Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, Callum sighed as he traced his fingers down his cheek. Blood--debatable whether or not his own--splattered across his face and matted heavy into a soaked shirt. One of his favorite business suits was now lost to a drying wave of crimson and his aching shoulder continued to soak it furthur.
Callum had been attacked before (and would certainly be again) but very rarely did anyone come as close as they had tonight. Tonight had brought an old anger back into the man and it wasn't because of the minor injuries he began to clean with the turning of the faucet. No, tonight they hard targeted his daughter.
And tonight he had shown them no mercy in response.
But the threat was over and Eva had done her part in protecting Lily.
Splashing his face, the man turned the water into a dull pink as he scrubbed his fingers over his skin. But behind the rush of water, Callum heard the distinct sound of his front door opening and his fingers paused.
There was no hesitation as he took up the gun resting on the counter beside him and strode from the bathroom, confidence in his gait and murder in his eyes. As he rounded the corner into the living room, the man aimed the gun to kill and clicked back the safety.
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"Yes, Sir. Rhodes. Though, you could just call me Trevor if you’d like." Trevor swallowed nervously, taking out his digital recorder. "Do you mind if I record this? I want to make sure that everything that you say is quoted properly."Â
Trevor smiled and shook his head, declining an order. He was far too anxious—this was Callum Davidson, head of Abstergo, head of the secret society that he had long thought was forgotten. “Shall we begin?”
Callum motioned to the seat across from him, even going so far as to push it out by the toe of his shoe. Despite his calm demeanor and relaxed shoulders, he knew his icy eyes put fear into others.
"Sadly, desperate times call for desperate measures, uh? Nothing in particular happened — I’m only worried, as I’m sure most of us are, Mr. Callum.” He stated, in a much too sober tone. The man probably had noticed the concerning look in his eyes, and just by the way Callum had left his cigarette aside, it looked like trouble was on its way. Good, because that’s exactly what Noah needed; to find out what made Callum tick.
Callum heaved a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes when he wasn't given a clear answer. "Well I'm not here to coddle you or hold your hand, Mr. Weston. I'm a business man, not a therapist. My office is not open for casual visits or questions of the unknown. Unless you have actual business or reason to be here, I have a conference call and paperwork to do."
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Ryan nodded and kept his face expressionless, professional. Â He saw Davidson as he saw any number of hardass officers he worked with overseas. Â And this was the same shit, different place.
"Of course, sir, absolutely," he said, nodding.  He took a moment before answering the man’s question.  Ryan had never been the type to rat on one of his fellows, and if it’d been a fellow mercenary or even one of the templar agents, depending on how fond he was off them.  But this was a dangerous game they were playing, he knew.  And it probably earned at least a couple brownie points to keep the bossman informed.
"She asked exactly that, sir, how she could move about without alerting alerting… someone her activities.  I took that someone to be you, sir.”
Callum leaned forward onto his elbows, lips pressing softly to laced fingers as he listened  to Ryan's explanation. Lily had been a blessing in the sense that he'd never had to deal with a terrible rebellious phase. Perhaps it was through their shared grief and traumatic events that they used eachother as silent anchors.
But despite using her as a support, he had also vowed to never get her involved in Templar business. If she knew anything...
"...But why did she come to you?" Callum murmured, more to himself than Ryan, watching the man with calculating, cold eyes. After another moment of thought, the man leaned back up and into his backrest, fingers seeking out the cigarette he'd lit earlier.
"You're a soldier, a mercenary, and one of the few people I hold even the slightest of trusts in. So I hope there is no offense if I force you to play babysitter," He smiled an empty smile. "Look into anyone she's speaking with--college friend, Templar, stranger, or even...Assassin. Regardless of how often or not I speak with my daughter, she has never gone behind my back or at least been foolish enough to try. If she knows something--anything--I want her source of knowledge squashed."
Bringing the cigarette up, he inspected the ash that had grown on the tip and tapped it, sending the particles floating to the floor.
[Bradley stopped himself from sighing in annoyance at the leader’s command. Darius would be useless if caught. The boy had nothing left. At least, in Bradley’s opinion. And part of him thought seeing Darius dead would make him feel slightly better over the betrayal.] I’ll be sure to do that, then.
Also, from the way he spoke, it sounded as if he was keeping up old relationships with some Templars. He gave no names and I can’t say for certain my suspicions are even true. But it’s something to watch out for.
"There is nothing to worry about, Mr. Rogers. An example will be made of Darius and anyone who might jeopardize our mission or company," Callum said, turning to the man with a confident half smile on his face; a dark glint in his eye.
Turning away from the window, Callum crossed the large office back to his desk. "Keep your suspicions silent until we have more proof of betrayal. If anything, send me a memo. Now is the time to prove how loyal you are to the Templars, Bradley. We are on the cusp of reaching domination."
"Stay true to our cause and I will ensure you knowledge that only the highest ranking Templars know."
