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[molotov]

[Molotov had really been expecting it to happen a little earlier. But when she wakes up, she notices the distinct sound of playing. In a room that had been mostly sealed up until now. She throws her robe on, then goes to make sure that her suspicions are correct.]

Mama!

[Molotov holds her arms out for the now-three-year-old Andropov, and lifts her up.]

Let's go wake up Daddy, huh?


--

[Later on, the three are out and about, doing... family stuff. Molotov mostly wants to lord the fact that her child is perfect and wonderful and gorgeous over people. Come say hi?]

Comments

you bring the wine. it's a party!!!

[molotov]

I am going to teach her, and whether or not her life means more to her than his is a decision she can make on her own. And she will learn weapons too! But hand-to-hand comes first.

[samson]

Are you teaching her like, a style or anything?

[assassino]

Molotov, the mere desire is not enough to give her the aptitude for it, just as a lack of aptitude does not indicate a lack of desire.

[molotov]

Krav maga, maybe a little Sambo. She will fight like me, minus the gymnastic elements, because I do not have time to train that into her too.

And like I said. Once I give her my skills, how she uses them is up to her. If she can take everything I teach her and still not be confident to defend her life, that is her problem.

[samson]

[He rolls his eyes as if to say Molotov's probably really overestimating the potential of a spoiled 16-year-old girl, but whatever.]

Some people just don't have the stomach for murder, you know that.

[assassino]

She got upset when I told her about the attempted assassination on Lorenzo di Medici. I doubt she will ever be prepared to kill, no matter who her family is.

[molotov]

Oh, and I suppose if I went back in time and told sixteen-year-old versions of you two that you will spend your lives murdering people, you would have been excited and pleased?

[samson]

No, but I was trained for it. Nobody just said 'Hey Samson, go kill that guy.' [Actually, knowing Hunter, that probably did happen.] Plus I wasn't raised to be a little delicate flower.

[assassino]

I live in a place where people attend public executions for fun, and my uncle is a condottiero. Death is hardly surprising in my time. I was also an idiot when I was sixteen, I probably would have called it exciting and anticipated being some sort of hero... especially considering the alternative, which is banking.

[molotov]

She lives in the same time as you, and I am sure she has come across condottieros in her time. Oh, wait, she married one. Shut up.

[Molotov is getting testy. You assholes are pushing her.]

None of us were born knowing how to do this. We were all trained, and she has bested both of you by wanting to start her training at sixteen. I was twelve. Seems the men are the ones lacking fortitude.

And I am not training her to go kill people for money or fun. I am training her to defend her own life. Why do you have such problems with that? Clearly you think she should just pray not to die before some big strong man sweeps in to save her.

[samson]

[do you see, ezio... what he has to put up with...]

Hey, I'm just saying. Not everybody can kill someone, even if it's in self defense.

[assassino]

Yes, but her family is wealthy. She has other amusements at her disposal, and men do not discuss war with girls. I bet I know more of her husband's business than she does, and I've never even met Giovanni Sforza.

And as I said before -- ask her how she broke his leg. She knows how to exact revenge.

[molotov]

[Molotov can feel herself getting really angry. The kind of angry she doesn't want to be while Brock is holding a toddler. She's really just defending Lucrezia out of solidarity, but she's still angry.

So she does the only thing she can think to do, which is snatch Andropov from Brock (Andy is a girl too! Molotov doesn't want her to absorb and internalize sexism by osmosis or something), then glare at both men.]

I am going to teach Lucrezia to kill her filthy, repulsive husband, and then I am going to come back and kick the both of your asses straight into the Dead Zone.

[And then she marches off. Fucking asshole penis-havers...]

[samson]

[Brock casts a "wow women amirite" look at Ezio, then follows Molotov.

Because. She has his fake impossible magic baby.]

[assassino]

[Helpless shrug back, but he waves a curt goodbye and excuses himself.]

Best of luck, Molotov. I will see you two around.