Thrill of the Hunt (New York)

Strolling through the poverty stricken district of New York, Henry Jackman searched for any signs of the latest assassin operation. It was early morning, when henry walked up to a local news agent "Have you seen any hooded menaces about?" he asked the agent, after shooting him a threating look, whilst pointing to his short sword. "no.. no sir" the officer replied with fear in his eyes "I was never here." with that Henry turned away and walked off.  "Disgusting beings."
He was told almost nothing about this job, aside from to watch out for three assassins, Michael Gray, Danilo Morez and the most threating, Hannah Le Henaff.
Henry desperately ventured to the market. The market was quiet this morning, no more than 70 people maximum. He found a small, rotting wood bench. Henry sat down and waited, praying his large scar would not give away his cover, with hopes some leads might arise, or he may find an assassin to interrogate.

Hannah stood as menacingly as she could over the courier in the darkened alleyway, despite the fact that he had a good 4 inches on her height. "Look, just give me the information and you're free to go," she muttered in annoyance. Honestly, Hannah didn't kill off innocent civilians; the man had no reason to fear her even in the slightest. Still, he was skeptical, and shot off into the market square. Hannah cursed under her breath and sprinted forwards, weaving through the crowd to follow the man.
The courier attempted to lose Hannah by sliding underneath a broken fence and into an alley, occasionally glancing behind himself to see if the assassin was still following him. And she was; her blonde locks tumbled out from underneath her hood as she sprinted forward, her cream-colored robes billowing out behind her. She used her momentum to quickly scale up the side of a small building and follow him from up there. Hannah took a sharp turn and poised on a beam that protruded outwards, before launching down onto the man, effectively tackling him. She quickly retrieved the information, then held her hidden blade to his neck. "This is a warning. Do not say anything, or I will find you again."
Walking away, Hannah sighed and dusted off her robes slightly. This was just another average morning for her.

Henry  looked up to see a two figures running in the distance."Perfect" Henry said with a smile. He began to silently move through the crowd, flowing in this sea of peasants. He noticed the blonde figure elegantly scale a small building with finesse. Henry Spied a boy selling news paper, he had brown hair and was rather lanky for his size. Henry approached him and purchased a paper. He then returned to the building the blonde had chased the courier up and leant against the wall of an opposing building. He silently watched the event unfold. As the blonde walked off, Henry quickly reached the courier.
"Why was she after you!?" The  courier crawled back a few feet. " I asked you a question swine!!" Henry said as he slammed his foot into his side. "I won't tell you anything! I'm sick of you assassins! Hiding out in the rich district, thinking no one knows your there! I hope you all die!"
The courier replied as he spat on henry. "Disgusting filth." Henry plunged his hidden blade strait into the mans gut, leaving the blade inserted, then twisting it a bit. Henry suddenly regrated this as the courier yet out a high pitched scream. Henry quickly reached into his pouch and grabbed a pink rose, Placing it on his left shoulder. He needed to escape, as the scream may have attracted attention.

Hannah’s head whipped up at the sound of the anguished scream, which sent a cold shiver down her spine. Even though her profession entailed killing regularly, taking someone’s life was something she would never face with indifference. Hannah swiftly pivoted on her foot and turned back down the alleyway, peeking around the corner of a building. “Oh merde,” she cursed in French and rushed forward to inspect the body.
It was the courier from earlier, the one she threatened. She knelt down, her eyes scanning the body on the ground. There was a stab wound in his lower abdomen; something discreet and quick, meant to be hidden from sight. The kill would have been pretty low-key, if the courier hadn’t screamed. Hannah picked up the delicate rose between her fingers, and then dropped it as if it had burned her. The rose drifted onto the pool of blood, the veins of the petals soaking up the red liquid. It was like a hit man’s mark—and it both disturbed and angered her.
Hannah’s analysis of the corpse was quick and efficient, which meant that the killer had to be nearby. She ran to the end of the alleyway, her eyes surveying the scene and looking for anyone suspicious. And then she caught a glimpse of him—and he was an imposing figure. The man was dressed in a dark chestnut coat with sleek black hair, and he was tall and well-built. Clearly capable of killing. Hannah’s anger got the best of her, and she shouted at him,”Hey!” before attempting to catch up to him.

Henry heard the angry shout and turned to greet the blonde assassin. "Yes? What would you like?" putting on the best friendly face he could muster. As he walked closer to her he could tell she knew what he had done. He quickly reached into his pouch and took a handful of sand, then flung it into her eyes.
He quickly attacked her, but barely did any damage aside from a light stab in her left shoulder. She screamed as he wounded her. "Damn it!" He angrily ran off and quickly made his way to the market, where he blended into the crowd to disguise himself.

