asgardmeridiem | [closed]

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Who: Connor and Ezio
What: Well, it was just going to be a conversation.
When: Day 383
Where: Needle in a Haystack back rooms and such.
Rating: PG-13ish? Mostly for inevitable discussions of death.

[He didn't call for anyone. On the contrary, Connor found his way into the shop has just been perched to watch the goings on for some time. The atmosphere has shifted over the last few days, something to do with one of the Assassins, but he's been away enough of the time that he isn't entirely clear on what's going on. People try to talk to him sometimes, but he fends them off with an air of unsociability first and a retreat to the back rooms later, where he's left more in peace. It's good. Gives him time to think.

Eventually he catches one of the novices as the shop is winding down for the evening with a quick "Is Ezio here at the moment?" She shakes her head in the negative and leaves--and that's enough. The message will get to Ezio one way or another that Connor is looking for him, he's sure of that.]

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[Vivianna brings word of Connor requesting him after Ezio has spent some time out on his own. The talk with Desmond had backfired in the worst way possible, and his own questioning with Shaun only brought more bad news. Getting out and about with fresh air in his lungs was about the best he could do in clearing his mind at this point. The request is a bit surprising, but not unwelcome, and he makes his way towards the back rooms, looking for a familiar face.]

Connor? What can I do for you, fratello?

Desmond is back.

[What an awful lead-in to the conversation, but hey, with that out of the way, just in case Ezio had somehow missed the news (which Connor knows he hadn't), he can move on.]

Is it wise to keep things so centrally located?

[No more small talk, straight to the point. A bureau is great in theory, and Connor can see from his reading how they served to make operations effective in the Holy Lands, but he also sees in them a significant weakness. With so many Assassins so closely grouped together, it is far too easy for an enemy to wipe them out--as had happened even before Connor's time, with the Colonials. As he knows happened with Ezio, too, during the siege of Monteriggioni.]

[Ezio's mouth thins slightly at the mentioning of Desmond, but he nods to acknowledge that he knows.]

Sì, I met with him the other day.

[And is still aching inwardly from the guilt he has.

Then, Connor immediately begins to question the security of the Bureau. Ezio gives him a bit of a brow raise, but figures this is normal to question. It's a good one, since he does not come from Ezio's time, and so he answers in kind.]

If we wish to remain together as a Brotherhood, yes. There is more that we could branch out to, perhaps, but a central location is necessary for the Order.

[To pull them apart, scatter them into the winds of Asgard would be one of the gravest mistakes they could do. They need to be singular, together, and breaking them apart would only serve to separate and make their work more difficult.]

[Connor obviously disagrees with Ezio on this level. He would prefer if they were more spread out. The harder it is to find all of them, the harder it is to eliminate all of them.]

Necessary to what end? It puts us at risk. One hard blow and the order would be scattered, if not gone entirely.

And if we are to be scattered, Connor, it would undo what the Bureau stands for.

[It is a location where plans are made, a central area where all brothers meet, gather, and work together. Ezio has seen what it is like, without a Bureau, without some place as a head, and the Assassins struggled. It was easier for the Templars to pick them off one by one, to wring their necks and destroy them piece by piece, so no questions were raised.

And it is not something Ezio is about to allow happen, not when he's worked over the past three years back home and almost a year here to ensure the Bureau stays together as one, as a whole, as family.]

It will take more than one hard blow to destroy us, I know this as a fact. If we separate, we dwindle our forces and make the entirety of the Brotherhood weaker and easy to destroy.

What the Bureau stands for? What does it matter what it stands for if the building burns and all inside are dead? Ideals mean nothing. If you separate, at least there is a chance of someone surviving, to keep things alive.

[He's bristling, if barely. A central Bureau worked for Ezio, yes, and Altair, yes, but things are different in Connor's time. Achilles had a Bureau at the Homestead and all that accomplished was making it easier for the Templars to Purge them all.

Dangerous enough to keep a Bureau on familiar ground. Downright stupid to maintain one on unfamiliar ground.]

If we separate, they will pick us off like flies just as easily. One by one, through silent methods or through not so silent methods. We are simple targets if there is only one of us versus many.

[He does not want to argue, and the small stab of a headache that begins in the back of his head furthers this point. He openly gestures, keeping an eye on Connor's movement and his reactions, and planning his words carefully.]

We are brothers here, but more than that, we are family. Family does not break apart, nor does it strive to simply survive in its time.

