Chapter Text
Living in Sparta was never easy for anyone. Living in the time that he was wasn’t easy, with the constant though of war in the back of everyone's mind, it wasn’t easy. The Spartans were trained for this so it wasn’t exactly like he was scared or anything. It was just a case of who they were fighting. Going on what his father had told him, war was against The Athenians, the Persians and in some cases their own slaves. So it was understandable.
When they heard new that the Persians were invading Greece, the Spartans army were just waiting to see who was called, only 300 were to be chosen to go. The honour of Sparta depends on those few.
-
Nikon Gyras was sat with his wife when he first heard the news. Not something you really wanted to hear in a time where he hardly saw his wife anyway. But a royal messenger came to him; this is where his fate was sealed.
"Nikon Gyras, son of Dion. King Leonidas has requested that you join him in Thermopylae. You will leave after the dawn after the next full moon. May the Gods be with you"
And that was it; he was going on his first battle experience. After only be coming of age two years ago he was surprised that the king though him of being worthy enough to join him on such an important occasion. Or, maybe the king thought that he was a good man to just let die. Either way he was going to die. And although he was proud to represent his country he wanted to survive a bit longer. His wife was heavily pregnant; he was going to have a child!
"Ares, God of war, please help the war, I would like to live long enough to see my son, help the kings. God bless you" He said under his breath, smiling at the irony of his last statement.
He turned to his wife, who then simple handed his shield to him and said
"With it or on it"
And with that he turned to his wife, kissed her goodbye and went to prepare
-
The journey to Thermopylae was less eventful the Nikon first expected. In the fact that, nothing happened for two weeks, and with the words of his wife in mind, he kind of wanted the battle to start already.
Two weeks went on and finally things were happening, but not in the way Nikon would have hoped. The Persians seems to be attacking, and they were not prepared in the slightest. Looking at the sight of thousands of men walking in formation towards them he was terrified. Looking at his shield he sighed
"I guess I'll be on it" he said sadly.
Halfway into the battle is when it went to shit. The King fell. Determined not to let the enemy destroy his body, the Spartans rushed forwards, Nikon included. Finding himself fighting one-on-one with a Persian soldier. He finally felt peace with himself, lifting his sword to place a fatal blow on the enemy he had to stop mid-swing. Feeling a small jab near his chest. Looking down he was faced with the unfamiliar sight of a sword piercing his chest. Struggling to breathe he fell to the ground, looking around he saw his comrades fall around him.
With his final breath he says
"Zeus, have mercy on my soul"
He just hopes that his death is not in vein
-
On the whole, Nikon never expected to wake up again. Especially not surround by countless bodies, both of enemies and friends. It was almost sad. He was brought up in a life that dying in battle was magnificent, but this was… different. Everyone was just mutilated, body parts were just lying everywhere. Not a very nice sight for anyone.
But… how did he survive, were the gods looking down on him in favour, or were they punishing him for some reason. Either way he couldn’t go home. If everyone thought he was dead then it would be better alive he supposed.
So turning his back on the world he simply left. Left Greece and his family. And went all the way to Rome where he then re appeared after a few stupid from things like starvation and getting attacked by a pack of wolves. That wasn’t a very pleasant experience.
Rome was a lot different than Greece, more civilised. He liked it better here. There was a smaller chance that he would be killed for not doing anything. He slowly lived his life for a few decades, moving around when people noticed he hadn’t actually aged at all.
‘That’s one benefit of keeping life’ He thought, he always did like how he looked, and that was ok.
Soon, however, he found himself without any money. So he had to either had to find a job, or just keep starving. The first option seemed a bit nicer and do-able. So he looked around the town and the only job he could find was in the colosseum. Although it wasn’t preferable, he had some fighting experience. Surviving the agoge would be enough experience and skill making that would suit him fine.
So, this was his life now. Fighting animals and humans alike. Killing mercilessly and after a few years, without a care. Getting too used to the feeling to feel the normal things like guilt. However, he also got bored and wanted to change. So the undefeated champion of 6 years finally gave his final match, and he made sure that he was not forgotten any time soon. Overreacting when his opponent gave the fatal blow, lifting the moods in his favour. Also ensuring that his opponent also was sentenced to execution. He wasn’t just going to let him get away with someone killing him.
He woke up in a ditch, turned his back and left once more. Going to see what the fuss was about surrounding the new Roman conquered England.
-
England was… underwhelming. Everything smelled, of poop. But it was still charming in a smelly poopy kind of way. So he decided to stay. Not really needing a job, he found himself just stealing food rather than buying it. So he decided there and then, he was to become a criminal. Which wasn’t really so bad, no one knew who he was so why not?
However, after a couple of hundred years theft became boring, and his name didn’t really fit with the place he was in anymore. So he changed himself completely, new name, new job and new clothes. They were very important.
He decided to become a highway man, stealing from journeying people. Made it even harder to track him down, if he actually gets caught that is. So he changed his name to suit him, one that people with know. One that they will remember.