"Yes? What would you like?" Hannah saw right through his friendly facade; but it was obvious that he could tell, for he threw sand in her direction as he got closer. Temporarily blinded, Hannah staggered backwards and rubbed her eyes. She grimaced and a yell ripped through her throat as a sharp pain erupted in her left shoulder. By the time the irritation had left her eyes and she found her bearings once more, the man was gone. "Bastard!" she muttered, while clutching her left shoulder to staunch the flow of blood.
Hannah looked into the market area, but he was nowhere to be seen. For some reason, this guy made her feel very uneasy; whether it was the way he readily smiled at her in disguise, or his dirty way of fighting, she couldn't tell. Hannah, as swiftly as she could without irritating her shoulder, made her way to the nearest inn and quickly paid for a room,  slamming down coins on the countertop. Once she was in her room, she wrapped her shoulder in gauze. The stab wound wasn’t severe, but it was enough to be painful and inconvenient.
Deciding that the pain could be numbed, Hannah made her way downstairs to the tavern. She sat down at a table near the back and a woman came by. “What can I get for ye, lass?” She asked, an Irish accent clear in her voice. “Just an ale, thanks.”

Henry had just escaped the markets, and decided to investigate this mysterious blonde woman at the local general stores. He reached one jut near the docks, thinking to himself, he pondered why this woman was here. Was she part of the latest assassin movement or was she a free agent, looking for a quick buck? Either way she was a threat. As he entered the general store he looked right into the eye of the shop keeper and closed the door calmly. He could tell the man feared him. The shop keeper was staring right at is scar. His eyes announced fear. Henry drew his sword and pointed it at the mans throat. "You. Swine. I want you to tell me about a beautiful blonde woman whose been working near here. Very slim and fit. Have you seen her?" "I... I.. Saw her in enter an inn earlier but I might be wrong... please... don't hurt me" "thank you. You may continue breathing." And with that he lowered his sword. "Guards! Help!" Henry swiftly silenced the man with a flick of his wrist. Blood sprayed intensely over his face. He smiled lightly. With that he walked out the door, dropping a rose on the floor.  
To the closest inn, then. He thought to himself, as he took to the street.

Due to the fact that Hannah had no pressing matters at the moment, she allowed herself to relax a little bit in the tavern. It felt nice,just for once, to sit down without the worry of someone sneaking up behind her and slitting her throat. She had taken care of any chance of that, for she sat in the back and was able to see everything in her field of vision. Hannah's hood was down, and she was now nursing a cup of heat tea. She had had one ale, and that was good and fine, but she'd never let too much alcohol get into her system for fear of her guard being let down.
And as much as she tried to relax, one thing kept creeping back into her thoughts and distracting her: that man she had an encounter with earlier. His eyes just seemed so cold and heartless, like they were seeing right through her. Hannah shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the thought of them. At that moment, a heavily intoxicated man stumbled up to her table and attempted to string words into a sentence. "Darling, y-you look like, you need a man," his friends laughed hysterically at his drunken state. Hannah stared up with him with steely eyes and with a flick of her wrist, she said, "I suggest you leave, or I'll unman you." The drunkard,at seeing her hidden blade, paled and stumbled away while Hannah just smirked to herself.

Henry entered the first tavern he could find. stepping into the tavern, he was instantly overcome by all the people. Everyone singing, drinking, having fun. He could not understand it. His head began to spin. She had to be in here, but where? He stumbled over to the quietest area he could find, to the far left of the building. He gazed about, looking for the assassin. Flicking his eyes left to right, up and down. Despite his best effort he could not make out anyone of importance. The only men that drew his attention were a group of drunken idiots. One of them stood up, and made his way to a table near the back. He carefully inspected the table's resident. A slight hint of blonde hair caught his eye. moving closer, he started to suspect it was his little 'friend'. In a sudden movement she flicked her wrist and threated the drunkard.
Perfect.  
As he made his way towards her, a skimpily dressed woman called out to him. "hey there big boy, need a little.... company"
Ignoring the woman he tried to move closer. The whore suddenly kissed him. Henry, not knowing how to react, called upon his instincts. Henry flicked his wrist ad stabbed the woman in the chest. The warm blood slowly spreading and dripping on to the floor. The bartenders eyes were locked on him, then he yelled. "Murder!!"
the bar silenced.
He looked over to the assassin. waiting for her move.

