him in regards to his 'crusade', as she had put it.

In his terms, it was advice on his dealings trying to claim Lambeth from the Blighters- a venture he had been dedicating his time to since just before ever catching notice of the woman at all. Dealings, as it would seem, she was well are of already.

Well informed, isn't she?

He smiled to himself as he crouched on an overhang securely situated in the Cobleigh siblings territory. He slipped the note back into his pocket, feeling the other inside of it graze his fingers. He had yet to look that one over- nearly immediately upon reading the one detailing Lambeth and it's Blighter issue, he had set out to try and remedy it.

He would look at it later- probably after taking care of the rest of his business in Lambeth. He mat even attempt to track (F/N) down.

His smirked and stepped forward, eyes scanning the area as he tapped into those senses at the edge of his mind- trying to locate the Lambeth Bullies from the rest of the rabble. As per Henry's instructions, he wasn't to allow them to kill any more than 2 civilians in the area- that in itself called for haste, and it'd be better to not waste his time on anyone but his targets.

He lightly moved between the rooftops, catching a inkling sense of his targets somewhere farther into their territory- the close building making traveling undetected that much easier.

He ducked below the top of the roof, seeing a sniper standing along the platform attached to the edge- her back turned to him.

A quick snap a knife to the bottom of her skull and she slumped over, the gun clanking against the roof tiles and blood spilling.

He lightly made his way over the roof tiles, not even glancing down at the gore he had created and attention focused to those who he was after- a shimmer of gold catching his attention as he caught sight of two people dressed in red making their way around a line of frightened people, sneering as they flashed their knives and threatened to start cutting.

"Well well.... There you are." He smirked, twirling his kukri in his hand absentmindedly.

'Do not allow either of the siblings to kill more than 2 civilians, Mr. Frye.'

"As you wish Greenie."

He took note of the patrolling other Blighters in the area, counting out about a few dozen or so apart from his targets.

Ada strolled up toward a cowering man in rags, the gleam of her blade in hand as her brother stood just beside her, smiling as wickedly as his sister was.

"N-no... Please... I-i dont.... I don't wanna die...." The mam whimpered, pitiful really. She smiled wickedly, raising her blade.

"Go on, plead! I oh so love it when they beg." Ada sneered,

"It only makes it much more fun guttin' them, eh sister?" Clyde chuckled darkly.

Jacob frowned slightly, as he drew his hand into his pocket and pulled a smoke bomb out, tossing it a few times in his fingers before tossing it directly in front of Ada and Clyde, the area suddenly engulfed in a thick gray sheet as he jumped down from the low bearing roof, rolling as his feet hit the stone and submerging himself into the smoke without hesitation. The yells and shouts of those caught in the surprise rung around, their coughs and words nearly drowned by the hiss of the smoke.

The sudden interruption caused Ada to pause in her intended mutilation of the man held in her grasp- the rest of the frightened civilians took the sudden smoke as chance to run for their lives.

"What the bloody hell...?!"

Jacob shoved aside a Blighter planted in his path toward the siblings, his blade raising as he stepped up beside Clyde- who had turned around as if anticipating someone coming up to them. Without any vision, his eyes filled with tears from the smoke- he wasn't ready to block the blow that Jacob sent his way.

The younger Frye lodged his kukri into the chest of Mr. Clyde Cobleigh, blood spurting up from the wound and the sound of muscle and bone snapping- Clyde let out a pained yell as Jacob ripped his blade back out, a river of crimson rising up Clyde's throat as he fell to his knees, and moved no more.

Ada whipped about at the sound of her brother's cry, completely forgetting about her intended mutilation of the man in her grasp- who fell backward and scrambled away as quickly as he possibly could. Through the lessening haze she picked out Jacob's form, stepping the small distance between them and raising her blade- her face twisted into utter rage and anger.

"You damned bastard!!"

Her words suddenly cut off as Jacob's hand swung up toward her throat too fast for her to even begin to think about reacting. The shing of his hidden blade sliding from its sheathe sounded before the squelch of blood rose up and her throat ran red under his touch, the warmth and stickiness of the liquid gracing his fingers. Her blade clattered to the ground beside her as the light began to fade from her eyes.

