[OPEN] Everyone wants to be like me

[sicarius]

Who: Ezio and YOU
What: With Ygdrassil falling apart, loss of memories aren't the only thing that's being messed with. Alignment switches might just end up happening too.
When: Day 447 onwards
Where: Odin at first, then all around
Rating: PG-13 cause lmao Templar Ezio 8'|

[A. BUREAU The morning starts as it usually does, sun rising over the horizon and a group of hooded figures running over the rooftops of the city. Despite the worrisome problems that have been arising within Asgard, it's important that training continue. If there isn't some semblance of normalcy somewhere, then it will be that much more difficult to keep anything organized.

The morning run goes uninterrupted, though the Italian has a feeling he's forgetting something important as the hours stretch into day. About home. After a shower and quick change, he settles down at the desk to work on papers, writing out schedules and other observations for the day. No sooner does he do this than promptly fall asleep, head to the desk with a light thud, out like a light.

And then wakes up again with a slight jump, eyes blinking almost as if he's entirely uncertain where he is. Which is now partially true.

The man who fell asleep is no longer the man who woke up. Ezio Auditore, the great Italian Mentor and head of the Italian Assassins during Renaissance Italy has now become Ezio Auditore, Grandmaster of the Templars and Ruler of Italy. The way he pauses and looks over the room almost makes it look as if he's seeing it for the first time. He's in the Assassin Bureau, a Templar lodged right into the fray of his enemy's home, and apparently this is... normal? No alarms have been raised, no anger thrown, it's as if he's supposed to be in here.

Ridiculous. Though he supposes it wouldn't hurt to look over things while he's here.

B. SHOP He's kept the illusion that everything's fine, and done what he can to help people. Which is actually pleasant, though perhaps not as close to others as he normally would be. He avoids talking excessively, but will chat if prompted. Ezio's whole demeanor is far more professional and cold, in a sense. It could be contributed to whatever's going on with what everyone else is feeling, but the Italian knows better. Come, keep him company. He's still incredibly good with his words.

C. ELSEWHERE Traveling through the city isn't a new thing for him- nothing's changed that he recalls, he simply seems to be placed in an alternate version of Asgard, somehow. One in which is ruled by Assassins rather than Templars. A shame. Asgard has such potential- and his enemies have already squandered it with the ideals of freedom over order, chaos over lawfulness. He simply walks along with others, sometimes disappearing out of sight, other times choosing to pull away and climb to the rooftops and travel that way.

He needs to find some place to go. One away from Assassin eyes and ears. This charade can only last so long, and he's certain a few of the members of the other order have noticed at least something odd about him.]

Comments

LATER, AFTER HE'S TAKEN PRISONER

[secondborn]

[It's Alastair's turn for guard duty, and he's not thrilled about it. He doesn't like it when his friends are not themselves, and this seems... more serious than the other times.

It's not that Alastair has anything against the Templars himself. He's still not entirely sure what it is about them that makes them so... terrible.

But there's something about Ezio that chills Alastair to the bone, the way he looks and talks, how it's the same but... also fundamentally different.

He's not sure how to take it.

So Alastair sits by the door, watching Ezio.]

I'm sorry about all this.

[It feels wrong, keeping him prisoner like this. But he won't go against the judgement of the others. They know better in this situation, after all.]

[sicarius]

[There is an odd innocence to be found within Alastair- at least, in this Asgard. Back home, he's far more cunning, far more relentless when lashing out, but the boy has done well under their stead and understands everything they say and do fully. Carrying it out is almost a second nature.

From where he sits in the room, he sits casually, hands clasped in front of him, one leg gently resting alongside himself on the bed. There is no hostility given to him whatsoever, the Templar sitting with an unnatural calm all around.

At Alastair's words, he just smiles gently. It's not the same smile that Ezio usually wears.]

It is not your fault, Alastair. If they wish to keep me here, I will not struggle against it.

[secondborn]

[Alastair tilts his head, watching him, noting the smile that's not quite familiar, the words that are careful and measured.

He takes a breath and leans back in his chair.

Why is he so different? What happened to him? What has he done?]

I'm not supposed to trust your word on that.

[sicarius]

Is that what they told you?

[Ezio gives the briefest of chuckles and looks back to the boy.]

Or are you allowed to think for yourself about me instead of simply following their words blindly?

[secondborn]

[Alastair sighs and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him.]

That's what they said. I'm taking it under advisement, but I haven't seen the evidence yet.

[Yet.]

[sicarius]

Bene. It is good to see that there is still a similarity here.

[He means to how Alastair is back in his Asgard, but it's vague for a number of reasons. He can't exactly give away secrets of the Templar Order, now can he?]

[secondborn]

Similarity?

[His brow furrows as he considers this.]

You mean between me and... whatever Alastair you're familiar with.

[He's not entirely sure he wants to think about what that Alastair is like, but he is suddenly very curious.]

[sicarius]

Sì, Alastair, the young man who joined us several months back.

[Only he joined the Templar Order.]

