sixthiterationlogs | You Should Have Known Better

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You Should Have Known Better

WHO: Ezio Auditore
WHERE: Fountain, Around Lucy's House, The Inn & South Village
WHEN: Week of Jan. 18th - 25th
OPEN TO: Arrival Closed To Lucy; all other prompts are OTA!
WARNINGS: Descriptions Of Near Drowning - Will Update If Needed!

Arrival; Locked To Lucy

It was wonderous and terrifying just how quickly your life could change in an instant. In a single blink of an eye everything you thought you knew could be completely shattered and pieced back together.

Yet Ezio had felt absolutely no fear as he had lept from the tower, following his fellow assassins down, down, down in the final part of the initiation ritual he had just partaken in, after being trained and groomed for years to take his place in this secret society. How he had never suspected, had never known, had never realized that all this time, this was what his father had been doing. What his uncle had been preparing him for.

There should be an end to the falling, a pile of soft hay to break his landing, leaving him to pop out and continue on with his work. But there isn't. There is no end, only sinking, deeper and deeper, like a stone in a lake with no bottom as an inky blackness encloses around him.

When he wakes it's to the sensation of drowning, mouth opening to grasp for air only to find nothing but water rushing down his throat and into his lungs. For a moment, brief and heart-stopping, where he's certain that this is it, this is how he's going to die. It wouldn't be some templar sword that finally ended him, but an ocean of murky water with no way out.

But there's sun shining from above, and he shoves against something solid, forces his way to the top just before his lungs give out and he's left gasping and coughing up disgusting mouthfuls of water, clinging to the side of the fountain.

Inn; Open To All

After being literally ripped away from his world and dumped unceremoniously into a fountain - and then being hauled out of said fountain by a girl who was literally half his size - Ezio isn't exactly feeling his normal self. Especially considering the fact that everything had been taken from him. His father's robes, his dual hidden blades and all of the attachments that Leonardo had worked so tirelessly to replicate for him.

But he is clean and he is dry, which is a far better state than he had arrived in. He had been told that there was food to be had at the Inn, and so that's where he's currently headed. Once there, he'll indeed find his way into the kitchen and retrieve a bowl of whatever happens to be on the stove, before sitting rather unceremoniously into the nearest chair. He had been told there would be days like this, of course, but he was pretty certain this wasn't what his uncle had meant.

South Village; Open To All

In the days following his arrival, Ezio had spent most of his time either in the Inn, reading the complete history of the village, or in the library, attempting to do as much research as possible. Just because everyone said there wasn't a known and sure-fire way to leave didn't mean he wasn't going to attempt to find one.

Once night fell, however, he would set out on his own, running along the rooftops of the nearby houses, formulating paths in his mind of the best routes to take. To and from the inn, naturally. To and from the library. To and from the outer edges of the village, just in case. It was freezing and the roofs were often slippery, and more than once he lost his footing and slid far more than he would have liked. Especially considering he was unused to the boots and clothing that he had been given. Occasionally, he would stumble upon an abandoned house and poke around it in, with the hopes that he would find something more suitable. Leather gloves for a better grip, or shoes with more flexible soles.

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"I suppose that is true." Actually, in all honesty, he was almost surprised that he wasn't. For a moment there, he had been convinced that perhaps he had made a miscalculation and had missed the pile of hay and had effectively fallen to his death.

He could hear them all speaking about it at his funeral now.

"A pleasure, Lucy." It would, of course, he much more pleasurable if they weren't currently freezing. But he had been born and raised as a noble, and he had never forgotten his manners. "I'm Ezio."

Either the wind had taken the words off his lips and carried them off or she'd misheard. The latter was the better road to take, and that was why Lucy Stillman snorted and snickered like he'd said something funny.

"I'm sure it is."

It wasn't funny. She should've put one and one together. But in this cold? One and two weren't adding up either. They were about to reach the bend in the road; that would take out of the direct path of the wind. All she could think about was getting a fire going in the fireplace the second they got inside.

There was something peculiar about the way she had reacted to something so seemingly simple. What was it that was suppose to be funny? His name? Or the fact that it was a pleasure to meet her?

But it was still absolutely freezing and his entire body was shivering now, and he wondered why anyone would ever want to live where the actual air hurt their face.

"You will have to forgive me. It is too cold to properly show you just how much of a pleasure it is."

Well, at least he waited a whole ass minute to flirt with her.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll be a while before you do that,” she tossed back at him as she tried to hurry them closer to her home. “By the time we reach my place, I’ll be leaving you outside like an ice statue.” ‘Cause damn was it freezing today! They were both thoroughly frozen. She really hoped neither of them ended up with frostbite.

But hey—a whole ass minute was all he’d waited? He was slipping.

