sixthiterationlogs | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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?"

It wasn't his fault, no, but Desmond still wished he had better news. He knew how much the Order mattered to his ancestors, some of them more than others, and he honestly always wished he cared about anything that much. He did, at the very end, care enough to die, but their devotion was unique. And powerful.

"In your time, the Brotherhood was at one of its strongest positions, no small thanks to you." Unfortunately that didn't last forever. This was a younger Ezio though, he had to remind himself of that, so he didn't overwhelm him with facts from the future. But the Brotherhood did thrive under Ezio's command, just as it had with Altair. It was the future that let everyone down.

"There's three I know about. Altair, his friend Malik, and I believe Jacob Frye, although he's not one of my ancestors." As far as Desmond was aware of. "Another was here before, but he ... well, we don't actually know what happens to them. People speculate when people disappear here, they're simply sent back to their world." That was if you didn't think they were all clones, which some people did, which would mean there was no where to go at all. Desmond wasn't sold on it, but he also wasn't exactly a genius enough to argue on the matter. "For now, we're stuck here."

You Should Have Known Better

Someone get the grandchild some cookies STAT

friends who stab friends, there are no cookies there

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