"This is a calling card, Ms. Cobleigh- from the Rooks. You and you're Blighters are finished in Lambeth. Do tell your brother hello for me on the other side, won't you?" He smirked, as he let the blade retract and pulled away from her throat.

"You bloody baggart!"

"You're gonna pay for that!"

Jacob sighed slightly, hearing the rest of the Blighters begin to come to their senses as the smoke cleared entirely, and revealed him splashed in crimson with the bodies of Lambeth's Bullies at his feet. He twirled his kukri at his side, turning toward the numbers amassing around him and smirking.

He let out a short, loud whistle that rung on the air- leaving the Blighters in a small state of confusion.

"Fight if you wish, gents. Lambeth is going to be property of the Rooks- you have a choice though. Fight us, and die. Or, join us, follow me as a member of the Rooks as we retake London, for the good of everyone in it."

As he said the words the space around him began to trickle in green as his whistle brought forward the Rooks he had left waiting in hiding as he finished off the two leaders. His followers filled in around him, guns cocking and blades shinning in the early afternoon sun overhead. The Blighters started to back away, seeing they were quickly outnumbered.

"What'll it be, gents?"

.:+:.

What a bloody, terrific massacre.

You remained still, crouching on the end of an overlooking beam just across the street from the sight of Mr. Frye's exploits.

You hadn't been planning to drop by Lambeth today.... But the sudden stench of blood and the fury of rage and anger as the Rooks battled the Blighters had caught your attention- drawing you closer and closer to the man you had told yourself not to get too close to, too soon. It wasn't good to give into your fancies too often, they distracted from your duties- but the blood shed, the atmosphere of murder and death.... It was addicting, though you'd never admit it to anyone.

Your inner Assassin you supposed... Though the Brotherhood worked to keep evil at bay and the innocent safe, there were those among the Assassins who did their jobs more than for a sense of justice. It wasn't always morality, sometimes you just liked the excitement of battle, the sight of blood, the rush killing someone could bring.

It was something you enjoyed quite a bit.

Jacob's propensity for stirring up trouble and turmoil in London was one of the reasons you yourself was very interested in him. You rather liked how brash he was, and enjoyed how he jumped in and willingly stirred trouble instead of sticking to the shadows and staying away from the light of day like most Assassins chose to.

The area around the (now used to be) territory of the Lambeth Bullies- Clyde and Ada was now a battlefield. You could see their bodies slumped among many others need where the battle was. The cobblestone ran red with the blood spilled, the air rang with shouts and shots fired off from Blighters and Rooks alike. Jacob and his Rooks had the upper hand, but the Blighters were fighting back valiantly.... So much death, the bodies lying about, the pain, the carnage, the burning passion of conflict.

The way he continued to smirk as he tore through the ranks continually, all skill he had accumulated over years of training suddenly clear as he evaded and countered blow after blow. As he sent Blighters to their final rests one after the other before striking out at the next nearest one, the chain of moving and spinning in between wriggling bodies, the slicing, the cutting, the jabbing and the stabbing. Those Blighters were very outmatched- but even sheer numbers could prove a challenge.

Which was clear- even from your perch you could see Jacob and his Rooks bleeding and bruised. They had taken hits, as to be expected- but even that was nothing to them in the rush of the fighting.

You took a little pleasure in the idea that Mr. Frye had taken your advice in targeting the Cobleigh Siblings in order to get to Cletus. You enjoyed the idea he had listened to you- and the idea that you'd had a small part in stirring the conflict here now.

Seeing how many Blighters kept amassing in the area so quickly- you could only assume your reasoning behind telling Jacob to kill the siblings was very likely to hold weight.

Jacob certainly seemed to have a knack for causing a riot.

Your attention snapped from watching Jacob in his heated bloodshed toward the carriage that slammed to a halt just below you, immediately interested in the several others filled with more reinforcement's for the Blighters.

Your eyes narrowed, your body tensing slightly as a small inkling of tenseness and danger fell over you a moment, small flashes of red dotting the edges of your vision as you focused on the carriage- and more specifically on whoever was inside of it.

Your fingers gripped about the small knife in your hand a little more tightly as a large, bulky man jumped from the carriage, humming to himself a tune, a most dark and malicious look on his face as he turned toward the conflict.

Cletus...

"Ms. (L/N)?"

