乱七八糟的AC段子

2023-08-06 13:16 作者:海拉鲁刺客兄弟会成员 0人读过 | 我要投稿

（网图侵删，大团长镇楼）

法棍的咖啡馆

Ezio: (pfh, spitting the blazing bitter liquid in disgust) Why is the caffe so bitter?

Arno :( looking to the miserably-tasteless guest in his Café Theatre in the eye) You ordered that Espresso yourself, isn’t that supposed to be in your Italian style?

Ezio: it might be better with cream and sugar…

Arno: (rolling his eyes, ironically) oui, certainly the best way to ruin it, Monsieur Cream&Sugar

（灵感来自AC2盗贼工会首领安东尼奥给E子喝咖啡然后E子被苦到的情节）

（网图侵删）

肯威家的隔代相传

1. Haytham: GET DOWN from the tree, Connor, or I’ll send your grandfather for you.

2. Edward: Why scolding Connor all the way on the Aquila?

Connor: Yeah, why don’t you take the wheel and prove yourself better than me in sailing than just wrecking my ship into another?

Haytham: ……

3. Edward: Why should anyone spend so much time lock-picking a chest? Connor, perhaps you can try in this way. (SMACK)

Connor: oh, I shouldn’t have learnt that from my father.

Haytham:……

（网图侵删）

If线1 （Shay & Arno）

Arno (young): (trying to get through the frightened crowd) Father?

And his father’s corpse lay in front of him, pupil widened, with a neat and lethal wound in his chest where blood streamed out.

The sense of safety and conscience that fill his not-so-long childhood had suddenly evaporated, leaving him helplessly falling into the bottomless abyss of fear, along with the watch that slipped from his numb fingers, about to finish its fatal one- way-trip to the luxurious yet now crimson marble floor of the Château de Versailles.

But it didn’t.

The falling was stopped by an incredibly swift and accurate movement from a hand of a stranger, a scar decorating his face. His expression still cool as ice, yet flowing with a blur caring and sympathy.

Shay: (hesitating if it is really a well-considered decision, then eventually made up his mind and pulled Arno out of prying sights) eh…bon jour? I was wondering if you might need a new place to stay.

Arno (young): (looking up at the stranger’s face in great confusion) monsieur?

Shay: (sigh a bit) …you’d like to come with me? We can still catch up on the fireworks.

Arno (young):??????????

（网图侵删）

Comments

Haytham: you’d better tell him who had killed his father honestly rather than having him accidentally find it out. That…hurts.

Edward: shut it, son.

(Years later)

Bellec: WHERE THE HELL IS THAT PISS-POT?!

（网图侵删）

冥界（Edward & Haytham）

I should have killed you long ago……

Velvet-like darkness started to occupy his sight, embracing him, enveloping him, and…eventually swallowing him up whole.

In the darkness, the searing pain and the heavy burdens, which may only exist in the realm of the living, had quietly evaporated.

（图片截自《哈迪斯：杀出地狱》）

Finally getting back to conscious, he found himself in a rather bizarre situation------surrounding him was some sort of dubious crimson liquid (the river Styx), yet neither did he float nor choke. In fact, he was now standing on a solid marble floor, felling a flight of stairs that led up. Cautiously stepping forward (with a little help from his well-trusted Eagle Vision), he broke to the surface. Glad to find the mysterious liquid did not soak his outfit, he adjusted his three-pointer (which was a relief that it stilled stayed loyally with him) and started to observe his surroundings.

Where he was standing was a large chamber, illuminated by eerie vivid-green flames, decorated by some luxurious carpets and forums in a style which he couldn’t tell. All was quiet except for the sound of the rushing Styx behind him.

This is the chamber where he encountered…

An assassin.

Instantly his hand flew to the hilt of his sword, his finger feeling the familiar slight resistance of the mechanism of his hidden blade, his eyes locked on the figure’s silhouetted face. Strange, the Eagle Vision was telling him that this man was no foe of his.

“I wonder who you might be.” His usual, elegant polite yet somehow lethal voice echoed in the grand and quiet chamber.

“Haytham·Kenway, I do wonder how I’ve changed that you can’t even recognize your own father.” The figure removed his hood, revealing a face which was absolutely unmistakable for Haytham.

The Welsh accent, the casually-tied handsome blonde hair, the scar-decorated face. This man is no one else but his own father, Edward·James· Kenway.

But a younger version of who he had been so familiar with. He had to admit that the outfit was more of the style of a pirate than an assassin, not to mention the cutlasses and the four pistols, which gave a strong sense of outlaw.

（网图侵删，大概是这样的爷爷OwO）

“Simply out of curiosity, what is this place?” with all his might to maintain his about-to-erupt emotion and keep it out of his voice, he asked, feeling young and ignorant all of a sudden.

“The place for the dead, of course. Or the Hell, if you like.” Said Edward, throwing him a doubtful look as well as a bottle of rum. “Whether Assassin or Templar, liberty or order, chaos or corruption…money and power (his face dimmed a bit), all would matter nothing here. They have gone far out of our consideration. Anyway, cheers, to your arrival”

（网图侵删，喝多了就成这样啦（bushi））

He hesitated. The fact that his father was an assassin, despite his previous acknowledgment which had failed to reduce even the slightest shock he was in when seeing his father’s past version standing alive (or perhaps dead) right in front of him, aroused a tsunami of mixed feeling swirling in to a storm of countless words, yet stuck on his tongue. Attempting to numb the immense shock and the rearing emotions, he took a great gulp from the bottle. His head swimming, the whole chamber seemed to swirl around him.

“By the way, ‘simply out of curiosity’ (a naughty smirk), who sent you here?”

(“Stop it, father…” The address somehow seemed strange to him, as the feeling of conscience did not last long in his not-so-long childhood, the feeling which he failed to pass down to…)

“…Your grandson, Connor.”