Dick Turpin
It was perfect; it suited him, named after an old friend of him. Well he says friend, he didn’t know his name. But he was a dick. He stayed like this for many years, robbing people at gunpoint. Occasionally killing them when they didn’t give him anything. But once again he got bored, it was getting to easy. No real challenges, people knew his face but no one made an effort to capture him. He was also getting quite lonely, he no friends or relations. No one to talk to either.
‘Well, time to settle down’ He though ‘Good bye Dick, I hope people remember you’
So, contrary to popular belief. He got caught on purpose and, like he thought, was hung.
-
When he woke next, his neck really hurt.
‘Never again’ he thought ‘Well let’s go’
And he took off to London. Here he had multiple jobs, none on the right side of the law. Changed his name to James, after one of the Kings.
‘James, James what though?’
He needed a bit more of a name. Looking around in the barn he was currently staying in
‘What’s here; straw, wood, cows, hay. What can I do with that’ he thought ‘Woodcow? No, Strawwood? Nah, Haycow? No! Haywood! That seems alright. Well James Haywood, let’s introduce you to the world’
That was his life. Going around London scaring the citizens to death. Literally sometimes. He gained a few nicknames over time. His favourite being ‘Jack the Ripper’, very mysterious. Very cool
However like most people. He found America. And fell in love.
-
In the 1880s, he decided to quit the criminal life. There wasn’t much you could do in America, so he found a small job. As a newspaper seller. This is where he met Ryan. For some reason he liked Ryan. A sweet young kid, too young to be homeless. Just helpless. So James took him under his wing, looking after him. Until one day
“Hey, Jimmy” The young boy come into James’ view. Yet slightly hidden
“Yeah Rye, what’s wrong?” For some reason a fatherly instinct kicked in. Looking around the boy he saw a couple behind him. They were wearing nice clothes…weird “Who are your friends?” He asked
“Jimmy, I’m going to stay with these people, they say they want to help me! With food! Give me an education, that’s reading and stuff Jim!” He looked at James with eyes full of excitement “I wanted to say bye, because I do like you. I just want to help you in the future, I’ll come back I promise. I’ll even buy the papers!”
With every word that Ryan spoke James felt his heart break a little with every word. This boy he had grown to love was just leaving him. He was hurt, but Ryan looked to happy. Regretting what he was about to say, he looked at Ryan in the eyes and said
“That is so great Rye! You’re going to be a little Einstein, But do me one favour ok? Remember that old man who taught you how to be a manipulative little shit, ok? That will come in handy some point…” Looking at Ryan he saw that the young but was about to burst into tears. Pulling him for a hug, he let Ryan take the last bit of normalness that James hoped to have for his future.
As Ryan left James finally gave up and sat in silent sobs, mourning his son he never got to have. This was the last time he was going to care for someone. Jam- no. Ryan, that’s how he could keep his son alive to him. He’ll just go by Ryan now. For people he likes.
Ryan was now done with living the side of the law, stepping into the street he headed for Los Santos, the mind of a criminal setting in. Well, it was nice while it lasted
-
He met the crew not in the best light. Around the 2000s was when it happened. He was a criminal, in a nice little crew. Led by the infamous Edgar. Edgar was not a nice guy, to anyone. All Ryan wanted to do was leave. But he couldn’t. Ryan was Edgars little “Vagabond”, which apparently was him codename now.
One day, Edgar gave Ryan a job. He had to take out someone called ‘Gavino’. Stupid little hacker getting on Edgars nerves.
‘Poor kid’ Ryan thought but never the less set out to get his target. He never failed.
Although what he never considered was that they were waiting for him. All five of them. Moustache, beard, shades, curly and pinky. Guns in his face, how did this happen.
“Vagabond, also known as Ryan. James. Right?” moustache spoke
“What’s it to you” He replied, bracing himself for another death, those weren’t uncommon anymore but he still hated it. Death was never fun. Moustache spoke up again
“You’re immortal right? We’ve had our little Gavino track you, not hack into Edgar stuff, the guys a dick y’know” Wha- How did he-
“I don’t understand” He really didn’t, for once in a while, he had no idea what’s going on. For someone who’s been living for thousands of years why was he so stupid.
“Don’t worry man, we are too” The beard spoke up. “Sorry this but be a big shock but… I’m Jack; we just have a little proposition for you. Geoff” Prompting moustache on
“Geoff Ramsey, Hi. You hate Edgar right? Well so do we. Yay! So we want you on our side, benefits include most of Los Santos and the freedom of Edgar. So what say you?”
He was not expecting that. A job offer, away from Edgar. With other immortals. Was he dreaming?
“Yo, asshole, answer him. It’s a simple yes or no. Not fucking rocket science” curly said, clearly irritated about being left hanging
Staring right at Geoff, Ryan smiled his soon to be signature grin “Geoff, I’m in”
His answer was met with a shot in the face and death.
-
So that was his life now. The famous Vagabond in the famous Fake AH Crew
He never forgot some of his names or lives. Especially His first, his wife and unborn child. Never forgotten in his mind. Ryan still goes about his mind, wandering if he ever came back to their spot looking for him. Still, he was happy now. A happy little murder machine. He could live with that.