Your attention snapped to the sudden voice and the sound of footsteps over the roof behind you, though your eyes never left the new arrival of Cletus, not even for a moment.

You recognized the voice immediately, knowing that if you turned you'd see a young man in simple dress, his hat trimmed in silver and bearing a strange marking of the same color on his shoulder- that of a tower wrapped in scrolls. With his fair brown hair and young face, and quiet hazel eyes- his lip bearing a small scar. You were well used to the sight, and knew his look without even needing to physically see him.

You payed no mind and simply raised a hand, signaling for him to stay put and quiet a moment. You'd been expecting him of course, but now your attention was far from your previous duties.

"You're going to have to excuse me for awhile, Hector." You said calmly, climbing to your feet and twirling your knife once in your hand, eyes still remaining fixed to Cletus as he moved over toward the battle, his new swath of Blighters around him.

You shouldn't be interfering.

Is that not part of my duty here in London, however?

You should stay away, let Mr. Frye handle his own business.

But Cletus is some of my business.

Not anymore.

And what of Jacob? Is he of no concern to me?

He shouldn't be.

But he is- as a fellow Assassin.

Is that really all of it?

You smiled slightly at yourself, the rational and irrational side of your mind battling with one another.

You were meant to only meddle in things that needed your true and immediate attention. You were meant to collect information and pass it along- and to stay away from gaining yourself attention while doing it. You weren't supposed to involve yourself in true conflict, let yourself be seen and draw too much attention. You weren't supposed to meddle in the business of others unless you really needed to.... Jacob may not really need your help here, but at the same time you paused.

Cletus.... Well, he was on your list.

I simply want to see what happens.

You won't sit still, you know that.

Maybe not... But he won't see me. He doesn't need to.

You twirled the knife again and smirked,

"But I very much wish to see how this goes. I'll find you once Cletus lies dead." You glanced over your shoulder for a fleeting moment, seeing the surprise and confusion on Hector's face.

You looked away and swiftly climbed down, from hand hold to hand hold before your feet hit the street- and you slunk across to the other side, avoiding being noticed by those rushing toward the battle, your attention remaining fixed to Cletus- easily able to pick him out for the words he continued to mumble under his breath.

There is no need for Mr. Frye to know I was ever here.

You slipped down an alleyway close to the area of bloodshed, sprinting and jumping up boxes before grasping onto a beam spanning the alleyway, making your way toward the top of the building and over to the edge, searching again and immediately finding Cletus as he entered the field.

Jacob noticed the arrival of Lambeth's leader immediately, you noted. His keen eyes making their way through the turmoil and the movement to lock on to the same man you so intently gazed toward.

Something raw and powerful inside of you shouted at you to toss the knife toward Cletus, lodge it into his spine and swoop down to finish him with a killing blow. There was a sudden rise of anger and hatred toward the man inside of you, the sort of pure emotion you usually wouldn't allow yourself to feel- for good reason.

It wasn't that Cletus was on your list of people to watch and collect information on. Those people didn't elicit such strong emotion from you, ever.

The anger and rage you had kept hidden away inside of you, the emotions trying to tear toward the surface, these were different. They were driven by something different entirely and you couldn't remember the last time you felt yourself getting so worked up, so fast.

You growled a little as you pressed your thumb against the edge of the knife you had on hand- the rational side of you fighting to win over the sudden surge and bloodlust building deep inside.

You could not let such emotions run free. It was bad for business.

Your scarlet blood dripped from the edge of the knife, splattering against the roof tiles as the blade split the flesh on your finger, and the anger rising inside suddenly simmered down with the pain.

You could not act rashly.

But oh, you wanted to....

"So you're the bugger stickin' his nose in places ya don't belong?" Cletus' voice rose above the rabble and the shouting. Jacob pulled his blade from the chest of his latest victim and turned toward the direction of the Lambeth Borough Master, eyes narrowed and glinting as he started to walk toward him.

"You and you're damned Rooks have been a big pain in my arse." Cletus hissed, continually tossing a smoke bomb in his hand. "And now I see you've gone and killed my two favorites."

"I had hoped it would draw you out, Cletus." Jacob called, smirking slightly. "I heard word that you were fond of those two." Cletus narrowed his eyes at Jacob, the smoke bomb falling into his palm and laying still.

