Double Trouble in the Time of Pain - Pistols at Dawn Chapter 11

Previously, we discovered Elysia, despite being an Assassin mentor, has no clue about the geopolitics or the 'Who's Who' of France with the man known as Thomas Dumas being completely unknown to her; Arno getting outsmarted by a cat, and him crying at the end because he's afraid of fireworks. We're entering another realm of Pain, so let's see what content we can get out of the 35-40 pages Les has shat out for us.

The room was bitterly lit; a glacial haze rested at our feet despite the warmth the stationed fireplace brought. It orbited and encased our legs, leaving us restless of this expected event; awaiting to agitate, to solidify its waking impact to our rigid, cohesive atmosphere.

Much like a memory long ago.

Les, I'd give you writing advice but you're the uppity Latina type and won't take 'no' for an answer, so I'll tell you here: a 'glacial haze' and 'warmth the fireplace brought' are literary contradictions. One suggests it's cold in the room and the other suggests there's a comforting light. This is what happens when you have three people writing the same story: no one knows who is writing what, or why.

“Beylier…was the one who introduced me to the Parisian Brotherhood, at the time.”

Despite this, in Chapter 9, Elysia doesn't respect Beylier that much and views him as a thorn in her side. Her initial respect for him being a 'fellow person of colour' evaporated once she found out he was keeping secrets from her. There is not a single Mentor she respects, aside from Trenet, and even that is on shaky ground.

Whereas everyone outside the headquarters avoided direct contact, every Master in this Brotherhood dared cross the invisible threshold I maintained. Intently studying. Noting every movement I made, every fidget I presented.

I wonder why. It couldn't be because your incompetence is being brought to light? How you nearly murdered a recruit because he said you were wrong? Chances are, it's a complete non issue. We cannot have the Mary Sue be punished for long.

Beylier was beside himself; gave everything he could to insist I was a good candidate for their ever-growing problem of increased unrest and radicals. I was inspected, questioned (because how did someone like me hold a burned insignia of an older Creed on my finger) on my knowledge and experiences; if I had any hidden motive or agenda.

Yes to the last point. They wonder about your Assassin insignia, and made you a Mentor despite you not being worthy of the position at all. You saying 'Well I knew Ezio, and he respected me' isn't an argument. Consider how the employees at the Café reacted to her, and how her Squad fluctuates from calling her 'Auntie Elysia' to being mortally afraid of ever crossing her. You're damn right this woman has a hidden agenda: she's the meteorite heading to Earth for an extinction event.

And they looked at me.

They couldn’t stop looking at me.

Circled and hovered like vultures, picking me apart with their eyes, their speculations….then-

This must be where the 'ethnic slur' bits from Bellec come from. Your big ass elf ears and the 'Gypsy skin' weren't a dead giveaway as to you being an outsider. Notice how Elysia is afraid of others picking her apart the same way she does to them: she does not like to be scrutinized. The narcissist does not like to be accused or held to the same standards as others.

“What’s with the ears?” Bellac was too blunt for his own good.

“Birth deformity,” I rehearsed. 

Ah, Bellec. You're still my favourite. Calling it out like it is.

He wasn’t satisfied, but he had to take it because everything else about me had been cleared (to an extent). Soon, there was a mutual understanding and tolerance because they trusted Beylier so much, who poured his everything into making this Creed achievable, successful under Mirabeau’s name. They were desperate at the time to move along if it meant having another hand to aid them.

There's nothing 'mutually understanding' here aside from Les' say so. Also note how Beylier, the token black guy, has all the credit given to him despite there being other people involved in the Brotherhood. A PeeOhCee covering a PeeOhCee, who would've thought? Everything has been cleared, except your nonexistent knowledge of business, French history, the people, the language, the respect for those who follow your lead, and your way of training recruits. No one thought twice about this psycho bitch being a leader, because Reasons.

Humans are so predictable.

So are you with your uppity attitude, courtesy of the author who wrote you.

“We call this meeting in the light of precedent events.” Mirabeau hummed, and all eyes (except Bellac’s whose tenebrous coals lingered along the table in front of him) turned to address him. The Grand Master folded his digits together, the creases of his old age creating ravines when he pressed at his loose knuckles, “It’s of utter importance which is why we called this meeting in secrecy. No word is to leave, and I trust we understand the gravity of this rule.”

