first // OPEN

[seventeenth]

[Desmond thinks he's getting the hang of the castle. On and off, all day, he's been alternating between lounging around the living area and badgering people to come explore the castle with him -- not very far, of course, but just enough to get a proper feel for the place. He wants to go back to the tower. He wants to check the sarcophagus room to see if anyone else showed up. He wants to see what's waiting on the other side of the dorms. He wants to climb all over ancient, crumbling architecture for the hell of it.]

[It'll probably get annoying for everyone else, after a while, but for now Desmond is enjoying himself.]

(ooc: An open 'get bugged by Desmond' post. I can come up with a reason for hm to approach and chatter at literally anyone! If there's a specific area you want your character to go to just say so in the subject line/an ooc note, or write the tag with them already in that part of the castle.)

Comments

[seventeenth]

[Yeah, that doesn't surprise him.] Right, well, in the 1800's someone invented something called a camera, which worked the same way for pictures and paintings. You could use a camera to take a picture of something, then use that to print new copies of the image. Like a printing press for paintings, right?

[enthusiast]

[Eyebrows up.]

And people "take pictures" of plays to publish?

[seventeenth]

Sort of like that. [He runs a hand over the back of his head, thinking of how to explain it.] That's the easiest way to put it, at least.

[enthusiast]

That's incredible. I did not think such a thing possible! The painters must all be out of work.

[She shifts in her seat to better face him, tilting her head slightly.]

You know, your face has been stuck in my mind since we met. There is just something familiar about it, and I cannot place it... but I could not possibly know you, with so many years dividing us. Isn't that strange?

[seventeenth]

Well, it depends on what they're painting. All the old paintings like Leonardo's stuff are still really valuable.

[Ahh, but his face again. It makes him a little uncertain every time she mentions it.]

Well, there's another guy that doesn't look too different from me running around this place, too.

[enthusiast]

I suspect he would be pleased to hear that. I'm told he's in Rome right now... I haven't met him, but perhaps I will have that opportunity sometime in the new year... [pause] If we can escape from here, of course.

[That tidbit is endlessly intriguing to her, but his uncertainty worries her.]

I'm sorry, Desmond, am I making you uncomfortable? I shouldn't have brought it up again, nor should I pry.

[seventeenth]

He's a pretty interesting guy. [Beat.] From what I've heard. He's the best-known painter in the entire world by the 20th century. [Wow this is hard.]

You don't need to apologize. [Desmond flips a hand dismissively.] It's just... [How to put it.] Well, last time someone told me I was familiar looking my life got kinda interesting, and not in the best sort of way. [Which isn't near the truth, but isn't really a lie, either.]

[enthusiast]

Well, I've said it, and now you're here with us in an interesting world. [She touches his arm, comfortingly.] I owe you an apology regardless, even if I couldn't have known. Tell me the name of this other man, and I will barrage him with all my questions about faces and leave you in peace.

[seventeenth]

[Desmond smiles again. It's just getting easier and easier to like Sofia, and it's also easy to forget to keep his guard up around her -- more than he does anyway, at least.]

It's a good thing he won't mind being bothered [by a pretty lady, that is], or else I'd feel bad about this; his name is Ezio Auditore.

[enthusiast]

Ezio?

[She looks confused for a moment, and then she reaches over to gently tip his face more in her direction. Now that he mentions it, she can see it -- there's a good twenty to thirty years' difference, and she's never seen her man with a clean-shaven face, or without years of the sun and wind on his skin. A big smile blossoms on her face. She has no idea what it means, but surely this is a good thing.]

Come to think of it, you do... though so much younger. I can't imagine him any different than I have known him... but no wonder I took such a liking to you! What an incredible coincidence.

[seventeenth]

[.... Desmond wasn't expecting that reaction. Rather dumbly, he lets himself be manhandled. He blinks slowly when he's released, and still all he can do is stare at her for a moment.]

You know Ezio? [And if he looks 'so much younger'...]

[enthusiast]

He's my husband. [A pause, to correct herself.] Or... will be, I suppose. The Ezio I have met here does not know my face. That was a surprise, as well.

[seventeenth]

[There are lots of ways to react to that news. Confusion. Delight. Politely expressed surprise.]

[Instead Desmond just stares before blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.] Ezio got married?

[enthusiast]

[Laugh, and she holds up her hand to show off that ring.]

Four months, now.

[seventeenth]

[Desmond blinks and stares. Then he laughs a little -- it's hard to not be happy for his long-dead ancestor. And yes, he's aware of how strange that is, just as it's weird to acknowledge that Sofia might be his other long-dead ancestor.]

[It's pretty strange, all things considered.]

That-- wow, I didn't expect that to happen.

[enthusiast]

[She folds her arms, appraising, though still clearly amused at his surprise..]

Oh? And why is it so unexpected that Ezio should marry?

[seventeenth]

[Shit. Desmond blinks in surprise, but he quickly recovers, grinning easily.]

Oh-- that. I'm a historian. Kind of. We've been researching Ezio and but we've only gotten as far as his... um, younger years. [Sure, he still sounds nervous, but that's probably only because it's awkward to tell a woman how much of a flirt her husband used to be, right?]

[enthusiast]

Don't worry –– I've heard stories about his youth. Just rest assured he has eyes only for one woman, now.

[She smiles. The historian bit catches her attention, though.]

So what puts my husband into the history books?

[seventeenth]

You must lead a pretty interesting life, huh? [That or she's really calm and boring, but he doubts that a lot.]

Well-- he's not, not really. [Desmond's not the greatest liar, and he's honestly not sure why he's fumbling to cover his tracks -- aside from it being awkward to admit that hey, we might be related -- but it's getting a little easier.] That's the point. His mother kept a lot of journals, though, so she's famous for that.

[enthusiast]

Very interesting, yes.

[That's mildly suspicious, though, and she sees him stumbling over his own story.]

He spent little time with his mother for most of his life, and he never mentioned that she was a writer.

[seventeenth]

She suddenly stopped, right around 1477. Ezio wouldn't have even been 20 when that happened. [He frowns, a little, as he remembers why she stopped. Not that he can say that.] Though-- well, no one's sure why.

[enthusiast]

He would have been eighteen, no.

[She frowns, though she's glad that Desmond knows him from happier times, and doesn't need to know about those long decades between the tragedy and his retirement.]

I will leave it to him to tell you what happens next, but rest assured, all is well in his life. He has decided to retire, and we will be leaving Venezia for Roma soon, to make proper arrangements. Then... who knows? But I intend to keep him happy.

[seventeenth]

[Desmond nods, smiling again.]

That's good to hear. I'll make sure to remember it I ever get out of there.

[enthusiast]

You'd better. [amused.] I wonder how much of my time was lost to history... both the good and the bad. We know so little about those that came before us.

[seventeenth]

There's a lot we still know, but there's a lot we don't. [Desmond considers for a long moment. He can't really start rambling about Templars -- he's not even sure if Ezio would have told her about them.] People have always been pretty good about making inconvenient information disappear. A lot of the gaps in our history books were put there intentionally.