Lucy extended a hand, shakily pointing out her house that they were approaching. “There, that’s me. Once—once we’re inside, I’ll need you to strip o-off everything. There’s extra clothes in the black bag you ha-have.”

"You could. But would that not make all of your neighbors jealous?" There's a smirk that crossed his features as he says it, even if it is slightly lopsided due to the fact that he can absolutely no longer feel his face.

God, he really is. He needs to up his game. He should have come out of the fountain already flirting. He'll do better next time, coach.

"Trying to get me naked already?" Even if the idea of stripping out of the thin, completely soaked scrubs he was currently wearing into some clean and dry and now icing over sounded really, really good right about now.

She would roll her eyes and make a face at him for the first comment if her face didn’t feel so frozen.

“I know I’m not the first and I know I wouldn’t be your last,” Lucy at least was able to snipe back, her chuckle wheezy and faint from the cold. “C’mon, in we go.”

Thank god. They’d reached the front path that had been poorly shoveled out leading to the front steps. She didn’t think she would have to urge him to move faster, there was no doubt that he’d want to get out of the chill and wind sooner than her being as he was soaked through like a rag. Once they do get inside, Lucy guides him to the fireplace; she’s not worried about herself, she’s genuinely concerned about him catching a cold or worse, her hands pulling off the jacket she’d thrown over him. The arms are pulled inside out and she’s hooking it as close as she can to the fire, which she then shakily moves to add more logs to.

The interior of the house is much warmer than outside with the old-style furnace that warms it, but what Ezio really needs is to be as close to the fire as he can handle.

Her fingers are numb, her cheeks stinging from the wind. Lucy’s fairly positive she can’t feel the tips of her ears. “Wet clothes off. Dry ones in the bag. I’ll grab the blankets from the bedrooms.” And then she’s leaving him to get to it, shivering like mad.

Honestly, he wants to say something in return. The words are already on his tongue, just waiting for be formed.

But then they reach the actual path to her house and the thought is lost because all of the blood that is going to his legs in an attempt to get them inside as quickly as possible.

When the warmth hits him it's like an instant sense of relief, and he takes a moment to simply stand and bask in it, before she's pushing him closer to the fire, removing the now dripping wet coat from his shoulders and demanding him to strip and change.

Each piece of clothing makes a sickening squelch as it's removed from his body and hung close to the fire. Once bare, he moves to the black bag that he had arrived with, looking inside and quickly finding blissfully dry articles. Underwears, jeans and socks had all already been replaced when she returned, the shirt just barely having been slipped over his head.

Walking in on him pulling his shirt down over his head, Lucy gives him a brief look. This is nothing compared to what she’s seen already while sorting through Desmond’s Animus catalogued hours. It really feels strange that he’s there in the flesh, breathing, alive, talking to her. So strange. While she was away in her room she’d taken a chance to change her top, pulling on something a little heavier, long sleeved, something she’d dug up in the storeroom. Wrapped over her shoulders is her blanket off her bed but she moves forward and hands him the other blanket. The blanket from Connor’s old room.

“Here. Extra warmth. Wrap up and stay by the fire.” Lucy was moving to the kitchen. “I have some stew that’s probably still warm from earlier.” Earlier when she’d eaten, before going out to the inn and fountain area.

Ezio doesn't know that she's seen far worse. That she's seen so much of his life. Things that haven't even happened to him yet. There's so much he would want to know, even if it was probably for the best if he didn't.

He takes the blanket when it's offered, wrapping it around his shoulders in an attempt to ward off the remaining chill. A t-shirt was a far cry from the layers that compromised his robes, and he found himself missing the warmth of them.

"Grazie. But I'm not hungry." In fact he was certain if he ate now it would all just come right back up along with the rest of the water he had swallowed. "I would take some water, if you have it."

Lucy pauses at his request but continues on, disappearing for a moment. She returns with a cup of water and hands it off to him before she moves one of the armchairs as close as she can to the fireplace. “Then it’s there for you later, if you want any.”

Pins and needles have begun to cut through the earlier numbness in her fingers, the joints stiff as she tries to make fists and then stretch out her hands, fingers splayed. She’ll wait a few more moments before reaching out to Desmond on the new arrival.

“If you’re still cold, I think I have a few more blankets. Are you alright now?”

Everything about him is still painfully cold, from the tips of his ears all the way down to his toes. But the heat of the fire is slowly cutting through, thawing him from the outside in, even if he's certain his very bones have frozen over.

"What is this place?" Now that the immediate danger of drowning or freezing to death had been dealt with, the reality of the situation was starting to sink in. "I don't understand what's happened."

“It’s something else, that’s what it is.” She watches him, still not sure how to process that she’s sitting across from Ezio Auditore. Young, old, she’d seen it all. Up to a point. “But give me a second...”