'Tenebrous coals' for his dark eyes, eh? Purple prose isn't a good look, especially for novice writers. I can't wait for Elysia to act shocked how she doesn't know a single thing about the Brotherhood and secrecy.

“What about?” Quemar pressed, and I heard the stretch of leather when his once relaxed palm fisted.

"Shay Cormac."

The room cut to utter silence.

No one moved.

It took 100,000 words of utter bullshit just for Shay's name to be brought up. One of the problems of the game was that the Brotherhood never took Germain seriously for his similar threat of Assassin purges. Les says in contrast she will fix these errors, yet look how long it took for her to bring Shay in.

The room heated tensely; even Beylier who was usually calm sweated, running his gloved hand across his face to clear it. Sophie in turn pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to contain whatever ill-boded state plagued her. Quemar and Bellac glared at Mirabeau, knowing it wasn’t his fault, but at the same time- 

'A calm sweat'. OK. About contradictory terms, again...

“He’s already in Paris,” Mirabeau’s words devasted the room’s hold, Quemar having to grip onto the table’s edge while Bellac couldn’t take it any longer, and was pacing around the room.

“That’s….” Quemar couldn’t find the words.

I inspected the panic, the absolute betrayal in everyone’s faces.

“Shit…” Bellac muttered, facing the wall and burying himself into the shadow of the room. Concealed away, trembling at his form.

Just imagine for a minute: Mirabeau knows full well the guy who single handedly wrecked the Colonial Brotherhood is in Paris and didn't think to tell anyone about it. Why? Plot. Add on to the fact Elysia, a Mentor, doesn't know who he is or even thought about investigating him herself. The Mentors have the right to be in a state of panic; knowing your leader deliberately lied for plot reasons is pretty shitty.

I knew it was stupid to say, I knew it would make everyone question me, but- “Who is Shay Cormac?” I had to ask.

Whatever spell had possessed Bellac spun to a new direction, directly to me and his nostrils flared. Words couldn't be contained, but they were not delivered when he instead turned with a huff. Mirabeau stayed the other man's potential worded assault, holding his hand in the air, though it deflected everyone else’s stare at me. 

I 100% agree with Bellec here: Elysia is an Assassin Mentor and yet doesn't know anything about Assassin history. She never thought of even talking with Bellec to know what happened to Assassin cells around the world. She never thought of reading up on correspondence or asking other recruits. Shay Cormac, the most infamous Templar to have lived, is a virtual unknown to her.

And someone put her in charge. Bellec is justified in wanting to hit her.

Mirabeau focused, frowning, "I would not lie if I said I'm a bit surprised you haven't heard of him before, Elysia."

“Tuscany faced its own issues,” I reminded, though felt this copper-taste at the back of my throat.

There was nothing stopping you from looking up historical events in the timeline you live in, Elysia. You knew who Cesare and Rodrigo Borgia were, and yet cannot be bothered to ask around about Shay fucking Cormac? Yes, someone put you in charge. Someone made you hate Arno for asking stupid questions.

This just gets better and better.

“You’re out of your goddamn mind thinking that-“ Bellac suddenly fronted, pointing at Quemar as Mirabeau motioned to stand between them (almost as if the table wasn’t there to begin with), holding his hands out. And everyone grew silent as Bellac rambled, “We stand no chance! No matter how much force, the numbers, the support; Shay Cormac is a threat to be reckoned with and any kind of plan will meet failure to the harshest degree!”

Yes, and it took 100,000 words to get here. Bellec didn't tell Arno about Shay, and chances are Elysia won't either. No one bothered to bring him up. And no one seems to know Bellec's own history and where he was born. Hey Les, did you know Bellec was born in New France? He's literally Canadian.

“You must think rationally, Bellac!” Sophie tried, “If we-“

No one has room to act rationally when you were too busy focused on the Mary Sue and her haughty-taughty attitude.