He has made great progress, as I am certain you have. The last I recall, he had begun to assemble a large group to fight back against the Imbalance back home. [A beat, and Ezio shakes his head rather coldly and cheerfully.] I believe the telling of my stories of what I had done at home might have been somewhat of an influence.

[secondborn]

[Alastair stares, baffled for a long moment.

He sits back and runs a hand through his hair, considering the implications of what he's just heard.]

A... large group to fight back.

[He takes a deep breath. It's... honestly something he'd considered before himself.]

And what... did you do back home to inspire that?

[sicarius]

The beginnings of an army, sì.

[Well now, he sees that hesitance. The conflicted look in his eyes that says he knows he shouldn't ask, but wants to anyway.

Good. The boy is just as gullible as an Assassin as he is a Templar. Though as a Templar he perhaps has a little more respect to his name than here.

Ezio shifts a little, unclasps his hands and reclasps them again, raising an eyebrow at the question.]

That depends. What do you know of my past here, Alastair?

[Ezio is almost positive the stories differ, but he has to start the ruining of the Assassin foundation somewhere.]

C.

[familyissues]

[ Desmond has been on shift today with Ezio since the morning, and.

Man, maybe he's paranoid, but Ezio seems off. The Mentor isn't always the chattiest Cathy, okay, particularly when Asgard has thrown the Assassins a new curve ball like it has this month, but there's an odd distance that sets this grandkid to worrying. For Ezio to be so strangely withdrawn must mean there's something wrong. As things continue to slide downhill, they can't afford to let any of their number suffer in silence, so Desmond resolves to approach him after work. ]

Hey, wait up! Padre!

[ You're not getting away that easily, Auditore. Desmond is light-footed when he tails Ezio down a side street not terribly far from the bureau, pulling up his hood against the gentle drizzle of the midday rain. ]

[sicarius]

[Ah, cazzo. Just when he'd thought he was clear. Ezio turns back to look, eyes meeting Desmond's briefly, before pushing forward into the alley and then climbing up towards the rooftop of a nearby building. He gives no acknowledgement verbally, but then again, he has no plan to.

Why do the Assassins insist on poking their noses where it doesn't belong? There's a bit of a sigh, but the Italian waits for the other once he reaches the top. Desmond has been exceptionally close this whole day and trying to act as if they were connected- even going as far as to call him padre. Hah. His assassin self is just as weak as he expected, forming relationships to keep himself from constantly breaking.

Well. If this Assassin wants to speak with this Templar, then so be it. But let it be known, the end result will not be in either of their favor.]

[familyissues]

[ It's not uncommon for Ezio to get a wild hair and have a bit of fun at the Assassins' expense either, so Desmond isn't too put out when he's got to scramble after Ezio onto the roof. Desmond also doesn't beat around the bush once he's up there, coming in closer, hands tucked into the front pockets of his hoodie. ]

Hey Mentore, are you all right? You seemed a bit out of it today, I was just... if all this memory bullshit's getting to you too, y'know, I've got time and an ear to bend.

[sicarius]

[Ezio tilts his head at that, watching the other come closer and shrugging a little in response.]

I am not certain as to what it is, Desmond. [His brow furrows, something to assist in his lying nature.] Everything here feels wrong, somehow.

[His hands go behind his back at this, as if he's considering something greater than what he alludes to, but all he's truly doing is carefully measuring how close Desmond is. Convince him that there is nothing wrong.

After all, there is nothing wrong. Nothing at all.]

[familyissues]

[ A silvery spectre darts by in his peripheral- he tugs lightly at his hood, shutting it out with the casual motion. Desmond scratches the day old scruff on his jaw at Ezio's question, unknowingly mirroring his expression. ]

That's about par for the course. How do you mean?

[ Ah, he'd thought there was something amiss. It's hard to feel any satisfaction from that though, but at least he can be of some help, right? ]

[sicarius]

[He steps closer at that, shaking his head a little.]

It is a feeling. Beyond whatever the memory problems people have been having.

[A sigh, and he turns to the other, showing how he is uncertain how else to describe it.]

Odin is asleep, the gods are stretched thin, Thiazi and Surt have waged war upon each other- I fear things will only get worse as time progresses.

[There is an idea that slips into his mind, and he offers a slight smile for his words. It's perhaps not the same as what he would usually wear, more distanced and not as heartfelt.]

[familyissues]

[ What? Have a small quirk of his brow, Auditore, and Desmond's honest opinion. ]

I haven't known you to dwell so much, Ezio, where is this coming from? The deck might seem stacked against us, but we all seem to have a knack for getting through the worst together.

Maybe, it just. Hm. It feels like maybe we aren't asking the right questions, like the answer or something close to it is right in our reach if we know where to look.

[ Desmond flicks his gaze over the rooftops, muted under the iron-grey sky, and looks back to his ancestor. ]

[sicarius]

[There is a blink, as if he's been caught by surprise for thinking so negatively. Instead, it's for him realizing he's acting different to what he should be. There's an inner swearing of his carelessness, but he recovers and laughs a little, smiling.]