Arm lifted, she’s activating her device, finding a contact, and she’s sending a short message: Door is unlocked. Come over. Now. Something’s happened.

“I know someone who can probably explain it a lot better than I can. All I can tell you is that you’re a long way from home and the world you’re used to. Ezio.”

Desmond stares at the message but doesn't hesitate from following it. If anything, he's slightly alarmed and concerned she's in trouble. He full out runs, although luckily he's not that far from her house, but he bounds in. Maybe Connor was back. Maybe something bad happened. Did Altair find out? "Luce, you okay?" It didn't matter when things were or weren't tense between them. He shows up.

He looks from her to quickly note the other person there, and it takes no time at all for him to recognize Ezio. He did live most of his life out. The longest of the three. "Ezio." Desmond is startled but he is getting a little better at this, trying to smile. Oh god where to start all over again. "Hey."

Have you ever had one of those moments where you're aware of that fact that something's just happened, but you have absolutely no idea exactly what it is?

Because Ezio is having that moment right now.

For a moment he does little more than stare at this new intruder, before glancing over questioningly at Lucy.

Then back at Desmond.

Then back at Lucy.

Then back at Desmond.

"Hello." What. The. Fuck. "Do I know you?"

Lucy offers Desmond a small smile once he appears in the living room. “I’m okay. We’re warming up.” She then nods in the direction of the kitchen. “There’s stew, if you want some. Help yourself.”

And then she tucks the blanket close around herself, legs drawn up underneath as she curls up in the armchair. This is going to be an interesting conversation to sit in on. She hadn’t done that with any that Desmond had had with Altaïr. Time to settle in.

“He’s a friend, Ezio. You can trust him.”

"I'm good." Fuck where to start. It was easier with Altair because he almost immediately connected that Desmond was the one Juno spoke of. Well, first he thought he was the prophet, Ezio, but there was background there. Ezio looks pretty young, not like the man he eventually became. How young, he couldn't exactly judge, but definitely early on. Man.

Desmond sits down nearby. He isn't actually cold, but it's easier. "I'm Desmond. Hi. I'm not entirely sure how to start this, but uh, I'm your descendant. Lucy and I here," a glance her way, "are from the future Order." Yep, that's what she was. "Long in the future, from the year 2012." He isn't sure how much sense any of this will make. He's starting slow.

"If you need proof, I can't exactly get you a birth certificate with my genealogy, but you can ask me something from your life, something personal, that might be passed down through family." And hopefully within the years that Desmond actually experienced well.

The answer to Desmond's question was that it made zero sense. Absolutely and completely zero. Now that he wasn't shivering too badly to even be able to see straight, he could clearly look around and realize just how different everything looked. Half of these things shouldn't exist. Not the radiate heat that definitely wasn't coming from the fire, and not the mysterious little device that was currently strapped to his wrist.

It takes a moment for all of it to compute within his mind, before he was shifting, lowering himself onto the floor, one leg curled in close to his body with the other bent, arms coming to rest on his knee.

On one hand, it was good to know that order had survived for so very long. And on the other -

- Desmond was his descendant. Holy. Shit.

"What was my father's name?" It was something relatively simple, but he hoped that it would have at least been passed down.

‘—the future Order.’ She doesn’t even acknowledge that glance, she keeps her gaze fixed on Ezio, a walking piece of history, like Altaïr. Like Connor. That was what she was, wasn’t she? From the future Order. The Templar Order, yes. She’d cut her ties to the Brotherhood years ago. But that was the story they were going with and sticking to. No cut ties. Everything and everyone still intact.

Lucy says nothing and pulls the blanket more around herself, finally breaking away to look at Desmond when Ezio askshis question.

Desmond also didn't look at Lucy so they could both focus on Ezio. It was a pretty easy question, so he gave a little more just to drive it home. "Your father's name is Giovanni, and your mother is Maria." He touched his lip, where his own scar was, and the one that Ezio mirrored. "You got this while fighting Vieri de' Pazzi and his gang, he threw a stone at you and it left a permanent scar."

He felt that was more than a Templar database would ever have, so hopefully it was enough. He wasn't entirely sure how much more he should tell him. With Connor it was accidental. With Altair slightly more deliberate. In this case? It was a lot to put on someone.

He finally glanced over at Lucy. "There's a machine in the future called the Animus. With it we can see parts of our ancestors' lives. So ... you could say I know you - we know you - a little better than stories passed down for generations." Since Lucy saw them too, even if she didn't live it like he did.

Fingers lift to his lips as Desmond mentions the origin of his scar, tips moving across the marred flesh, tracing the way it splits downwards. That was something that no one else would have known. Could have known. Only Frederico had ever heard the full story and he was -

- And he was gone.

Eyes travel from Desmond to Lucy and back again. It was a lot too place on someone, especially when that someone hadn't exactly experienced some of the stranger things that would take place within his life.

