xxix λ retirement

[assemblatore]

[Needless to say, Ezio Auditore did not expect to be in this place. No one ever does; if you could, it wouldn't be Paradisa, would it?

And Ezio does not go quietly. Instead, he's the one with an iron fire poker, stalking through the halls with as much haste as he can. His old body make it difficult, but adrenaline has a way of providing one with the strength.

He's on edge. He doesn't know what to make of this strange new place, or how he got here. Is he dead? Did Shao Jun's pursuers get the best of him? And –– most important of all –– is his family alright?

And there's his voice, still heavily accented but much older, much more gravelly:]


Come out, you dogs, and greet me! Or are you too cowardly to face an old man?

Comments

[molotov]

[There's yelling in the hall.

Molotov is still trying to recover and get her shit together from her infected freak-out, so she doesn't appreciate this. It's obviously Ezio yelling, and she figures he's drunk, so she opens her door and frowns, rubbing at the side of her face.]

Ezio, for god's sake, shut up.

[assemblatore]

[Ezio turns fast in the direction of the opening door and the voice, not only because of decades of being on edge, but also the fact that this woman knows his name.

He doesn't recognize her. Not yet, anyway. He doesn't move in her direction, but he does lift the iron poker higher.]


No! Who are you?

[molotov]

[That... is not Ezio.

Or maybe it is. She can see a resemblance. The voice is right. But it's jarring, for him to be so old, so suddenly.

Molotov had wanted him to grow up, but come on, castle, this is an extreme.

She holds her hands out in a motion for him to calm down, her voice losing all irritation and taking on a soothing quality, the way one might speak to a scared dog.]

Ezio, it is me, Molotov. Remember? We are in Paradisa, in the castle.

[secondchances]

[Someone's not happy.

Stephanie senses the anger before her mind processes the words and the voice, but by the time she turns, her eyes are wide. She had never met the old Ezio that had been here for a time and piqued Damian's curiosity, but she had spoken to him. Even though it was brief, she remembered that voice--it was still similar enough to be familiar. She kinda knew what was coming before she fully turned. Or that's what she'll tell herself later.

Still, when she finds herself staring (very much staring) at someone who definitely isn't the Ezio she knows, but sounds and looks just enough like him...]

Holy shit.

[That's about all she can manage right now.]

[assemblatore]

[He feels like he needs to be suspicious, but there is something familiar about her when he draws a step or two closer, squinting to scrutinize her face. To scrutinize her name, the name of this place. It's all oddly familiar, like an old dream, and with great hesitation he lowers the fire poker.]

Molotov? [He knows her name, doesn't he?] In Paradisa... how did I get here?

[He can't lower his guard yet.]

[assemblatore]

[Ezio turns to look at her, too, and as worked up as he is, she seems just as startled as he is. He lowers the fire poker, even obscuring it behind himself a bit, but he keep some distance between them.]

You, girl. What is the meaning of this? What is this place?

[molotov]

You were here already. The castle did this to you, made you old overnight. The first time we met, I was a child, remember? It is all just the castle's magic.

[secondchances]

[Girl? Steph's heart plummets. Is this like Lucrezia? Is this temporary? She can't tell. But this is Ezio, so she has to focus on him in this moment right here, and calm him down and... and... something.]

Ezio? You don't know who I am?

[It's hesitantly hopeful, which just sounds a little pathetic. Stephanie slowly takes a few steps forward, hands up. Let's not get beat by an old man.]

We're in Paradisa.

[Please say that's familiar.]

[assemblatore]

[His first instinct is to call this woman crazy. The most plausible thing there is that he met this woman when he was younger, when she was just a girl, but magic? He'd stopped believing in such things so long ago.]

That sounds like madness, madonna. Surely you cannot expect me to believe such things?

[molotov]

Wish for something. An object. Anything.

[assemblatore]

[She looks too young for him to have known her recently, and his life is a blur of names and faces –– something about her face is familiar, but he cannot place her at all. She's dressed like a strange foreigner, and who knows where she could be from?

Still, she does not seem to be a threat.]

I have never heard of such a place.

[assemblatore]

Why?

[molotov]

What do you have to lose? Just a wish.

[assemblatore]

[He gives her a long, calculating stare, trying to figure out a motive. He can't find one, because wishing for objects out of thin air is absurd no matter how you spin it.

Fine.]

I wish for a blade, then.

[Might as well be practical, then. Fuck fire pokers.]

[secondchances]

[That stings. Or at least makes Steph's eyes sting, but with a few rapid blinks, she's offering him a friendly smile. Keep it together, Brown, you can freak out later. Maybe there's nothing to freak out about, even. Yeah, let's wait a week or two...

Easier said than done.]

I can explain it. We all found ourselves here like you did, but not everyone's first instinct is to run around swinging... [she tries to peer at his weapon of choice] a fire poker?

[She stops in front of him, but far enough away so that she'd have time to react if he was quick at swinging that thing. She tries to not stare at the wrinkles and gray hair. Ohgodhe'ssoold.]

I'm Stephanie.

[molotov]

[And, being Paradisa, a blade simply appears at his feet.

Molotov leans in the doorway and crosses her arms over her chest.]

I never imagined you this much older, you know. Maybe ten or fifteen years, but not like this.

[assemblatore]

[Ezio notes the distance she keeps, and he tries to relax, just to make her feel more at ease. That, at least, has remained unchanged over the decades; he might be grey and wrinkled, but will always take care to not frighten women and children when he can avoid it.

After a moment he replies, momentarily distracted by her first comment. Are they prisoners of something?]

Ezio.

[assemblatore]

[He looks down at it, surprised but not startled. Stranger things have happened in his life, he supposes, even if materialization is a new one. It takes him a moment to bend down to pick it up, though, and when he straightens up again, it's with a grimace and his free hand to his back. Give an old man a break, Paradisa.

Being young feels like a lifetime ago.]

No? We must have met when I was young, then, if you were only a bambina and I still had that much time left to me.

[secondchances]

[She smiles sadly at that. She knows. At first, she's not sure if she should play this off as their first encounter or try telling him the truth, but if he's anything like his younger self, he'd want honesty. Even if it could be pretty freakin' hard to explain.]

We have lots to talk about, and a lot of it is gonna sound crazy... but first thing's first. You have a room here. I can show you where it is.

[He should probably sit for a possibly lengthy conversation, anyway.]

[molotov]

[She smiles and nods.]

You were young, da, but we met less than a year ago. I was six, and you were twenty-eight. You are twenty-nine, or will be again. Just as I turned thirty-nine again shortly after we met. I taught you to brush your teeth, and I said you looked like a prince.

[assemblatore]

I have a room?

[He sounds skeptical, but he'll see where she's going with this.]

Show me.

[assemblatore]

[Ezio tries to sort that out in his mind, how it might be chronologically, on a timeline, but it just doesn't make sense. Not yet, anyhow.

He scoffs, half-amused, half-irritated.]

Some prince, hmm? But thank you, I suppose... I still have all of my teeth, and not many can claim that.

[secondchances]

Everyone does. Yours is especially nice. [Such cool decor... it makes her feel like she's in the Renaissance, just a bit. She sighs, and makes sure she's not looking as worried as she feels.]

This way. You can leave or bring the fire poker, but I swear I don't bite. You're safe.

[molotov]

I cannot lie, you are far from Prince Charming, at least young. Would you like a glass of wine, Ezio?

[assemblatore]

I will keep it with me, just in case.

[He moves to follow her, though.]

But first... have you seen a Chinese woman show up here? She would be around your age, and dressed strangely. I was with her before –– [a vague gesture]–– this.