[Connor opens his mouth to respond to Ezio's comment about them being targets if they separate, to tell him that is not how it worked, that his recruits were fine on their own, in their respective cities, but he snaps it shut again on a second later. When he does speak, it's utterly cold.]

You are not my family and you have no right to pretend that you are.

[Poor Ezio had no way of knowing he said exactly the wrong thing.]

[Ezio blinks, caught by surprise by Connor's sudden tone change, and for a split second he wonders if this will end the same way it did the previous day, with Desmond leaving. He measures himself, breathes out through his nose, and speaks again.]

I did not mean it like that, Connor. I would never claim that I was. I simply meant the Brotherhood is a different kind of family.

[...there's no way this can end well. He can see it already.]

There is no family, there is only a group of people committed to the same murderous cause.

[Normally, he'd take a measure of pride in being an assassin, but normally he hasn't just been yanked out of the reality he knew, only minutes after stabbing his own father in the throat. Brotherhood and family are the last things on his mind--or rather, they're not, and that's the problem. There's nothing for him to do here so all he has to focus on is loss and potential loss.

Not really a good place to be.]

You speak of Brotherhood. What Brotherhood.

[From cold to venomous, no. ...This will not end well.]

[What Brotherhood.

The words are cold, calculated, and Ezio bites back the first retort he has- "You are wrong."

Because Connor is wrong, but Ezio knows that telling him this will only aggravate him further. The Brotherhood is more, so much more, and while he may not have had a Brotherhood back home, there is one here. He bristles a little, narrows his eyes, but does not speak in anger, but in a firm tone. The tone of a Mentor.]

The Brotherhood you are standing in right now. The one Altaïr and I sought to build upon, the one we strengthened, taught the ways of the Creed, gave our lives for. [A beat, and he breathes.] It may not feel like one to you, but this is the way we have come to run things in our time. So I ask that you trust in us as you trusted those back home, even if you do not consider us to be the same as them.

[He will not yell at Connor, nor will he snap back. But the younger Assassin's viewpoint burns in him slowly, like the coals of a dead fire placed on skin. This is not meant to be a war, and it will not end as such, but Ezio has noticed that Connor has been on the verge of letting something out. It seems now is going to be the time where it happens.]

There is no one there that I trust. None.

[It isn't true, there are plenty of people there that he trusts: Achilles, Dobby, Clipper, the rest of the recruits, even Lafayette. But after Washington's betrayal (second betrayal), and Haytham's? Even his oldest and dearest friend turned against him, and now Connor finds himself questioning the motives of those around him, even if he still has faith in their actions.

It isn't anger that twists inside him, not exactly, but it isn't quite grief, either. He can barely make sense of the thoughts caught inside his head, the hate for Lee, the crushed desire for reconciliation with Haytham, the sheer disorientation of being "here" instead of "there." Lashing out at Ezio isn't fair, and he's fully aware of it, but he's been itching for a target almost since the moment he arrived and the pot is finally boiling over.]

You called me "brother" when I came here and treated me kindly. Had I worn a cross, you would not have done the same, no matter that I were no different.

No. That is where you are wrong, Connor.

[And here is where he chooses to stand firm in what he says, voice staying neutral but letting the other know he is not going to simply let the other judge him so quickly. That his thoughts may be all over the place and his anger but Ezio knows Connor is still there. He is an emotional wreck, and it vaguely brings to mind the years where he struggled to keep himself straight with his goals and his ideals all in one place.]

Back home, had I seen you with a cross, I would have. But being here and around brothers from different times I have come to accept that it is not all black and white, and broadened my horizons. You are still a person, Connor, and that is something I cannot deny. I would have assisted regardless of where you stood.

[He knows that nothing he says will change the other's state, but even clarification in a haze of anger is better than not being told anything at all.]

Would you accept a Templar? Would you fold him into the Brotherhood? Would you fight alongside him and trust him at your back?

[Somehow, he doesn't think so, and Ezio would be right not to. Connor never should have, but he did, and it turned out so badly.

Truthfully, the bulk of his anger is at himself, but he doesn't know which way to go with it. Should he be angry that he didn't try harder for reconciliation, or should he be angry that he tried at all? How much blame does he place at Haytham's feet? At Washington's? At his own?]

[For the first time, he stops himself before words are said, and while the tension is clearly enough to suffocate the room, he studies Connor and what his words mean.

And when he thinks about it, the statements and the anger and what all the other has faced- it comes back to him of one man who he may be speaking of. A certain Templar who spoke with wit and ire, and one Ezio did not take to kindly once he discovered who he was.

