[ A. Ezio's freaking out. Dude is from fifteenth century Florence, all right, and none of this is right. He has weird buttons on his pants and this shirt is all wrong - people in his house, he's torn apart his room, there are clothes strewn all over the floor and his mattress is overturned. He was clearly looking for something, and now he's just
(
Read more... )
I believe the church services are inside.
Reply
So I figure.
[ He rubs his arm awkwardly, unfolding and letting his legs dangle over the roof edge. ] It's no matter. I doubt they have what I need in there.
Reply
Oh, levity.]
Hmm, and what is it that you need?
Reply
[ His answer is a bit pained, and terribly predictable. ]
I need to get out of here. Back home -- they need me.
Reply
Reply
[ Ezio lets out a frustrated sigh and grabs the edge of the roof, lowering himself onto the ground in a few fluid swings downward. It's rather impressive and effortless, but he doesn't seem to think much of it, just lands heavily in front of her with his hands on his hips. ]
Everyone keeps saying these THINGS like this, expecting me to just accept their reasons. Returning to where I was before, that's -- That's impossible, that's not how time works. I don't understand any of this place.
Reply
Reply
[ Space-in-the-what-now? Actually, no, he's just going to pretend like he knew what that last bit was. For his very... matured first nineteen years of his life, time, so far as he's known it, has just moved in straight lines, one big one, and that was it, that was all he needed to know. Now it's apparently in clusters and tangles and that is a source of endless frustration for him, if because of where he is and how little he understands it. ]
This was never my specialty. Perhaps you understand this better than myself, madonna.
Reply
So to speak, signor. Ah, and by the way, my name is Sasaki.
Reply
Leave a comment