"And where did you hear that?" Cletus growled,

"A friend." Jacob replied easily, the reply catching you slightly off guard a moment.

Friend?

He didn't think that... He just said it to piss Cletus off. Cheeky man.

None the less you couldn't help but smirk slightly, before it faded and you felt Cletus was about to move- an unexpected tenseness overcoming you a moment.

Not that you weren't sure Jacob couldn't handle himself, you were sure he could. He had managed to strike you in your small brawl against him, which was no easy thing for anyone to do.

It was just that you knew Cletus, and you knew there was a screw loose in that head of his. And sometimes it was the screwy ones you had to be wary around.

No interrupting!

Don't have to tell me twice... I know, I know....

You shook your head slightly, perhaps you had a screw loose yourself.

"Pity your 'friend' didn't have the decency to warn you against sticking your nose in my business." Cletus growled, earning an amused smile from Jacob, not all att perturbed by the threat.

"Prepare to die, boy!"

The area was completely swathed in smoke, too much for a single bomb- Cletus must have thrown two or three all at once. Your eyes narrowed as you scanned the area below you, the Blighters and the Rooks stumbled from the smoke, coughing and spluttering as they abandoned all conflict for a moment or so. Your eyes remained fixed to the swirling mass of gray and white, trying to catch sight of Cletus and Mr. Frye alike.

You closed your eyes a moment, hearing the hiss of Cletus throwing down a few more bombs to thicken the cover.

You hoped Jacob had been prepared for the tactic, you had warned him- and knew very well Cletus used smoke as a cover to disorient his victims, slow them down, and he struck hard and fast- brutally. Jacob must use Smoke Bombs himself, so he should be fairly used to fighting in such conditions.

You hoped that was the case, for his sake. You weren't going to allow yourself to jump in, he was on his own.

But you wanted to watch none the less.

You went still, your eyes shut and breathing slowing down to almost nothing. All your focus went to searching yourself deeper, to concentrating on one of the things that made Assassins true Assassins... Something not everyone in the Brotherhood was privy to.

Your eyes opened slowly, the noises of the world seemingly dimming around you as the world swathed itself in grey- the smoke ceased to hinder your vision as the faintly glowing crimson visage of Cletus became clear to you, and the faint turquoise glow of Jacob as well.

You smiled just a little, to see Jacob wrestling with Cletus furiously. His fist swung out to catch Cletus across the jaw, sending the man stumbling backward.

Jacob advanced, slamming a fist into the man's stomach and beating him over and over again, wearing him down and stabbing amd slashing where he could. Cletus managed a few hits of his own, fairly matched with Jacob as he landed blows after the beating he kept enduring. You would have said Jacob had the upper hand, but not before your focus switched from him- toward the red figure of another Blighter near the edge of the smoke- gun raised and attention most assuredly locked to Jacob, whose eyes never left Cletus.

BAM!

You winced as the shot rung on the air, eyes widening a little to see Jacob swing around, letting a small shout of pain escape his lips before grasping into his arm tightly, teeth grinding at the pain of the ball tearing the flesh. One of his Rooks swept up behind the shooter, his gun raised to the head and firing off a single shot before they fell dead.

You knew that hurt, like hell.

And Cletus took the opportunity straight away, the gleaming of his own blade as he swept up behind Mr. Frye and lift it- looking to plunge the end into his back while the pain of getting shot distracted him for a moment. Cletus' face pulled into a twisted grin as a darker glint came into his eyes, a look you recognized nearly too easily.

Your body went still, eyes narrowed and body tense. Things had turned in a moments time, the table turned- and you hadn't been expecting it- and neither had Jacob.

You cannot interfere!

.:+:.

BAM!

He heard the shot ring out but it was too late to try and move out of the bullet's path, at least- not entirely. What little movement he managed landed the ball in the top of his right arm, tearing the flesh away and destroying his coat as his blood fell to join the already running red street.

Pain seared through him and the world around him whirled a moment, the impact knocking him off balance and making him spin, he grasped the arm, teeth gritted and hissing under his breath.

He had been faintly aware of that Blighter aiming toward him- but failed to react in time to avoid the shot. He took small solace in the fact he heard a second shot go off- and knew one of his Rooks had done what he would have, and killed the bastard.