But he does not speak of him here. Knows it is better not to. There is too much damage already, to pry open the barrel when it is already set to explode will only damage more people in the end, compared to the one.

And Ezio is the one. He will be the only one. For it is better for Connor to get his anger out here, in a place where there are no outsiders to know of what happens, then to have him break out of nowhere and in front of people he does not know.

His answer is not as strong as before, not as resolute. Not out of hesitance, but because he knows this is a subject Connor is bringing up because he has no answers, and cannot seem to find them any other way.]

No.

[Simple, but effective. Now he waits for the tempest to come crashing in, either slowly, or all at once.]

[And so the tempest crashes, though it's unclear where the bulk of its fury is aimed.]

No, you would not. You would not because you are not the good person you claim to be. We are not the good people we claim to be. We will save the people from--what? Order? Order is not evil and maybe we are wrong to fight it as long and as hard as we have. Maybe we are wrong, and they are right. After all, their legacy has brought us new medicines to heal people, maps for navigation, new machines that ease the burden of labor, and all we have is blood! All our improvements are for the sake of killing faster and more efficiently.

What advancements? What Brotherhood? All we know how to do is destroy each other!

[His voice raises with every word until by the end, he's shouting. Everything hurts.]

[A silence fills the air as Connor finishes shouting, both the Bureau above and the shop itself going quiet, very little heard from the voices outside. The novices shoved out customers as soon as the argument got heated, saying something's come up and the shop is now closed, bracing for the worst. By the time the shouting started, the entire front was empty.

And Ezio? Ezio stands there, as Connor yells, the other Assassin shouting in his face, a mixture of hurt and pain all coming out at once. The Italian does not move, does not speak, only listens, keeps himself from doing anything rash or split decision that will make this storm worse. And it is a storm, a whirlwind in which he has found himself standing at the edges of, threatened to be torn apart should he step forward or make the wrong move towards it at all. That he cannot. That he should not.

But he does all the same.

His eyes close for a moment, and he breathes out slowly, exhaling as if the entire room has gone cold. In that same breath he lets go of his frustration and irate anger, the emotions disappearing out of him like a huff of steam, escaping outwards and into the air to dissipate. Scattering like the stars in the sky. It's a technique he uses when necessary, when he has been pushed to the limits of his patience and does not want his anger to get the best of him, and more often than not it is done away from others. Connor hasn't given him that luxury.

Then, his eyes snap open again, and they are hardened, lit with a fire that speaks volumes before he even opens his mouth to speak. His tone is lower, sharp, biting, and demanding attention.]

Connor. Sit. Down.

[The legends of Connor's time tell that Ezio was a man who spent his life for the people, a legendary mentor who spoke and taught Assassins both in Rome, and in Constantinople. And while legends tell of the good and the bad, they do not always capture everything, as stories are meant to fade and change over time. This man, here and now, has always been the legendary mentor that Connor's time has told, but now he has stepped into the role completely, and he is a force to be reckoned with.]

You are hurting, fratello, and you may question where you stand. That is fine. You may wonder if our ways will help us stay alive or kill us all. That is also fine.

[A breath, and the glare that comes from his eyes is as terrifying as he himself is, on the edge of ire and fury all swept into one.]

But do not tell me that what we do is to only shed blood, and only bring tears. We have sacrificed far more than that, to bring good to others, to ensure that they live their lives how they want to. Not according to us. Not according to whoever chooses to rule. That choice is theirs, and while you may not see it in those around you, or back home, I do.

[There is a saying that to induce Ezio Auditore da Firenze's ire was like throwing oneself onto the top of kindling, waiting to be burned, and praying you would come out with only singed hairs for your mistakes. The same can be said here. Connor is taller and more menacing, more broad-shouldered and quicker to anger, but Ezio carries a presence behind him. One that does not sleep, does not rest, does not stop, but rises like a fucking hurricane, threatening to destroy everything he comes across in a single touch.

Here, he simply keeps it behind him, not as a warning but as something that just is. He does not want Connor to feel threatened, that is the opposite of what he wants, but he needs to show him that while he may be hurting and letting out his emotions, Ezio will not let him walk all over him and the Brotherhood so carelessly or so insultingly. Not when he has given his life for this cause. Not when so much, here in Asgard, and at home, is at stake.

Congratulations, Connor. You have officially pissed off a legendary mentor. This is probably the last thing you wanted to have happen.]

Edited 2014-01-18 08:45 (UTC)

[He needs to back down. He needs to and he knows it because he can see the warning in the straight line of Ezio's back, the weight of experience he carries behind him. But he can't.

