This choice: Jacob Frye (Victorian Era, London) • Go Back...Chapter #4Jacob Frye (Victorian Era, London) by: Chrisann   "Bloody piece of....!"
Jacob cursed before gritting his teeth irritably. Ever since his sister Evie had left London to hold meeting with the Assassin Council in India, Jacob had been left to handle the operations of their gang, the Rooks, unfortunately, that included the paperwork.
Shoving the large stack of paperwork aside, Jacob got up from his desk to clear his head, or sulk, as Evie would say.
"How she has the patience to do this is beyond me" he grumbled, pacing the floor of his personal train car. He looked out the window, watching as the grey smoggy buildings of Whitechapel rushed by. One of the plusses of having a train as a headquarters was the fact you could hop off and head to more interesting affairs at anytime, but despite temptation, the paperwork wasn't going to do itself.
"--Accountants are expensive, we can do it ourselves " mocked Jacob, before leaping onto the large couch opposite, laying back to stare at the ceiling, before taking a brief moment to scratch his balls in his trousers. "Honestly..."
Sighing, the roughish assassin then turned to look at the table next to him. On it was something very important, one of the Pieces of Eden, (powerful artefacts from a civilisation before humanity).
Evie had kept it hidden away, but Jacob felt it was safer where he could see it. After all, it was just a gaudy golden metal bauble shaped like an eye. Jacob picked it up and tossed it in the air, catching it, before examining it between his fingers.
"The Eye of Eden" he said aloud, in a condescending tone. Jacob had never been one for the ancient myths that were passed down through the order, and the fact that this relic looked like a cheep knick-knack from some curio shop didn’t convince him otherwise, but his sister seemed convinced it was still active.
“Not much to look at, are you”, continued Jacob, passing the artifact from hand to hand. He then turned it to look at the large crystal adorning its front, before rubbing some dust of with his thumb.
“Wish I knew what you do…” he mumbled.
Suddenly, the Eye began to glow. Jacob stared wide-eyed, with an expression between surprise and disbelief. Suddenly a sensation that could only be described as like having water and light funnelled into his head, made Jacob wince as he dropped the relic, letting it roll to the other side of the couch.
The glowing stopped. Jacob opened his eyes, panting, stunned at what just happened. He stared at the eye, wedged between the couch cushions. But it was no longer an unfamiliar bauble, but one he swore he knew his whole life. Every etching, every engraving, every mechanism inside. He knew what they all meant, how they all worked.
“You… you can change what people see…. what they are…. what they understand”, muttered Jacob. The Eye sat still, as if nothing ever happened.
Jacob cautiously picked up the Eye and got to his feet. Carefully holding the strange relic, he paced the car, before stopping at the mirror in front of him. He looked up at his reflection, thinking of what he could do.
“Well, change comes from within as they say. Where better to start with then myself”
Jacob looked at his appearance. Having just turned 23, Jacob always looked a little older then his age suggested, maybe it was the rough stubble that adorned his chiseled jaw line, or his thick dark eyebrows, the right knicked with a scar from when he was a boy, yet his brown eyes kept a youthful sparkle to them.
His body continued the illusion of an older man. Broad shoulders, a wide chest adorned with just enough chest hair, muscles toned and built throughout over a decade of training. All in all Jacob considered himself quite attractive, even down to the way he dressed.
Typically, Jacob never bothered with looking anything like a gentleman, opting for a flat cap to hide his slicked back brown hair and an old coat, with a shirt unbuttoned enough just to show off his lucky shilling necklace, and of course, the cleavage of his pecs.
But since he moved to London with his sister, he now boasts a more dapper ensemble; a fine gentlemen’s leather coat with quilted collar, a green paisley waistcoat underneath, his leather gear belt around his waist, his bracer and hidden blade on his left forearm. On his legs, Jacob now wore brown breaches and riding boots. He kept the shirt however as it suited him, but now wore a hat and cane when about (a sword concealed inside for combat).
“Still a handsome devil…” smirked the young assassin, stroking his stubbled jaw.
“You talking to yerself again laddie?”
A thick Scottish accent came from the other side of the car door, the voice belonging to Agnes, the train's owner and caretaker.
“Umm, no … now’s not really a good time Agnes” called out Jacob in the direction of the door.
“Ay, you got a girl in there, is she clean?”
“There’s no girl” he sighed in response, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, so it’s a laddie then, did na take you as the type” she cackled.
“Agnes, really?” Jacob scowled in the direction of the door.
“Ha, ha, am yanking ya chain ya wee daft. Ill leave you be Mr. Frye”
“If you’d kindly” replied Jacob with poorly veiled sarcasm. Jacob turned his attention back to the artefact.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to be bigger, stronger perhaps... maybe taller...”.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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