“You don’t know what I SAW!” this tetchy Bellac was beyond any sense of reasoning. He threw his fist out, and slammed it against the table, making all of us jolt to stand and watch intently of his spew. “He struck them all down, every single one of them…” His voice dropped at the last word, and a pained expression swelled his face. His arm was rigid, but his shoulders lightly trembled, but out of frustration or concern…maybe both.

A look none of us had seen in a while. One that…changed him those years ago.

1. Elysia has no idea who Shay was, and kept wondering why Bellec has such strong feelings towards Templars. 2. No one knows or bothered to look into Bellec's history to find out he came from the Colonies and witnessed Shay's purges first hand. No one asked him about Connor. No one knows anything about him. This is one incompetent Brotherhood and Les should be congratulated on making them dumber than they were in game.

"We shouldn't allow fear to control our sense of decision making, however," Sophie was quick to add, "While I agree with Bellac that sending a group of assassins to Shay would be an unprecedented suicide mission, Quemar does a make a point too. We should act vigilantly and increase our security; our main priority should be to discover what exactly is Shay Cormac's intentions with coming to France."

Hey, Sophie. It'd be a good idea to take the advice of a guy who actually saw the results of Shay's purge versus 'acting vigilantly' to a threat you didn't even know existed. Fucking wow dude.

"…I agree with Sophie." Beylier admitted a few moments later, rubbing at his temple, "The last he had come to France he was looking for a box, one that our Brotherhood had been given to hold for safe keeping. We had underestimated the threat Shay Cormac held then, leaving the box with only one assassin; Charles Dorian."

It hit me.

Now it does. Because you never bothered to put two and two together and instead went out of your way to shit on and nearly kill Arno Dorian. You didn't think the two sharing the same last name meant they were father and son, oh no. You didn't even ask Bellec, who actually knew Arno was his son. It hits you now because you're being reminded of how much of an idiot you are and how you threaten your own recruits more than Shay fucking Cormac.

“Shay Cormac murdered Arno’s father,” I cemented. 

Daily reminder you nearly killed him yourself when he defied you. Don't be a stupid bitch and think you're sweet now. I don't have a short term memory unlike the authors. This attempt to make her seem human will always fall down an empty well.

"The...murder of Charles Dorian has been a subject of...great debate for some time. To the point where even Grand Master de la Serre had thought to take ownership of the responsibility: adopting Arno." Mirabeau sighed softly, his fingers drumming the surface of the wooden desk, "Now, however, we impose this restriction upon this information in order to keep the young man, and others, safe."

Someone like Arno….knowing that? When he already was paying a duty to his fallen step-father? I could only imagine what he would do if he found out this….Shay Cormac.

Not as if you could've asked. And it's not as if you care about paying dues; you treat Arno like he's the shit on your boot, and my best bet is that Elysia is going to act as the rope around Arno's neck, preventing him from having any character development (which is supposed to be the author's kink, dontchaknow). Having Arno being the actual protagonist? No, can't have that. We have this 'Gypsy' PeeOhCee who doesn't even know who the greatest threat to the Brotherhood is as the star.

“No one knows why he’s here, then,” I decided to say. “Any guesses as to why? Unless the weakened state of the Templar Order is any indication….”

You don't know either 😆

“Then that means someone within the Order personally called him,” Sophie added, picking up the spoon she had dropped earlier and setting it beside her cold tea. “Is there any news on remaining members? Of what has become of Elise? What their intentions are?”

Now Élise matters. Because the redhead comes second to the PeeOhCee with golden eyes and elf ears.

"That's what the damn boy was trying to find out, wasn't he?" Bellac blasted, vehemently grumbling the next part, "His whole 'redemption' act. De la Serre got murdered, wouldn't every thieving Templar be out grabbing the title? We should just get rid of the rest of ‘em."

This attitude of Bellec being a bigot, a drunkard, or a rapist in all the instances I've read him as is hopelessly OOC and doesn't come close to what he actually is. He's jaded for a reason, but he respected Arno because he knew he wasn't stupid. Les is only making him the one-dimensional bigot because he's a Fucking White Male and he called the Mary Sue a slur.

"You'd be committing the same atrocities that Shay had done to the assassins!" Mirabeau countered harshly.

"If you kill your enemies, they win." You tell me about that logic, Les.

