shared_worlds:benjamin_upham
Differences
This shows you the differences between two versions of the page.
Both sides previous revisionPrevious revisionNext revision | Previous revision | ||
shared_worlds:benjamin_upham [2013/02/17 14:38] – Petike | shared_worlds:benjamin_upham [2020/02/04 00:13] (current) – Updating to new link format eofpi | ||
---|---|---|---|
Line 3: | Line 3: | ||
=== Session 1 === | === Session 1 === | ||
- | **[[http:// | + | **[[https:// |
My name is, well, I've gone through quite a few, really, but this is the one I was born with: Benjamin Upham. I was born in a town in the south west of England in the Year of Our Lord Thirteen Hundred and Thirty Five, in mid-December, | My name is, well, I've gone through quite a few, really, but this is the one I was born with: Benjamin Upham. I was born in a town in the south west of England in the Year of Our Lord Thirteen Hundred and Thirty Five, in mid-December, | ||
Line 17: | Line 17: | ||
=== Session 2 === | === Session 2 === | ||
- | **[[http:// | + | **[[https:// |
I married at sixteen, not unusual for those times. Her name was Mary-Jo, daughter of the local smith. I was only three years older than her, her age at marriage being normal for those times too. Sure a couple of children followed, but not as fast as one would have expected at the time. Sort of like my parents. | I married at sixteen, not unusual for those times. Her name was Mary-Jo, daughter of the local smith. I was only three years older than her, her age at marriage being normal for those times too. Sure a couple of children followed, but not as fast as one would have expected at the time. Sort of like my parents. | ||
Line 28: | Line 28: | ||
I really did love Mary-Jo, and I am my father' | I really did love Mary-Jo, and I am my father' | ||
+ | |||
+ | === Session 3 === | ||
+ | |||
+ | **[[https:// | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Kings who ruled what is now the north of Spain were always in need of soldiers to fight their wars against Muslim Al-Andalus. While most of their recruits were religious nuts and homicidal maniacs, there were many who had more worldly reasons for going. The pay was reasonable for the time, though not for the risks that one would have to take. (Trust me, it never is. I've served in many armies and that has been a constant. Along with foul-mouthed drill sergeants.) The nobles were usually idiots. (Another constant.) And to this day I can remember the ear-blistering rant that the Seargent at Arms went off on when one of the other recruits asked him a question. He wasn't helped that it was a stupid question. From my own prior experience, I knew to remain quiet and do as I was told. (I was also helped by the fact that I could already read and speak French. Made it easier to learn Spanish and I could at least get what most of was being said right from the beginning.) Unfortunately said NCO picked up on my having 'prior experience' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Rule #1 for infantrymen facing a cavalry charge: Don't run away from them, they' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Rule #2: Bring a pike and make sure that your friends do the same. Better that the horseman or his horse gets stuck on a pointy stick, right? | ||
+ | |||
+ | (One of the few joyful sights I saw over the course of the First World War was a cavalry regiment being machine gunned. The horse soldier is gone from this earth, struck down and banished by technology. The foot soldier marches on. Well, better yet, thanks to technology, we don't have to walk quite as much. Trucks, APCs and helicopters have seen to that.) | ||
+ | |||
+ | Getting impaled on a lance hurt. And then I passed out. I came to at night wondering what had just happened and where everybody had got to. The I got a look at where the hole was in my hauberk. Yeah, that was scary. I ditched it and went looking for what remained of my men. Took a replacement off of one who'd taken a sword trough the neck. (He had no head, but also no holes in his armour or shirt.) And then I sort of started wandering as this was not something that I was ready to explain, not to my superiors nor to anyone else. Not that it mattered when I did get found: The Seargent at Arms and our priest both had me made when they'd first met me. The former had served with my father years before and had also not been young even then. he'd learned his trade in a Roman legion fifteen centuries before and had been a Sergeant (or as he put it, Centurion) ever since. The latter was also another of our kind who'd become a priest because the Church had been the first group that had actually given him something that he could believe in. It wasn't that hard for them to gin up a story of ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | I was careful, I didn't get much worse than a few cuts over the next 30 years. I also didn't attract attention to myself and periodically 'went home'. Military life suited me, so I always found service in an army, either in Spain or elsewhere. Usually in Spain though. I like that it wasn't cold in the winter. I knew well enough to change my name to something that fits the background I claimed upon arrival, but that's a given. And as my French was better than my English at this point, I'd usually go by French Names, or Hispanisized versions thereof. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The next hundred years passed much the same way: Fight the Saracen, and usually win. Every decade or so head off to Italy for some mercenary work and to keep people from noticing things. Come back and do it all again. In the 1490s that all changed. First Granada finally fell and the Reconquista was complete. That was in 1492. And second, this crazy Italian sailed across the fucking Atlantic and fucking came back. Oh, and he found land, people and rumours of gold. Ironically I was about to head off back to Italy at the time. I'm glad that I didn't go with the first or the second bunch who went to the 'New World' | ||
+ | |||
+ | New Spain and the Caribbean were a vibrant place. Especially once people other than the Spanish started to move in. The power hungry in Spain liked that about as well as one would expect. Portuguese, French, English pirates. Yeah, the place got busy. More places to hide too. It also helped me brush up on my languages. (Well, apart from a couple of native ones that had gone extinct soon after I'd become fluent. Go through all that trouble and, well you know.) Oh, and get the accents down right. I'm a natural mimic, so that's easy once I get into practice. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Did jobs on land. Not all of those involved killing people. Worked aboard ships, and not all of those jobs were honest. Pirates are assholes and are not to be trusted. (A bunch who'd robbed me in Jamaica were some surprised when I came looking for them then next day. they really weren' | ||
+ | |||
+ | More than century of Wandering about the Caribbean and the New World eventually brought me north to a place called Boston. I found that in my heart I was still an Englishman after all. I also met this pretty Irish girl there. Wasn't expecting that hot redhead to be something close to my age. Those of our kind are rare indeed. Believe it or not, she'd never met another like her before then and had thus only relied upon her wits to survive and thrive for 300 years. Shann is such a clever girl. | ||
+ | |||
+ | === Session 3 === | ||
+ | |||
+ | **[[https:// | ||
+ | |||
+ | __[[Prometheus]]: | ||
+ | |||
+ | __Benjamin: | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | === Session 4 === | ||
+ | |||
+ | **[[https:// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Ah, yes, where was I? Oh, Boston. My arrival in Massachusetts was quiet. Quiet I like, doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The redhead was still there when I came to. She'd had her suspicions about my true nature, but first had needed proof quickly, before I could realize my potential to cause trouble, and second hadn't actually ever dealt with another of our kind. She'd only ever heard rumours. As she put it, she 'knew how to spot those who don't fit in'. Only appropriate given that she'd been in the business of ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Let's just say that Shann knew (not only knew, knows, as learning secrets is about the only thing she likes as much as fucking) many things. Knowledge, and the controlled release thereof, kept her in business and alive. If the high-and-mighty types who ran both Boston and Massachusetts didn't want their private lives to become public, they didn't inquire too much about Shann or her business. And they most definitely didn't dare shut her down. Doing either, or not shutting down the questions about her apparent prolonged youth, would lead to some embarrassing revelations. Either about what got them off (the number of powerful men of good standing who were into buggery or bestiality still astounds me), or even more scandalous, about just how well Shann knows their wife, sister or daughter. (Another constant: Two women, together, will always be more attractive than just one.) A certain drop-dead gorgeous redhead swings both ways. And so she, and her establishement, | ||
+ | |||