Look at you, Desmond. Leading where I should be. [A pause, and he looks back over to the horizon, then back to the other.] If we are not asking the right questions, where do you think we will find the clues to know what to say?

[Let's use this chance as one to be close and use his mentoring skills, and also perhaps do more than congratulate.

Still, he tilts his head and then, moves to embrace him, arms giving an all too familiar Italian grandfather hug, Ezio making sure he's careful with his next move.]

Whatever it is, I am certain we will find it together.

[His right hand flicks, and the hidden blade there slides out, his hand aiming right for Desmond's gut.]

All of us.

[familyissues]

[ Something's wrong. He might not have his second sight here in Asgard, but Desmond still has his instincts, and there's something very, very wrong.

Another blade connects with Ezio's, steel shrieking against steel. Desmond grunts, driving it out and away, but not before its tip connects, slicing through Desmond's clothes like they're tissue-thin and scoring a line across his abdomen. It's a familiar sensation, but this time he's ready for it, ignoring the pain, the betrayal in lieu of the adrenaline rush. They're still close enough to embrace, so Desmond does the opposite, cracking his grandfather reflexively in the nose with his forehead and pushing him away with one solid motion, darting out of the reach of his blade.

Desmond presses his hand to his gut, the wound stinging angrily, already beginning to stain through his hoodie. To say that he's shocked would be an understatement, he's horrified right to his core and at once vindicated, terrified of what this means. This isn't some carefully moderated training exercise, Ezio just stabbed him, and that by definition means that this is not Ezio at all. ]

What the fuck! Who are you?!

Bureau. UuU

[emergingspirit]

[Connor is in his own room when Ezio comes back from his run. They say their usual brief hellos before Ezio goes off to his paperwork and Connor returns to his reading. All is quiet for some time before he hears the distinct "thump" of a head hitting a desk and has to stifle a laugh.

...Honestly, Mentor, sleep in your bed.

A minute or two later, Connor puts his book away and walks into the Bureau proper, where Ezio is still investigating things. This doesn't immediately raise any alarms in Connor's mind. He's been moving books around quite a bit and not managed to put everything back where it belongs in the process. Oops.]

If you are looking for the book I borrowed from you last week, Mentor, I still have it in my room.

[Sorry. UnU]

[sicarius]

[Connor's voice startles Ezio a little, but he hides it well under a grin and a turn of his head. Ah, he should have expected to find at least one Assassin in here.]

Not quite. But I thank you, Connor.

[His eyes dart around the room again, hands reshuffling the books within the bookcase, and silently continues on his way.

...That's a little odd for a man who's so chatty, normally. Maybe he's sick?]

[emergingspirit]

[That's very odd, and doesn't escape Connor's notice. Normally, Ezio is talkative and will easily carry a conversation even when Connor is too tired to offer up much more than the occasional monosyllabic response. To have the tables turned is...somewhat concerning, actually.]

Are you well, mentor? You are not yourself.

[sicarius]

[Ah, there is an inner twinge at how the other notices, but Ezio remembers something, at least, of what's going on. His brow furrows, looking back to the other again and fumbling for words, hands now away from the bookshelf and giving a rather confusing gesture.]

I am fine, but... [There is hesitance here, a part he plays well.] I cannot remember where anything goes or is placed within the Bureau.

[Memory loss seems to be a common happening now, whether it is a small thing or something more. He might as well pretend there is something off, if only to give the other a reason for his "differences."

Now let's just hope he won't dote on him for too long.]

[emergingspirit]

[Oh no, not Ezio, too. Seems like half the city has forgotten who they are or where they've come from or something along those lines. It was only a matter of time before it affected the Assassins. Simple statistics dictated memory problems would show up among their numbers eventually. Connor frowns, this time out of a sense of concern. He has no idea how long the effect will last, or if it will get worse. If Ezio cannot remember where things belong in the Bureau, encouraging him to stay might prove helpful.

On the other hand, if Ezio forgets more, it might be better to have him out of the Bureau...]

Perhaps you should go down to the shop and have some tea. I will straighten things up in here, and it will be easier for you when you return to find things.

[...Yes. That seems best. A compromise between the two options.]

[sicarius]

[There is a blink when Connor frowns, and then a look of relief as he tells him to go downstairs, as if a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. In truth, this will just give him a good reason to leave without being suspicious. The easier to leave, the better.

If he really wanted to come back up, he could, he supposes. Or just climb in through the open rooftop during the night. Whichever works for the Templar.]

Grazie, Connor. That makes this easier for the both of us, I believe.

[Luckily, he knows how to get out- that much hasn't changed from the Templar hold back in his Asgard. Downstairs isn't much of an issue either, other than the constant re-greetings he has by who he believes are the novices of the group. Everyone's attitude here is far lighter and far more careless than back home.

Naturally, after a bit of exploring in the kitchen, Ezio settles into the store room in the back, a cup of tea with him, but obviously untouched. He's there to settle things in his mind, to make a plan and what steps he must take in order to act them out.

He has to be careful, though. There are Assassins crawling everywhere.]