A swell of anger rose inside of him, knowing he had the upper hand and suddenly- all the fast paced movement and skill he had been throwing every which way was suddenly gone. His flow of movement had been completely shattered, and his edge over Cletus disintegrated.

He didn't realize just how quickly he had lost his footing in the battle until the hair on the back of his neck began to stand, and a sudden seriousness fell over him, making his heart leap a little. His ears caught onto the low, menacing chuckle that Cletus let out, knowing there was a twisted grin on the man's face as he stepped toward him- as Cletus lift his blade and prepared to strike him down before he had time, or enough sense to trun around, or try to evade the blow.

A blow that would hurt more than the shot in his arm, a blow that would probably kill him.

"Looks like yer lucks run out ya bloody bastard!!!"

Jacob turned just in time to see Cletus nearly on top of him, knowing he was about to be in for a world of pain- but Cletus stopped suddenly.

The man let out painful yelp as he stumbled, forgetting about his endeavor of attempting to kill Jacob- his arm fell as he tried to reach around, searching for whatever had seemed to set him off as he stumbled, almost drunkenly. The man's eyes went wide, lighting up in pure pain and sudden shock- Jacob's brows furrowed together, unsure what had happened to cause such a sudden turn in events....?

His eyes immediately landed on the glint of a blade lodged into the base of Cletus' back, the fabric of his shirt running a shiny crimson from the expertly thrown blade- it seemed to have punctured some valuable organ and was bleeding profusely enough to immediately be sending Cletus off balance.

Where in the hell... Did that come from...?

"The... Bloody... Ell....?" Cletus gasped, still grasping at the blade futilely, fingers flailing.

Jacob snapped himself from his shock, bringing his kukri up and advancing- at least now he had enough sense to move while he had the chance, one given to him it would seem.

Whatever, or whoever threw that knife.... They had kept him from getting a blade to the back.

How fortunate... Could it have been one of my Rooks?

He pushed the question from his mind and swiftly brought his kukri forward, plunging the blade into the chest of Cletus, while also shoving his hand and his Hidden Blade into his throat with tremendous force- pulling both blades from the man as he shoved backward and fell to the stone, letting out one last sigh of pain, his eyes lighting in terror and rage- before he was still.

Jacob stopped a moment, noticing faintly those left of the Blighters started to flee with the death of Cletus. He continued to hold his injured arm, hardly perturbed by the blood covering nearly every inch of his person. His eyes remained fixed to Cletus as he slowly dropped down into a crouch, moving the man aside slightly to retrieve the small blade sticking from his back.

It was not unlike the ones that he and his sister used, those small, sharp blades they used to throw and catch enemies off guard and unawares. The only difference was the sharpness of the blade, of the dark hue of the metal. It was light in his hand, and the edge was so fine he felt he'd cut himself simply tapping it.

His dark gaze moved from the knife as he turned to sweeping the area, trying to pinpoint precisely where it could have come from. Whoever had thrown it had done so with purpose, with skill. They were quick, they were precise- easily able to hit Cletus as he had been moving rapidly, and clearly whoever it had been had quite the bit of skill.

But who? And why? To save him perhaps...?

His eyes narrowed, first scanning the street, then the dark corners, and then the rooftop.

He let out a small 'hmm', slowly standing up and running his finger along the broad end of the blade absentmindedly.

"Mr. Frye, are you alright?" A man in Rooks uniform asked, coming to a halt not far from him.

"... Yes lad. Just fine." Jacob replied, placing the blade in his pocket and turning toward the man, a small smile gracing his lips despite his questions swirling in his head.

"Not to worry, Lambeth is ours now." He said, addressing every Rook in earshot.

"For us, for the Rooks!"

"For London!"

"Our Families!"

.... And to me, my life spared, by whoever threw this knife.....

As the Rooks about him rose their voices in chorus, his eyes moved toward the top of a nearby roof, for whatever reason, of all the places that knife could have come from- it was that lone spot, on that edge of that building... It was almost as if he could see a shadow, a shimmering figure there for a moment before it was gone.

Who is it, this knife belongs to, hmm?

He smirked slightly, eyes glinting in amusement.

Perhaps her...?

He chuckled, quite sure of his answer and very much amused by it.

".... You couldn't stay away either, could you, love?"

.:+:.

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