+ | On the one hand, my presence quieted the powerful by giving the belief that the spitfire has finally been leashed. On the other I could go places that she couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The question then became: How do you kill that which cannot die? The two of us needed the whole of a century to figure that one out. (We probably could have done it faster, but relocating and changing identities while keeping the target in sight isn't easy and was obviously time consuming. The last thing either of us wanted was for him to find out what we had in store for him before we were ready. There was also the matter of a lack of test subjects and the fact that we both intended to survive the job. That made the test subjects we had (us) irreplaceable...) It also bonded us together in way that only eternals can understand. So one day in 1776, while traitors rose against the crown, Shann and I answered our question: How do you kill that which cannot die? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Yes, I know that I'm admitting to having killed another of our kind. And to having done so in way that meant actual, permanent death. He had it coming, trust me. Oathbreaker, | ||
+ | |||
+ | === Session 5 === | ||
+ | |||
+ | **[[https:// | ||
+ | |||
+ | Back when I'd assumed my father' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Upholding the laws of the land usually meant making sure that people either do as their liege says or suffer the consequences of disobedience, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Such was the case in 1357 when I'd had to deal with a pair of brutal murders. The victims were both young women, and let's just say that they hadn't died easy. I'd had a suspect (let's just say that with the evidence that I had on him, I was expecting the trial and subsequent proceedings to be finished by sundown) and a warrant for his arrest, and was deeply embarrassed to find that the bugger had skipped town and disappeared off of the face of the earth before I could get my hands on him. For the next three centuries I assumed that the fucker had lived out his life elsewhere and had then gone to 'the hot place' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In 1671 I met what turned out to be another one of his victims. I recounted that meeting last time. Three years later, in 1674, I discovered the murdering son of a bitch was one of us. He'd cheated death, and for all I knew would continue to cheat death. Even though there hadn't been any murders that could be linked to him, I knew that he'd killed before I'd encountered him, had killed since and that it was only a matter of time before he killed again. The problem was that he was one of us and thus could not die. Stabbing him would be pointless. Hanging him wouldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Lots of thought went into that. Using what sources we had , Shann and I learned what we could about our kind. What had been inadvertently documented, what could be inferred by it's absence and so on. The half-mythological tales of the Revevant or Vampyre. Those who'd come back from the dead. We'd had to be discreet, and we'd had to spend a good deal of money getting the books that we'd found that we'd needed shipped across the Atlantic. We'd also both had to ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It's severed head. | ||
+ | |||
+ | To kill one of our kind for good, you chop off his head. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense. Why are traitors beheaded? Why was beheading the usual sentence for corrupt or murderous nobility, while hanging was that for the rabble? Where are you most likely to find an eternal? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Even the ephemerals knew how to kill us, and they'd always had known. You kill an eternal by chopping off his head, and keeping it from being reattached until after the body has cooled. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Justice would finally be served. But events in the colony had taken on a life of their own. We were surrounded by oathbreakers. The traitors who called themselves ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | In the end it was easy. Shann and I broke into his house late at night. He'd known that she'd survived, well more like 'come back after succumbing to' his ministrations. He'd also be sure that she didn't know he was there. He'd taken a perverse pleasure in living right under her nose, and had been planning to rub it in. He was some surprised to see her that night, with the realization that she knew who and what he was. He was even more surprised to see me. The whole "' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It's a little known fact that when one is beheaded, one an remain conscious for ten to thirty seconds, until the last of the blood drains out and the brain is starved for oxygen and nutrients. Such was the case here when Shann grabbed hold of the severed head, looked it right in the eyes, and smiled that sweet, innocent smile of hers. She watched, smiling, as the life left than man's eyes forever. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Due to our obviously public loyalty to the Crown, Shann and I were both forced to leave Massachusetts for Canada. We settled in Halifax in late 1783. Our wrath had borne bitter fruit indeed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | To this day I spit whenever I see the flag of the United States of America. If it's possible, I'll spit on that flag. Hopefully I'll outlive the country that flies it. | ||