Sitting down, Callum pulled on his glasses once more and picked up the file Bradley had given him earlier. "You may go."
Regret was something that came easy to Darius. All his life has been a long chain of regret after regret; leaving home, leaving his family behind, not being able to find his mother, following his stupid father’s words, working for an order he didn’t believe in, everything.Â
He hated himself for not being strong enough to fight back, to break free but he hated his father more for pushing him into this life, for making him befriend people who wanted to kill and destroy when all Darius wanted was run away and forget about this war.Â
This morning has been like every single one, waking up with his anger boiling in him after a fight with his father the night before, only to be dragged to train and smile politely like a true Templar. Darius was growing tired of this shit.Â
As he walked aimlessly down the hallways, looking for Lucas or Bradley to distract him form his thoughts, Darius walked into a more unpleasant face. Callum Davidson. Grand Master and head of the Abstergo industries.Â
Darius held no particular hate for the man, just what he believed in and his methods, so it wasn’t hard for him to put on an easy, polite face in front of him.Â
"Morning, sir. Thank you, but I’m not looking for my father. I guessed he’d be out lying to people. I’m looking for Lucas or Bradley, if you’ve seen them?"
While Callum knew that deceit was certainly a key tool Templars like Darius' father utilized, something set off in the man. It was the unknown inkling--the gut clenching thought--that something was off or would be off soon. Of course, the Grand Master had that twinge often with a job as stressful as his, so it was easy to push aside.Â
That didn't mean he watched the boy with a new, more observing eye.
"I just finished a lesson with Lucas, although I believe he's decided to head home," Callum said, looking in the direction said boy had gone with the shake of his head. "It's not even noon. Honestly, he tries my patience like no other."
His hand drew up to his nose, rubbing the sore bridge on which his glasses had been sitting for far too long. He honestly wanted to go home himself but knew he had a series of conference calls with the Abstergo headquarters in Canada and Japan-- which far outweighed his human desire for sleep.Â
But despite his busy schedule, he remembered then and there to mention to Darius what he'd been mulling over for some time.
"I'd been hoping to speak with you actually, assuming you have nowhere you need to be. Lucas Milan has been preparing extensively for the day he might take my position as Grand Master of the Templars. Have you put any consideration into your own advancement? You're a skilled and smart lad."
"Perhaps even more capable than Mr. Milan, himself."
"Don’t call me dearie." It was the first thing that escaped his mouth, before looking directly into the eyes of the smoking bastard. "You know why I’m here, don’t you?"
"Mr.Weston, if I knew why you were here I'd have scheduled this meeting personally," Callum sighed as he placed his cigarette on the rim of his ashtray. Turning his chair fully to the unpleasant looking man, Callum settled his icy eyes upon him and raised a brow, waiting for him to explain his visit.
"What has put you in such a foul mood, Mr. District Attorney?" He asked, voice hinting at amused sarcasm, but face betraying nothing.
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"I’m sorry, Sir." Trevor looked down at his notes. "I had a few follow-up questions for your interview, but if you’d like to reschedule, that’s perfectly all right."
"If I were to reschedule you...--Rhodes, was it?-- Your interview wouldn't be out for a few months," Callum said, motioning for the boy to take the seat across from him. Placing his tablet to the table in front of him, the slightest wave of his hand brought over a waitress.Â
"A pot of my usual tea, dear, and whatever Mr. Rhodes would like."
"Even still, he said not even the Assassin’s trust him," he said, shifting his weight and holding his hands behind his back to hide the clenching of his fists. "And I would have taken him there, had we not been somewhere so public," he explained, hating how pathetic the excuse sounded. He should’ve snapped Darius’s neck then and there.
But Bradley’d had so much to say to the former Templar, so much anger to expel that it was a miracle he hadn’t killed him. He was glad he didn’t though, for the most part, if only for his sisters. While he was sure the Templar’s connections could have easily gotten him out of trouble, he didn’t want the idea of him being a killer to form in Ashley and Amber’s heads.
"Is that so?" Callum asked, brows furrowing as he thought over the possibilities. If the Assassins didn't trust Darius, it meant any Templar information the boy had was potentially unspoken....But, at the same time, it meant Darius knew nothing more of the Assassin's than either man in that room did. Perhaps he knew less.
The boy was entirely useless. Well, almost entirely.
"Next time he won’t be so lucky."
"Oh?" Callum asked, looking to the man beside him with a raised brow and the ghost of a smile. "You plan to kill him? Don't. The next time you cross paths with Darius Cardei, I want him alive. Beat him, break him, do what you will. But alive is key."
Nicknames:Â Who would honestly dare nickname Callum?
Height:Â 5' 10"Â
Weight:Â Â 172 lb
Eye Color:Â Blue
Hair Color: Blond
Noteable Physical Traits:Â How muscular/lean he is despite his age. Less noteable would be scars from a time when he had less power and found himself in more physical altercations.
Important/Usual Accessories:Â Reading glasses, cellphone, pistol w/ an extra clip and a silencer.
