paradisa | xxxv λ musing

[All things considered, Ezio has had a busy day, but now he's out and about. He's hit up a dozen or so stores in town, mostly for painting frames and books, and perhaps you've see him running errands.

Later, however, he will be sitting down at his desk to scrawl out:]

I seldom write in this journal. I think that is funny; for every boy who knows how to write, three sit without education, and here I squander my gifts and ignore books. My sister does more writing than I do, and her talent is a rarity amongst women!

It has been more than a year since I have arrived –– closer, still, to thirteen months -- and each day I learn new things about the future, history, science, and even the human body. I do not think many days have passed in the past four hundred that saw me sitting idle and failing to learn!

Yet still, when I spoke to a young woman the other week, she was hard-pressed to believe that I would return to my time, forsaking the knowledge and science and hygiene of the future. I prefer the conventions of my time, and my culture, and I have work to do. So, I wonder, then...

How many of you would go home with another, to their time instead of yours?

I'm going to miss plumbing. I think that is what you call it –– "plumbing." Even after all this time, sometimes it is fun to turn on the "tap" simply to marvel at its convenience. It is a wonder there is so much water about without the streets being flooded like the canals of Venezia.

And I have such good memories of the miracles of showers, with thanks to some of the beautiful women in this castle.

E. Auditore.

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[He kind of laughs and pulls his face away.]

When I turn 30, I expect the kind of respect an old man receives!

And what does that consist of, exactly?

Whatever I ask for!

Like you don't usually get whatever you ask for anyway.

I know. I am very fortunate.

[Hug :')]

[Hug :') ]

So spoiled.

Very spoiled.

As you should be. [Nothing but the best for her friends :') ]

Of course.

[He nuzzles his chin against her hair for a moment and then lets her go.]

[She smiles.]

I'll let you get to your... [she glances over her shoulder, to the wall. The smile's just a little strained around the edges when she looks back] decorating. Maybe I'll go shop for a plant.

[He notes that strain, but does not comment.]

Hmm? But it is winter.

A fake plant. Or maybe just a nice picture or painting. [One that's not part of a hit list.] Or a beanbag chair. You don't know what that is, but it's awesome. I think I just made up my mind.

[Confused.]

What is the purpose of a fake plant?

[Yes, interrupt her sudden thoughts about a beanbag chair and what other activities it may be used for. She's corrupted.]

Huh? It's... like a normal plant. Decoration. Looks nice. Reminds you that there's nature and sunshine and pretty things outside of this place. The best part is you don't even have to water it.

But I see the outdoors all the time.

Fine. When you're down here brooding or thinking unhappy thoughts, you can look at your fake plant and think, "Oh, there is that stupid and unnecessary fake plant that Stephanie insisted I have. I should go see what she's up to."

[Confused.]

Do you really think me so obsessed that I sit in here and forget the rest of the world?

[A little bit.]

No. I'm kidding. [For the most part.]

[He shrugs.]

Alright, then. You may buy me a plant.

It'll make your war room more... comfortable? [Shrug.]

I suppose. It is a war room, it has no need for comfort.

It'll go nice with the deadly-looking hammers over there.

A woman's touch, I suppose.

I'm not too good with the decorating. You've seen my room. But random, pointless objects? That I can do. The Steph touch.

I will take it regardless.

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