Hannah’s eyes became cold and cruel as the accusation rang out into the air. In an instant, her eyes zeroed in on the man who had committed the crime; everyone backed as far away from him as possible. And of course it was the same mysterious man as earlier, and a shiver went down her spine as she saw him staring over at her with cold, unrelenting eyes. He was waiting for her reaction, as if testing her.
Hannah made to pull up her hood but then realized that the action wouldn't have any effect, for the man had already seen her true face. Hannah abruptly stood up from her chair. It was obvious that he had followed her here, and what with his capabilities and readiness to kill, it was clear that he was with a higher power. A quick glance down to his left ring finger confirmed her suspicions: the man was a Templar.
Hannah strode up to the figure as dignified as she could, with her chin held high and her jaw firmly set. It was a bit difficult to appear intimidating to someone who was literally nine inches taller than you. Nevertheless, Hannah narrowed her eyes at the man and flicked out her hidden blade threateningly. She had so many questions that she wanted answers to. “Shall we take this outside? I would hate for the blood of another innocent to be spilled here. Not that you wouldn’t mind, Templar.” Hannah spat out the word as if it was poison on her tongue.

"Not that you wouldn’t mind, Templar.” That word rang in his mind. "Templar.”

This woman was crazy. She knew what he was. Why was she confronting her? Henry began to panic. He was never good at confronting an enemy during battle, but confronting this woman socially was something his father or his handler had never trained him for. A warm bead of sweat slowly ran from his forehead down his face, across his scar and dripping off his chin. His right eye twitched. He once killed a newborn baby that was a son of an assassin without a twitch.
"Oh... Uhh... Yes."
Henry was seriously confused. His memories of his father cutting him after talking to a young girl back in Dublin flooded back into his mind.
That's when he realised.

She was in control now.

He drew his sword, stared at the fine blade. shaking, he dropped the weapon.
"You lead."

Hannah felt a surge of pride as a troubled look briefly passed over this man's face. His composure seemed to falter ever-so-slightly in this moment,  a little bit of sweat collecting on his brow and a nervous twitch of his eye. Hannah's eyes quickly flickered over his scar,waiting for him to speak.
"Oh... Uhh... Yes."
Hannah nodded slightly, the hidden blade retracting with the slight sound of metal on metal. But just a moment later, the man reached for his blade and Hannah backed up swiftly, her muscles poised and ready to attack if need be. Mere seconds seemed like hours as she waited to see what he was going to do; but he dropped it."You lead."
Hannah felt all the eyes in the building on them as she slowly walked out of the tavern, never breaking eye contact with the Templar. She pushed the door open and waited for him to walk out, and then lead them to the side of the building that created an alley.
She had so many questions, and so they just spilled out. "Who the hell are you, and what do the Templars want in New York? The area has been peaceful lately, but it doesn't surprise me that you lot come along to muck it all up." Venom seeped into her voice from her natural hatred of the enemy affiliation. She didn't trust this man, and so she was still tense, ready to act at any given moment.

As the assassin lead the way, she stared deep into his eyes. Never breaking the gaze once. He was lead to an alley, where he was bombarded with questions.
 "Who the hell are you, and what do the Templars want in New York? The area has been peaceful lately, but it doesn't surprise me that you lot come along to muck it all up."
Henry didn't know how to answer. Why was he sent here? His orders were simply to stop any assassin operations, but why?
"Henry. Its Henry."
He avoided the other questions, not because he had no idea of the answers, but because he simply didn't understand how he could possibly relate to the disgusting, obvious woman before his eyes.

He waited to see what see proceeded to say.

"Henry. Its Henry." The man stated this simply, with a finality that suggested that she was not going to get many other answers tonight. Hannah rolled her eyes in annoyance, but wasn't the slightest bit surprised; it would have been way too easy otherwise.
The way that Henry looked at her caused Hannah to rival his glare with contempt. He almost looked down his nose at her, like she was some inferior, ignorant being. "Right then, Henry. What are you going to do now, hm? You followed me to the tavern for a reason. Are you going to kill me here, where there are no prying eyes?" Hannah gestured with her arms before continuing to speak. "Come to finish the job? You stabbed me in the shoulder, slitting my throat shouldn't be too difficult. After all, you Templars murder without giving any thought to what you do, you just do as your told!"

Hannah had stepped closer towards him during her argument without realizing it. Shaking her head, she leaned back. "You think you're part of a greater order, but in reality you are all just disposable chess pieces."