The Grand Master accepted shifting the focus, "...We have...little information on the Templar movements, but I am sure something will show. I have already deployed two assassins from Sophie's team to gather information...it is only a matter of waiting."

“How long must we wait until something presents itself?” Beylier advanced this time, and he gestured to Quemar once before challenging the Grand Master, “If I may be so bold…”

Yes, you guys fucking suck as Assassins. If you can't manage to find information on Templar movements, let alone trust your magical PeeOhCee to stop stealing grain for her boyfriend and get her to do her job, you deserve to be purged. Jesus Christ. 'One big mess' is right.

“It’s….a long story,” he smiled nervously, and let the passive flat-line of his mouth take hold.

“I can only imagine the kind of man Shay is…if someone like you were so hesitant on bringing him up once before,” I pressed.

Always nice to keep those kinds of things secret, eh? Priorities. Elysia could've asked, or did some research, but no.

“As Mirabeau has mentioned, Arno doesn’t know about Shay Cormac. He doesn’t know about his father’s murderer.”

“Clearly.”

“This is between us.”

I raised a brow.

“Arno has the right to know,” his voice dropped a tone. “He can’t be left out in the dark.” 

Pretty funny hearing that come from a character who had no issue with attempted murder against a man who said it was her fault the Café was in shambles. Now, she's acting all concerned and feels it's 'within Arno's right' to know who killed his father. Going off her character, she'd be the type to keep it a secret out of spite. Bellec should be the one to tell him, because he actually cares for Arno. Elysia? She gives a shit about no one but herself.

“You want to expose that?” I rejected. “The boy is irrational. It’s unwise.”

Irrational to you. He called you out on your shit, you hated it, you tried to kill him. Covering your ass with faux concern doesn't add humanity; it adds another layer to your shit characterization.

"You don't think he might lash out worse later? When it becomes apparent that everyone knew?" Bellac emphasized the severity of it, "The boy acts on impulse and his emotions. Believe me, I couldn't beat it out of him no matter how much we've trained together. He'd sooner hunt down Shay himself when the time comes and he feels vulnerable. If he knows now, he could still have a chance."

No one cares for Arno in this fic, author included. He's written as irrational, emotional and impulsive - the descriptions more apt than Elysia than him - and generally needs a hand around his neck and his cock to stir him in the right direction. Leave it to the Mary Sue to beat down a Fucking White Male to make herself look good.

I shook my head, and the clinging question blurted out before I can stop myself, “What is your history with this Shay? Why does it sound like you know who he is?"

You'd know if you studied Assassin history, you dumb bitch.

“He sounds like a problem not to be taken lightly,” I replied. I kept firm, “However, I don’t think it’s wise to tell the Dorian until we know more, or how long Shay will stay. The less Arno knows, the better for now.”

...No shit. You didn't know about the purges before, and had to hear it from someone who was there to even believe it. So much for you being a good Assassin, caring for her kind.

"Tell me; would you have preferred to never know who killed your parents if it happened to you?" Bellec demanded, "Arno's desperate for answers, despite how much I don't care when it comes to that de la Serre bastard. He never had the chance to ask about his Father, it's a right he deserves to know."

Sounds like you do care. He's your recruit; he's the one you extended an olive branch to (a scene no doubt that will be changed to suit Elysia more than Arno and Élise) and the one who broke your heart. Being a heartless asshole just because is bad character development.

And I winced. Physically winced in front of Bellac. I rubbed my hand across my neck, wanting nothing but to pull the cowl on my head.

I resisted to from how intently Bellac observed me, “No, I would have loved nothing more than to know....But the way I see it, Arno is not the only one who is emotional about this. So are you.”

Oh, shut the fuck up. You don't give two shits about him and would rather see him dead. Bellec describes what is pretty much an ethnic cleansing and you don't even blink. Of course not; they're not your people. It would matter if 'people of colour' were killed.

"’Course I am." Bellec didn't hold his usual bitterness this time, "Charles was a good man, a fine Assassin, a remarkable father that raised a child on his own. I told him time and time again he had to keep himself safe to get back to his little boy back home every time. Now he's dead, and the same man is back in France. The way I see it, what sort of luck does Arno Dorian have that he won't meet the same fate as his pisspot father?"

