paradisa | eleventh. written.

Entry tags:

connor (ratonhnhaké:ton)

eleventh. written.

Today I have been in this place for a year. There is still much I do not understand about its ways as well as the ways of the people who live here, including all of you. There are times where I think I am adjusting, where I think I am understanding, but then something happens and it is clear that I am not.

I am not sure if I will ever understand.

[friends + Assassins]
There is a man here now by the name of Haytham Kenway. Treat him as genially as you like, but I warn you not to trust him. - Connor

[Assassins + Maria Thorpe - Edward Kenway]
He is a Templar. I do not ask for favours lightly, but I will ask you this: Do not kill him for this fact only; there is no point in this world. - Connor

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Wh-- nyet, no, I mean what kinds of things does she like? Her hobbies, favorite colors, things like that.

[Favourite colour?]

Um... she likes to eat, I think, she is always having me try foods. And she is interested in battle. Sparring, things like that.

And why are you giving her a gift?

She is my friend and she has died. She should be returning soon, and I thought perhaps she would like a gift.

Ah. Well, perhaps avoid any weapons, given the circumstances. Perhaps bring her chocolates, if she likes foods.

Are you certain?

[Because he's not so sure chocolate is that great...]

Flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals... those are traditional gifts in these situations. Or if there is another food she particularly cares for, that is another choice.

There is a traditional gift for one who has come back from the dead?

Well, traditional gifts for people who are sick. I figure they are close enough.

I suppose you are right. There are animals here now, so I may be able to find one, though I do not know if I will have its hide cured in time.

[Stop him. Please stop him.]

What flowers would you suggest?

Connor, what -- no, nyet, do not kill anything. Stop thinking whatever you are thinking. Just... just get her roses.

[Chicks dig taxidermy???? That's what he got from this.]

Alright. Where may I find some? Do you know?

[THAT IS NOT WHAT SHE MEANT BY STUFFED ANIMAL]

Maybe in the glasshouse? I have no idea where roses might grow wild here, perhaps you should wish for some.

[Maybe Molotov should introduce him to stuffed animals, then. Just sayin.]

I would not want to steal... and I do not know if wishing would be as meaningful. I will search and if I cannot find any, perhaps I will do this.