[ ACTION/ACCIDENTAL VIDEO ] fun fact: italics = italian.

[punchesbards]

[ Ezio had woken up in some strange places in his lifetime, especially once he became an assassin. But this, this was way different than waking up in, say, a random woman's bed or a bale of hay. The smell was awful, the sheer white of the room blinding as he sat up. He was greeted by a woman, welcoming him to some unfamiliar city -- ]

Aliunde? [

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[givemenames]

action;

[Being out on the rooftops at all times of the day is what he does, especially right now when he's trying to figure out what to do with the Order because he can't do that in the den, it's too foreign and too loud, full of modern things and so he prefers to be in the city (not really that he prefers the city but outdoors is better than being cooped up inside) as he makes sure all is in order.

With his Eagle Vision returned, it makes life easier, more familiar. That's when the flash of blue catches him and he stops. In Aliunde, so few flash that colour that it warrants investigation which is when all his eavesdropping pays off - the voice is younger but he knows it and so he drops down and approaches, ready to be calm because he knows how angry he was in himself when he arrived in Aliunde.]

Ezio? You may wish to turn off the communication thing, I have been told it has a mind of its own and there are those who are no doubt watching.

[punchesbards]

[ Instinctively, upon hearing his name, does the assassin spin around; the crowd he had been blending with dispersing. It's rather odd that the locals here don't seem to notice when things like this happen; the meeting between two hooded strangers in the middle of the street. That is not his concern, though, not yet. ]

How do you know my name? [ he steps back once, eyes narrowing under his hood. He has no weapons, no colour coded sense to tell whether or not this man is an ally, but there are plenty of other things to go by, he just has to know what to look for.

His eyes sweep over the other man, looking for something familiar, and he finds it; a scar upon his lip so like his own he may as well be looking in a mirror. It's just barely visible, but it's there, ] Who are you?

[givemenames]

[At least there are no weapons, Altaïr gained his sight but not a blade although surely that must be soon - it's been an incentive to simply observe for now but there is little chance for any action that is not suicidal or dangerously reckless.]

We share a calling, a life. [Obvious enough given the hoods but by god, the resemblance is more striking without the beard and the greater span of years between them - they must be close to age with one another now, that same scar cutting through their lips.] Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, I do not think you would know much of me yet but I had the chance to meet you in Aliunde not so long ago. You were older, you had left Italy to travel further and had gone to Masyaf, my home. I believe you had read the words I had written.

[punchesbards]

[ At least. Though it wouldn't be wise to pull a weapon on someone in the middle of the street. That, and this man sure dressed and acted like an assassin. His first words were enough to convince him of that, though he would have liked to at least have the confirmation with his Eagle Sense. Alas. ]

Altaïr? Impossible. Altaïr has been dead for hundreds of years. There's no way-- [ Ezio squints, peeking under the beak of his hood. ] The codex...? [ he mutters that, barely audible. ] How do I know you are telling the truth? I have never travelled to Masyaf in my life, nor have I even thought of it.

[givemenames]

[With the phones switching on by themselves at inopportune moments, a spate of mass disappearances from what he has learned and with the Head Doctor always watching? It's best to keep all possible attention they might draw to the absolute minimum, especially now with the idea that he has been in some other world wher others learned of him.]

I have been told - the year is 2012 or thereabouts for many in Aliunde, eight hundred years further than my time or close enough. [That never stops feeling odd though, to know just how much the world changes and not necessarily for the better with the amount of Templar control in the future.] I have not yet written a single page of it. No, you will not do such a thing until much later in your life when you are older, perhaps twice as old as I am now. [You know when you get slow and beardy but still want to shove your face in a lady's cleavage.] You may ask something if you need me to prove who I am but I am Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, I am from Masyaf, I regained my rank hunting down nine Templars