He's got a 'mentor' like Elysia, who almost did just that - and in front of witnesses. No one cared and no one told you, Bellec. It's fine when the Mary Sue does it, because she's perfect.

I tried again, “He has two mentors who know how to think rationally about things....and anything less will undo him, Pierre.” I sighed, adjusting my stance to properly face him. “I’m.......” my tongue twisted, and I again winced, more subtly this time, “...I’m sorry. About Charles.”

 Does 'rational' include nearly killing Arno all because he told you you were running a business into the ground? No, that's murderous intent. You are not a rational creature. Rational people don't resort to murder on a whim or attempted murder when someone calls them out for being wrong. Elysia was chosen as a Mentor, and yet she doesn't know any of this. 

"....Don't apologize to me. I've made my peace with what happened to him." He answered, a sad tone intertwined in his throat, "Make yours with the boy. He's going to find out, whether I tell him or he finds out on his own. He's smart, Elysia, smarter than either of us would like to admit."

That's a far cry from the 'he's emotional and a loose cannon, I can't beat that out of him if I tried' line you said a few paragraphs ago, dude.

 “....Right.” I crossed my arms. I hummed, “He’s not exactly...being cooperative either. Any.....advice?”

1. Stop being an entitled bitch. 2. Stop trying to kill him when he says he's wrong. 3. Stop treating him like he's the shit on your boots. 4. Stop denigrating him at every turn.

But no...I won't see that, because the Mary Sue can never be wrong.

"Not sure really what to give you there. I already give him enough independence on missions...then again, he’s the only student I have now." Bellec sighed, quirking his lips to the side, "Probably give him a reason to trust you and your team, that might do it."

 “........There are potentially five hundred different ways that can go wrong.” This cracked his firm mouth, and suddenly Bellac was actually chuckling. I rolled my eyes at this, “It’s not funny.”

"You're the one that came to that conclusion, not me," Bellac argued.

Want to know the reason for that? Because Elysia treats her Squad like her foot soldiers without the respect and admiration required between soldiers and officers. She doesn't even want to trust Arno or treat him with dignity, so being told that she should try being a proper leader for once is a shock to her. No wonder: if a recruit loses to a goddamn cat and is insulted by your students for being more talented than they are, chances are you aren't as great as you think you are. You're not running a tight ship, but you are spraying everyone with diesel fuel expecting them to move forward.

“I’ll find some way, I suppose.” I stopped from retreating, and gave him a direct look, “I’m also going to borrow the Dorian another day. It’s an important mission that has to do with an infiltration.”

Oh, perfect. Another scene where you write him as a bumbling fool who can't do his job.

"Infiltration?" Bellec repeated, "What sort of....tch, fine. But I get for another two. I have sights on one of his marks that he's been itching to get. At least let the boy know that--ha, maybe that'll motivate him to cooperate better."

 "He's overly emotional." "He's a smart kid." "He can't co-operate." Pick one.

 “You make it sound like I was going to give him a choice,” I stared blankly.

"He's as stubborn as a mule, he'll think it’s an option. "

What an absolute cunt. So much for 'well he has the right to know who killed his dad!' pity party you threw a few paragraphs ago.

He thought for a moment, humming deeply, “How is it possible you don’t know who Shay Patrick Cormack is?”

“I already said why.” I swallowed.

He raised his brows lightly at this, testing, “I find that really hard to believe, Elysia.”

Lampshading. Elysia couldn't find out who he was while on her days off, so she has to play the 'LOL, I DUNNO' card.

“That matter wasn’t important to my Creed,” I tried again. As stupid as it sounded. “My mind was in a different place...a different time.”

You were made a Mentor, and yet didn't bother to learn about the Brotherhood you are occupying a position in. God, these authors are really testing my patience.

The swordsman answered, “He’s interesting, that one.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” I shot a stare.

He absentmindedly shrugged, “I like him. I don’t see why you don’t.”

“You don’t know what I’ve dealt with, obviously,” I replied firmly, jerking my hand his way.

Oh yeah, 100% leadership material. Would some of the stuff you've 'dealt with' include stealing grain for your boyfriend to price gouge at his Café while letting your own suffer? Treat your management and employees like shit? Guess so. She's a Mentor, dontchaknow.