"So you are saying that you saw my life." Way to state the obvious, Ezio. "How much of it did you see?"

Lucy coughed at the question and uncurled from the chair, rising out of it. “You know what, I think I’ll get some of that stew.” She shot Desmond a glance and went around the chair, heading for the kitchen.

This was a conversation she didn’t need to be around for; they’d seen a lot. Ezio could probably strip completely and neither of them would bat an eye. Hell, she hadn’t when she walked in on him halfway in pulling his shirt on. Unless they stopped her or called her back, she was taking her blanket with her and leaving them be. If anything, she could hear them as she wouldn’t be far, provided they didn’t suddenly go hush-hush on her.

Desmond returned that glance with a raised eyebrow, but yeah, he got it. This was his problem now, she got them this far. He glanced back toward Ezio. "I saw from right around when you got the scar and then into your fifties. I didn't see every single moment of your life, but most of the major events." And some of the less major events. As for Lucy, later in his life happened when Desmond was in a coma. But that means both of them knew more about what happened to Ezio than he did, since he was in his early twenties by appearance.

"We had no idea some day we might actually meet you. It's been centuries." They were more like historical figures or characters in a book, although Desmond had a more personal connection to them, having been the vessel for the knowledge. He looked up at Ezio and rubbed his hands nervously. "I'm sorry, I know it's weird, but we are your friends, if you want them. You are something of a legend, Ezio, you did a great deal for the Order and helped form a lot of what it became in its glory days." Which it wasn't anymore.

From the time he got that scar into his fifties.

That meant that Desmond had literally watched his life for decades.

Not just years, no. Actual decades.

It meant that, at this point, Desmond knew about his life than he did.

For a long moment there's nothing but silence, golden brown eyes falling away as his brain tries desperately to process this new, strange information. And he wishes, silently, that Leonardo was here. Surely he'd be able to make sense of all this, to offer some logical explanation.

But he isn't. No, it's just the three of them, and one of them has excused herself to the kitchen, leaving only the two of them behind.

It had been centuries. He was something of a legend. His work had actually helped save and shape the future order. The future order.

It was all so much.

Slowly, he moves to sit in Lucy's now vacated seat, the blanket now long forgotten on the floor. It was all so much.

"It takes that long to end it." It was more of a statement than a question, like a relization that had never come to him before. He had thought it would be over by now, that it would be easier than this.

Desmond wishes that was the case. He considers lying, but that would require keeping up with lies and he also generally hates lying. Eventually it comes back to bite you in the ass. "I don't know if it's over, honestly. We were still at war in 2012." Desmond is not at all naive enough to think that his death and saving the world meant the fight would end. He's not sure there's anything that could stop it.

"It went through times when one faction was stronger than the other, or one almost wiped out the other, but it's like we're the ying and yang sometimes." Strangely in balance, always one required to counter the other. He has no idea what a world would look like, with only one reigning supreme. He has some suspicions about what it would look like with the Templars in charge, but maybe that's prejudice on his end. There's no way of knowing.

"I'm sorry, I really wish I had better news. And now we're stuck here, and we don't know how and why." Ezio at least is someone who is capable of dealing with bad news. "Altair is here too, from the codex pages and the Order's history."

Ezio was capable of handling bad news.

It's just that he normally handled it by stabbing someone.

And it's a stark reminder that the weight of his device upon his wrist comes nowhere near to the weight of leather and steel that normally rest there. One wrist flicks absentmindedly as if reminding himself that the blade is no longer there, now, here where he'd need it most.

"It is not your fault." It was clearly the Order as a whole who had failed, and he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he was the one who had lead it to that ruin. "Are there any other's here?"

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moderndayassassin - 2019-02-09 22:48 (UTC) - Expand

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You Should Have Known Better

https://i.imgur.com/n1LORnd.png

the O face

Giiirrrl you besta check yo'self

Maybe after I sleep 😴😴😴😴

What a disappointment

sleep is important ok

More important than me? Wow I'm hurt

Ain’t no one else important than you gosh 🤦🏼‍♀️

Yes good, I feel and accept your love

I’m glad you can feel it all the way over there

It is very warm and gooey I'm not sure I like it

But it’s like a nicely melted chocolate chip cookie fresh from the oven

i want a chocolate chip cooke :'(

Grandchildren get oatmeal raisin thems the rules

Tbh oatmeal raisin cookies are so good too ;;

I personally LOVE oatmeal cookies. I just want a cookie period at this point.

Then you get oatmeal cookies freshly baked WITH LOVE

Damn, now I’m gonna go get some tomorrow on lunch break 😭😰

guys i still have no cookies

Someone get the grandchild some cookies STAT

friends who stab friends, there are no cookies there

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