Spring Fling 2019: Day Six

Sneak Peek of what’s coming for Seven Days of Summer

Like Yusuf, he was pretty sure the tall black man, had Baptiste’s soul, and with it his voodoo fire.  So he wasn’t surprised when he attacked. As much as ‘Baptiste’ had the soul of an Assassin, and could channel some of his fighting skills … Callum was an actual Assassin.

The fight was short.

The good doctor lectured him as he was dragged out of the common area, that he shouldn’t fall back into his old ways, reminding him how far they had come.  That violence wasn’t the answer to all his problems.

“You do not have to give in to the urges.”  Her voice was soft, as if she was the nice teacher and the student should be thankful she wasn’t calling the Headmaster.

Callum looked at her, like she was insane … which in his theory she was.

“He attacked me, I defended myself.”  He pointed out, as he studied the Frye twin’s display.  

It was obvious they were taking some of the information from the game developers, they had the twins in the wrong year, close but not quite.  The imagery was off, they were far from being the same height, there was about a foot between them, but it said a lot about their skills that most believed they were similar in stature.  

They had Jake’s Top Hat, a wicked looking cane, and a set of brass knuckles that was embedded with ‘God Save the Queen’.  Considering the twins were very anti Monarchy, he doubted, at least, those were real. The Top Hat looked authentic, as did the cape they claimed was Evie’s.  Though she may have a say about the fact, they wrote her off, by stating she married the Indian Assassin Henry Green and moved to India.

He wanted to ask if the Templars were sexists.  Considering they ignored Evie’s role in the organization, didn’t have a display for Aveline, and they may have Shao Jun’s descendant, they had nothing about the Assassin herself.

The only real interesting section of the ‘Fake Hall of Fame’ as he was taking to calling it – was the display on Jack the Ripper.  

There was a nice written historical piece on how Jake worked with Abberline to bring down the Serial Killer.  He knew Jake had tangled with the famed killer, when he was still human, and Abberline was there to help, but considering the murdering psychopath was still roaming the streets today, they hadn’t actually ended his reign of terror.  

It wasn’t until he got to the end that he snorted.

‘The only reason Jacob Frye had helped the Detective was do to the fact it was discovered Jack the Ripper, was a Rook and an Assassin.  Proving the theory that the violent tendencies of Assassin’s were a threat to society. Jacob and Abberline worked to cover up the murders, and hide this piece of Assassin history.’

“Just because he attacked, didn’t mean you had to react in violence.”  She pushed, glancing at the display. “This just shows that teaching such violent behaviors only creates more violence.”

“I might want to point out, Doctor, that you actually kidnapped me.” He glared at her through the glass reflection.  “If I was as violent as you claim I am, I would’ve choked the life at ya’ by now.”

“But you haven’t, which shows that you aren’t inherently violent, it’s all learned behavior and can be relearned!”  She smiled at him, as if not killing her proved her point.

He turned towards her, hand clasped behind his back to keep himself from actually choking her to death.  “Yet you’re putting me in very violent Simulations, to get me to find an artifact that will stop humans from having violent behaviors.  Do you not see your own hypocrisy?”

“We do what must be done.”  Her lips thinned, not liking he was questioning her ‘life long work’.

“Aye.”  He smirked.  “Said every man who has ever killed, whether in defense or for profit.”

“You will see.”  Sofia nodded as if that was the end of the conversation, and considering they dragged him down the hall to the Simulation room … it was.

(These are new characters that will be coming to Sylum during Seven Days)

It started like this, with bacon. Bacon and toast; and more bacon. Okay, maybe that wasn’t true and he was just hungry and hated this part of the job. But, bacon. Which, when growing up,  Arthur could only eat when he wasn’t at home. It had started him down a road. That road may or may not have led him here exactly. But it was part of the problem right now; he would kill for a BLT. Hell, if he was going for it, the sandwich could have an over-medium egg and cheese. Instead he was sitting in an upscale, overpriced wine-bar watching for their next mark; and he had just switched his full wine glass with his partner’s empty one.

“Are you trying to get me pissed, darling? Make it easier to get me back to our room.”

“Absolutely.” Arthur’s reply was as dry and sarcastic as ever; and only caused Eames to grin at him.


Eames was sitting at a little bistro two blocks from their office when Arthur just sort of appeared and sat down across from him. Arthur who was supposed to be on a mission with Whitley.

“I may owe you an apology,” Arthur said, instead of a greeting as he sat down across from him. “Though, ‘she’s terrible’ was not the best of warnings.”

As far as detailed warnings went, Arthur had him there. But there was no words to accurately described what he thought about Whitley and not all of it was business related. He was normally good at providing information to Arthur but this time he hadn’t wanted to color Arthur’s job with his personal dislike for one of their team members just in case she could work well with him.

Eames just flagged down the waiter. “I would offer you something stronger, but the coffee here will just have to do; even if it’s not up to your standards.


Something had given him away though because Arthur risked turning to look at Eames directly while managing not to drive them into a ditch. “Eames?”

“Just get us to exfil.”

“Eames, are you hit?” And Eames heard worry in Arthur’s voice.

“Exfil, darling.”


Before Eames could say anything Arthur pulled him forward and kissed him. No acting involved, a kiss that curled Eames’ toes and ended to quickly.

“You need to go Mr. Eames.”

“Darling. Arthur.”

“One of us needs to stay back,” Arthur countered. “You need to go.”

Eames glared. “They are going to run you down hard.”

“Then I will lead them on a merry chase.”

As much as he wanted to stay, Eames left the building and didn’t look back. He was James Emerson, tourist from America when he boarded a flight to London.

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