+ | |||
+ | === Session 6 === | ||
+ | |||
+ | **[[https:// | ||
+ | |||
+ | So it was that we were exiled to what is now the Canadian province of Nova Scotia in 1783. Halifax, the capitol of the Colony of Nova scotia and the main British naval base in North America, now that New York was lost to treason, was a frozen shithole swamped with refugees. Many of the displaced loyalists were ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | It was in the tenth year of our exile that I had the first of a series of unexpected reunions. Our kind are not common. Including myself, I knew of the existence of six of us. Myself. My father. Shann. Padre Elijah. The Centurion. And the late and unlamented Beast. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The first reunion was not completely unexpected, beyond the question of 'what took so long?': | ||
+ | |||
+ | The second reunion came as an absolute shock. Well, it was actually two separate reunions and the beginning of a friendship with yet another of our kind, but they all came at the same time. As I said during the course of our first session: Must be genetic, as I still can count one brother, several children, and my father among the living. As far as I know anyways. I was reunited with my younger and only brother. And I met his wife. Who he'd married in Scotland in 1475. There are genetics involved in our condition, even if the whole picture hasn't yet been figured out. We know more now than we knew than, and most of what we know has been learned only in the last ten years. Mom had to have been a near miss, a person who had most of the markers that make us what we are. Not all of them, but enough to fill in the gaps left over from father' | ||
+ | |||
+ | To us, the number of known eternals was now nine. The ones known to my brother or to my father increased that total to twenty one. A study of what papers we'd taken from The Beast revealed that he'd known or known of an additional thirty of our kind. And that he'd had copies of those documents, that we either hadn't taken, hadn't found or hadn't had time to burn. That meant that we had inadvertently revealed them to others. I mentioned the consequences of that last time, but I forgot to mention that I had no idea at the time of just how much damage I'd done in one night. The fact that the rebellion had only gotten stronger as time went on, no matter the force that was brought to bear against them, had baffled me. As had the fact that the Patriots had gained allies from those who should have known that helping them went against their own long term interests, as subsequent events in France had demonstrated quite starkly. | ||
+ | |||
+ | There were more of out kind about that I'd realized, hoped or feared. Hopefully there aren't too many grudges held from that. I know that it is a belated admission, but the passage of time does calm tempers. All I can do really is apologize and say that I have learned that there may be unintended consequences to action that I undertake. Next time an eternal proves to be a murderous son-of-a-bitch, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Oh, and less than 30 years after I was chased out of Boston, I got a chance to give the traitors a bloody nose. It wasn't the crushing victory that I'd hoped for (had the frogs rolled over sooner it would have been), but the sods got a bloody nose and learned that they could, in fact, be beaten. | ||
+ | |||
+ | ==== Personal information ==== | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Birth Name:** Benjamin Upham\\ | ||
+ | **Birth Date:** 13? December 1335\\ | ||
+ | **Birth Place:** < | ||
+ | **Status at Birth:** Firstborn son of the Sheriff of < | ||
+ | **Relation to other Eternals:** Son of Joesph Upham of < | ||
+ | **Current Pseudonym: | ||
+ | **Past Pseudonyms: | ||
+ | **Current Home:** < | ||
+ | **Past Homes:** < | ||
+ | **Current Occupation: | ||
+ | **Skills:** Swordfighting, | ||
+ | **Languages Spoken:** English, French, Spanish, < | ||
==== See Also ==== | ==== See Also ==== | ||
- | **[[Autobiographies of Eternals|Eternal Autobiography Interviews | + | **[[The Trust]]** |
+ | |||
+ | ==== Navigation ==== | ||
+ | |||
+ | **[[Autobiographies of Eternals|Eternal Autobiography Interviews]]** | ||
**[[AH.com Eternals]]** | **[[AH.com Eternals]]** | ||
- | **[[The Trust]]** |
shared_worlds/benjamin_upham.1361129892.txt.gz · Last modified: 2019/03/29 15:18 (external edit)