Henry looked down at the assassin. Her kind was disgusting, unknowing of the truth. But what was the truth? He pushed the thought deep into his mind.
But the woman continued to tap into every doubt he ever had about the Templars. He wanted her to stop talking, one flick of the wrist is all it would take.
She slowly got closer to him, step by step. 
He shook his head, this was wrong. The woman was wrong. He had to leave.
He turned around, and began to walk off.
One step.
Next step.
He stopped.

"What do you prepose then, assassin?"

Just around the corner, a young man in an aristocrat's clothing was listening to the whole thing. Or at least by the time the lady's voice suddenly rose, grabbing his attention.

'So this is Madam Hannah the other chaps were talking about.', the young man, Marcus, told himself.

Marcus took a small peek at whatever was happening, only to see that Hannah had the advantage. He decided to stay bit and watch what happens next.

Thankfully, Hannah's temper had begun to dissipate, so she didn't lash out on him again. As he turned around to ask her this final question, she scanned him with analytic eyes. Usually, Hannah could see underneath a man's facade, and catch a glimpse of what a man was really like. The eyes were usually the giveaway.
But for this man--Henry, his eyes gave away.. nothing. He just seemed cold and distant. Empty. It was almost as if he wasn't living life for himself, just carrying out favors for the Templars. He killed without hesitation, without a second thought. People were utterly disposable to him. And then Hannah thought she saw the tiniest sliver of doubt in his eyes. It could've merely been because of the darkened alleyway, but Hannah still played the possibility, hoping to strike a nerve.
She clenched her jaw before answering. "I believe you should learn to think for yourself rather than having the Templars govern your life. I bet all you know is death... And you ask,  what do I propose?" She repeated, and waited a moment. "The world is not black and white. Nothing is obvious, and intentions are easily distorted out of proportion. I propose that you stop being a puppet to the Templars, Henry. Even if you find us disgusting and repulsive, at least we assassins have free will."

Henry tried to block out the words the blonde woman told her. But curiosity overtook him, he had to find out more
"And how do you suggest I start thinking for my self? I have never done so, and right now I think you are poisoning my mind. But as my first choice of free will, I will resist the urge to kill you, and listen to what you have to say." Henry said, scared of what would come.
"But note it is a strong urge, so place your words, and your weapons carefully."

"What I believe Madam Hannah was trying to say is that it's a whole lot better to act and think for yourself, to be human, rather than let the Templars use you like a child's plaything.", Marcus finally spoke up, revealing himself from behind a wall.

With a walking stick in hand, Marcus slowly approached Henry. Marcus knew he was interfering with his superior's business, but he was convinced that they can make Henry join them, or at least free him, in a sense. Marcus was always this idealistic.

Despite her situation and the fact that Henry would readily kill her in a heartbeat, the most minuscule of smiles tugged at the corners of Hannah's lips. She slowly exhaled; Hannah had half expected for Henry to lunge at her and kill her. She was choosing her words carefully when a new voice rang out into the air--"What I believe Madam Hannah was trying to say is that it's a whole lot better to act and think for yourself, to be human, rather than let the Templars use you like a child's plaything."
At the sound of this, Hannah tensed up and flicked out her hidden blade promptly. Narrowing her eyes at the use of her name, she backed up the tiniest bit to distance herself from the two men, who were both taller than her and threatening. However, upon processing this new acquaintances' words, it was clear that he was an assassin, for a mere free lancer wouldn't be so insulting to the Templar Order. Hannah eased up only slightly. Henry seemed to her a string too tautly pulled; at any moment, he could snap. She was poised tentatively, anticipating Henry's next move.

Henry felt something are inside of him. Anger. He despised what this new comer had just said. Henry though he should teach him a lesson.
NO! Henry commanded himself. He knew that if he killed this peasant, the blonde woman would kill him instantly, and if he tried to kill the blonde woman, this peasant would make a move.
"It seems you have me in a difficult situation." Henry muttered. "You." He said pointing to Hannah "You speak logic and sense, while this peasant merely insults me and calls me a plaything. For this I have decided that if we all leave here alive, I will not speak of you to my superiors. Think of it as a act of free will on my count."

Tightening his grip on his walking stick, Marcus managed to walk around Henry and towards Hannah calmly, though his face told the two that he was mildly annoyed. Marcus didn't care about other people calling him names, but 'peasant' just wasn't one of them.

"Wasn't trying to insult you, chap, just wanted to make things simpler for you.", Marcus spoke, intent on not letting Henry go, as well as not letting the tension build up between the two of them.

Knowing Hannah was his superior, Marcus stood beside her and waited for her to make her own move.