“Oh, and he told you?” I snapped my head over….and I felt the hot prickle rise along my neck when I saw how smug his smile was.

“….Why don’t you ask him,” he grinned mischievously, and closed the door. Ugh, why was everyone getting on my nerves, the day just started-

You're the farthest thing from a ray of sunshine, so suck it, bitch.

“….Is there anything else I should know about?” I inquired.

"Probably. Do you want to know? Probably not," Stephen admitted freely.

"There had been a bit of unauthorized team bonding yesterday evening...that went perhaps a tad off-rails." James answered with a well-built pokerface, clearing his throat, "Nothing serious." Arno’s posture suddenly straightened, and I didn’t quite catch where he had shot a glare to. That only left Clement, who didn’t bother to look at any of his teammates. His hand clenched at his side, eerily slow as to not draw the attention to himself, and didn’t bother to stroke Eugene’s head as he peaked out of his coat.

Yes, your Squad is filled with cheaters. Everyone is just so much better at their roles than emotional, overworked and 'I-can't-do-shit' Arno. Let's not consider how a guy trained a goddamn cat to steal a ticket he got fair and square.

“I could care less what it was about, but whatever this is-“ I signaled between the two, and the ire glowed in my eyes, “is going to be dealt with. I will not have you both go out on a mission, and embarrass me, nor embarrass your other two comrades for your pride. Do I look like a joke to you?” I addressed callously.

You are 100% a joke. No one likes you. You don't know jackshit about anything in the world, and yet are trusted as an Assassin Mentor to train recruits into the Brotherhood. You almost let people starve on the street, and steal from the poor and hungry. And, not to mention, you nearly killed a man who told you you were wrong. So yeah, that's considered a 'joke' in my book.

“It takes two to make a mess, and I doubt you’re innocent; don’t push my patience, Stephen.” I eyed him, then shifted to Arno, “I’m aware of your struggles, but don’t make this a repeated offense; I don’t take quarrels in my team lightly, and I’m not making leeway because you are new. Do I make myself clear?”

A dark loom veiled over the Dorian’s face, and couldn’t meet me eye-to-eye, “I’m aware. I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”

Arno has done nothing wrong here. Elysia takes her Squad's side because they're her flock. She doesn't like Arno because he's naturally better than her, but we can't have that. Elysia doesn't want to be 'disrespected', yet she's done nothing to earn respect. Anyone who tells her she's wrong, that she's ignorant, and that she's a danger to others gets the claws around their throat. She's worse than Shay Cormac. Shay didn't kill those who told him he was wrong - Assassins notwithstanding. He accepted their advice.

“Every mission we deal with has a consequence, and the last thing I want is to have someone injured because of some imprudent argument the day before.” I exhaled, crossing my arms on my chest. “The minute we leave, you are each responsible of each other’s actions. Everything you say and everything you do is monitored; it’s a reflection of everything we worked for, of what I had to do to ensure you could be in a Brotherhood. I’ve stressed this many times, countless times, and yet I still have to remind you not to fight like children in a playground.”

I wonder why that is. Couldn't be that they don't respect you? Who knows.

I started, “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

Yes you did. Difference is, you're nicer to the Squad than you are to those you perceive as a threat to your superiority. 

"It's fine, maître, I had a feeling you would notice I wasn't all here. I somewhat set myself up," Clement answered with a rub at the back of his head.

“It’s not a matter of setting yourself up, I saw you were uneasy. There’s always a lot at stake when you’re not concentrated.” I fiddled with the edge of my cowl, “Do you feel comfortable carrying out the mission?”

Aw, isn't that sweet? She totally cares about her recruits. Just not the ones who tell her she's wrong, or ones she thinks she pities. So much for Arno being Charles Dorian's son and his 'right to know' who killed him. 

The upper corner of his lip lifted up at this, chuckling softly, "I might have spiked the ticket beforehand...I can't stop my cat once he smells it. I...had more fun watching him run then I would like to admit."

“Then we’ll be sure to prepare an Initiation specifically for him,” I gave a side glance, smirking lightly. “He’ll beat Arno Dorian to his Mastery rank.”