Tattoos and/or piercings: None.
Sexuality: Heterosexual.Â
THE QUESTIONNAIRE:
1. What does your character enjoy doing in their free time?
Callum doesn’t usually have free time considering his responsibilities as both the president of Abstergo Industries as well as being the Grand Master Templar. But on days when he isn’t required to rush to work behind a desk or thwart attempts on his life, he enjoys to cook.
However, since the last real family meal he’s prepared, it’s lost a bit of it’s flavor. (i.e. when his wife was murdered)
2. What are some of the things that your character likes and dislikes?
Obviously, Callum prefers a Templar over an Assassin any day of the week. But he also appreciates a person who is certain and true in their convictions. He’s dealt with far too many incompetent people along his journey to the top.
He’s also quite taken with the Animus Project that Abstergo is working descreetly on. So much so that when news or location of an Assassin comes to him, he asks of their family records before sending out a kill order. It is a project he’s hoping to expand to public market within the next ten years.
               He also likes cats, honey in his tea, and  The Eagles.
3. How does your character want to be perceived by others?
As a leader, which he’s already attained. He knows that many people perceive him as a villain or a bad guy but he honestly doesn’t believe the world is as black and white as that. The goal of the Templars is something he believes is true and the right way to govern a society. If he has to be a monster to attain such a goal, so be it.
4. What is your character’s greatest fear?
With so many dead Grand Masters before him, Callum is not scared of dying without purpose.
But what he is afraid of is dying without giving Lily the best life he can give her. Every attempt on his life is an attempt on hers. Who will watch out for her when he is gone? Who is watching out for her now?
5. What motivates your character? Would they sacrfice themselves for anything, and if so, what?
Callum is motivated by the beliefs he was bred into. Walking into Abstergo HQ every day and seeing the research being done is enough to know that success is just around the corner.
Callum is willing to sacrifice himself for both his duties as a Grand Master and duties as a father. He is not afraid of death.
6. Write a headcanon for your character about anything.
Callum has recently been going to a specialist about a cough that comes and goes. A lump has been found in his lungs before but it came back benign.Â
"If there’s anything you should learn about me today, it’s that I’m never the bearer of bad news,” she replied easily in almost a laugh, undeterred by the bluntness or the sarcasm.Â
Mickey gladly accepted the offer, sliding fluidly into the seat across the desk. She crossed her legs as she relaxed into the chair, smile only encouraged by the flattery whether it was sincere or not. “I’ve had a few wires hidden in two of the back booths at the restaurant. If anyone comes in we need to know about, I can have them set up back there, complete with full audio playback, should anything interesting come up,” she explained as she ran a few fingers through her hair like this was a perfectly normal conversation to be having.Â
If her explanation of wires and possibilities were meant to impress Callum, he wasn't. Of those he personally allowed into the Templar order, especially the one stationed here in NYC, he expected the best. Using her restaurant as a cover and a trap was especially high on his expectations of the woman.
But her confidence or allure was surprisingly refreshing, despite how often he clashed with such egos. And so he paid no mind.
"Here," Callum murmured, standing from the seat in order to head to a nearby set of drawers. Using a key tucked safely within his pocket, the man removed a bound envelope and nothing more. "Contained within this folder are a number of potential Assassins. I expect their faces to be seared into your brain and this file destroyed as soon as possible."
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Bradley chuckled softly, knowing exactly how Callum felt. “I understand where you’re coming from,” he said, looking down at the floor before back up at the man. “Amber is completely taken by the university. I believe her and Lily even know one another, if I’m correct.” He’d almost forgotten the first time Amber had brought the redhead home, explaining that the two of them had a project they’d be working on.
Following after the Grand Master, Bradley turned his eyes out the window, taking in the sight of the New York’s towering buildings. Each one more memorable than the last. “Their only knowledge is that I work for Abstergo as the Human Resource Manager,” he explained honestly.
That wasn’t to say his siblings had tried to pry further, but Bradley had only explained the necessities to them. Any information on his role as a Templar was completely hidden from the two of them. And it would stay that way for as long as he was alive. “I ran into Darius Cardei the other day,” he sighed. “I was shocked to find him still in town.”
Callum nodded, truly understanding how secretive their duties truly were. If Amber and Lily had crossed paths, he was the farthest from being aware. A small tendril of shame uncoiled from the back of his mind, the reminder of his shame oozing as it passed through his thoughts. Not shame of his duties as a Templar leader but of 'what might have been' had he not been such a danger.Â
It disappeared as quickly as it had emerged.
At the mention of Darius Cardei, however, Callum hardened considerably. Eyes turning to the streets below, he watch New Yorkers go about their day like a child might watch an ant colony.
"I'm certainly not shocked that he's here. Reports indicate that the Assassins are attempting to expand and who better to protect than the Templar rebel," He murmured, eyes narrowing. "Regardless of whether or not he's allied with them, Mr. Rogers, I expect you to report his sighting immediately--"