There is too much hurt in him to sit, so he stands. Too much anger for him to rein in, so he takes a step forward. (The best way to scare off a predator, after all, is to show it you are just as much a threat as it could be.)]

Sacrifice more if you like, I have given enough.

[He's already run out of family. How many more friends must he lose, too? How much more of himself? Asgard even took his language, and the knowledge that this language sits more easily in his mouth than his mother tongue is one more barb among the rest.]

I killed a man before I came here, a man an Assassin, one of my Brothers said needed to die. An act he said was right and necessary, and it was neither of those things. The Assassins were wrong and if wrong about that, then what else?

Enough.

[The voice that comes back is louder, forceful, and finally hitting the end of his patience. Encroaching on Ezio's space does little to help the situation, and he curls his lip upwards, a warning that screams danger if Connor pushes even an inch closer towards him.]

This is not the Frontier. This is Asgard. Do not place the blame on us, when we have done nothing to bring your wrath upon the Order. We are not the targets of your anger, Connor, all we have done is welcome you as a brother. Treat us with respect.

[The last part is spoken with authority, Ezio pulling his rank as Mentor to enforce his position, and what is done in the Brotherhood.]

The ways of the Assassins are not wrong. I did not spend thirty years of my life to consider it as a waste. Not after giving everything of myself for this cause. To protect the people, and their free will. All of us have lost something great, otherwise we would not find ourselves with such a united idea or morals. You have come from a difficult time, but that does not give you any right to speak as you have to anyone. Especially to me.

[There is no hesitancy, no pause as he speaks, eyes aflame with anger and tone on a dangerous hinge. Connor has overstepped the line and insulted far more than he knows, or perhaps he does know, and feels that it was necessary to cause as much damage as possible. Either way, Ezio is furious, and it shows in every fiber of his being, in his words and how he restrains himself from striking out against him.

Whatever idea he had previously of keeping the peace is now out the window, and his ire has been pushed far beyond where his patience lies. Any hope of this turning out well is forgotten, and will not be thought of again. The tension itself is enough to choke the entire room, and that won't change until one of them leaves. Or one of them throws the first punch.]

[He's overstepped his bounds and he knows it, but he cannot, cannot back down now, not when he feels backed into a corner (not by Ezio, but Ezio has been the unfortunate recipient of his misplaced wrath). He defends himself from the growing pain hovering just behind his sternum in the only way he knows how: by disengaging, physically and emotionally.

It's always worked before, right?

...Right?

He holds up a hand, "leave me alone" written all over that simple movement, and steps around Ezio with an arms-length of room between them, one of the few gestures of respect he can muster up at the moment.]

We are finished.

[It's not clear if he means his argument with Ezio is finished, or if his connection to the Assassins is finished...or if the Assassins as a whole are finished, in his opinion, but Connor neglects to elaborate further, a small, somewhat desperate attempt to regain what little dignity he has left.]

[The words come to him loud and clear, as does the gesture, and Ezio stills, anger surging still through his veins, presence behind him threatening to consume everything that dares to pass. Connor gives him space as he moves, and Ezio's furious glare follows him every step of the way, a reminder of what the other has done in such a short amount of time.

A large part of him wants to make Connor stop, wants to pull him back and put him in his place, throw him to the floor and make him understand that any kind of insubordination such as this is not tolerated, no matter who you are. That to belittle a mentor and his work was more than crossing the line, it was grounds for demoting and taking blades.

But no, he knows, fights against that urge, against the pure and unhindered rage at being told his work means nothing. That the entirety of the Assassins are a lie, and he has been doing nothing but wrong for his entire life. That there is no good to come of what they do.

He knows that none of that is true, because he's seen it for himself. Seen the happiness of a young boy, sitting on a dock and crying because his mother was taken away, to be in her arms again after Ezio rescued her from the Borgia guards. Seen the laughter from his novices both here and at home, in allowing them to discover themselves for the first time. Seen it in the freeing of Bartolomeo, of his rescuing of Pantesilea, of the friendship and hilarity that his friend can cause in the most tense of times.

He has seen the good his acts do, and what it leads to, beyond that. And that, to him, is everything.

A breath, and he waits for the other to move through the door, down the hall, and leave the shop. Everything is quiet from him, no movement is made or word is spoken, just a silent moment where he waits, and bides his time. There is no point in continuing this, in burning bridges before they have been made, in destroying any potential understanding they may have in the future. He knows and understands this.

In the end, the argument is over, and after everything that has happened, he lets Connor go.]

Edited 2014-01-21 00:50 (UTC)

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