Clement reached to scratch the cat’s head, smiling gently, "He's honored."

What was that about being better to Arno? Trying to train him better? Instill respect from him? Well with monologues him a goddamn cat beating him to Master Assassin status, this seals the deal on how much Les really doesn't like Arno. He can't be the protagonist, so he has to be trashed for his Fucking White Male status at every turn.

I inspected his posture, “Dorian.” He lifted his gaze, but refused to meet my eyes entirely, “I wouldn’t have vouched to Bellac to have you another day if I thought you couldn’t do this mission.” Here, he stared. I reached out, removing his hood with one sweep and revealing his low ponytail, “Make him proud.”

“…I-I will,” Arno fervently nodded, “Thank you, mentor.”

You just insulted his skills not a paragraph ago. And now you're saying you totally respect him and can vouch for his skills? Fuck off. I can read. 

Stephen’s arms were somewhat jarring; not that he actually had tight muscle there, but that his coat hid that fact alone. He had the longest hair, running down his back with two, symmetrical bangs framing his soft, pastel face. It was soon lifted to a very loose ponytail. An earring was clipped at his left ear, but Arno wasn’t sure if he had a matching one on the right. His eyes brightened, his blouse a light beige. When he caught Arno looking, he gave a small wink, and shifted to stand beside James to stow his affects as well.

It's true men wore their hair long during this period, but there were and are certain appropriate lengths to be considered. Stephen has anime-style hair, where it's long and flowing and doesn't pose a threat at all. I can't imagine the lice problems.

With the wink, I suspect he's going to be the one fucking Arno.

“Well, how splendid,” the man from before clapped his hands, and suddenly the four assassins were facing the four opponents. The leader hovered before Arno. “Although I commend the effort, this is where your journey ends.”

I don't know this guy, I don't care, and this dumb capture the flag moment was better played in Goldeneye. 

“I could say the same for you,” Arno battled the man’s settled glare, “we’re not here to compete, we’re here to prove ourselves; you’re a mere afterthought.”

“You little commoner, as if skilled soldiers will lose to the likes of you,” the male was quick to answer. He lifted a finger, and pressed the tip against Arno’s chest, “Watch your mouth, vacuous dog.”

I love the 'tee hee, we're such villains' dialogue. Of course, it's to be expected since Les can't think of anything else. 

It took 100,000 words for Les to include Shay in her work, and it was all centered on dialogue. She spends pages and pages writing absolutely nothing to forward the plot. Half of the chapter was focused on talking about - not showing - how Shay was a threat, and the latter had the Baguette Boy Band participate in a shitty Capture the Flag subplot.

Elysia, though, she's always a (poisoned) treat to read. She doesn't know anything about the Purges; didn't bother to look into them, and when questioned, said it 'wasn't her concern'. Pretty sure purges are the number one concern for the Brotherhood, as you are compromised. When faced with Bellec's story on how he witnessed Shay's rampage, she responds in the vaguest manner possible. Either she doesn't care, or she only cares when her kind and her people are involved, the same way Les cares only about her tribalism. She takes nothing seriously unless it personally affects her, and to think - to think! - the Mentors chose her as one of their own. It's unbelievably pathetic.

She is told to give Arno another chance, before making more swipes at him and saying he won't make it to Master Assassin status. No one knows she tried to kill Arno, and she didn't think his last name and Charles' last name added up. She tells Bellec Arno has the right to know who killed his father, but reneges on that stance when she re-enters the sphere of 'How fucking annoying this guy is'. I cannot imagine serving under a character like her. No one respects her, and the thing she fears is being judged and disrespected. She thinks her shield of 'Well I'm a woman of colour, you can't judge me' is a solid one. It's not. It's the projection of a Hispanic woman who knows nothing about French culture and thinks she is 'fixing' the plot. She can't even write a chapter with any substance to start off with, and honestly thinks her character has great character development and will serve as the agent to fix the plotholes and bad writing of the game.

If it takes 100,000 words to make a fucking point, it's time for you to shut up. But we're probably looking at 350,000-400,000+ words of this bullshit. I don't think America has enough toilet paper to clean up the mess.