This is my first Assassin's Creed fanfiction, so please don't hate me if it sucks. Please?

Disclaimer: I only own a copy. And... the plot of this particular fiction... and my computer. The concept idea for the Assassin's Creed saga belongs solely to Ubisoft and their staff. Nor do I own any song the main character may sing, hum, and/or think. It can happen.

~X~

"Aw, come on!" I shouted angrily at my TV screen, gripping my Xbox three-sixty controller tighter. "I so freaking countered that pansy!" This was one of my usual rage quits when I died and/or lost in a video game. Well, in this case, desyncronized.

The white loading screen flashed it's usual red when desynchronized, only this time, the red flickered faster, almost to the point that it could have given anyone a seizure. The rain beating against the window began thrashing violently against the sheet of glass, a vein of white flashing across the black, cloudy sky, it's companion screeching right after the lightning. I glanced over at my digital clock where the blocked, red numbers were flashing 2:45 a.m slowly. Another vein crawled through the clouds, and with another sonic boom, the room went black.

The only thing emitting light into the room was the TV that stayed frozen at it's loading screen. I flicked the joystick forwards, but Ezio did not move. 'The fuck? I pressed X to try to make him punch the air, only to achieve the same outcome. I groaned and rubbed my temples.

I swore at the electrical box, walked up to it and swiped my hand over the power sensor.

It didn't turn off.

I tried again, but the green light shone. "The hell...?" I heard myself subconsciously mutter as I examined the black console, feeling how hot the fans and filters were. They were as cold as ice. I felt the power adapter, a little warmer, but not much.

I tapped the TV screen again, then tried pounding it with my fist (not to where it would break), then after one last pound, I felt my arm go through the screen. Something grabbed my right hand, yanking the rest of me through the screen. I screamed, but soon it was silenced, replaced by a mumble.

A flash of white, and I found myself staggering in the middle of a dirt-paved road. Groups of people all around me talking combined into a single noise of mumbled words, making it harder for me to concentrate and figure out where I was. This looks almost identical to-

"Get down, now!" a strict voice ordered from a rooftop high above me. I glanced in that direction, seeing a shadowed silhouette leaping towards the speaking man. In a matter of seconds, the loudmouth wielding a bow and arrow was dead, forever silenced. The figure continued through the rooftops, and I followed him, keeping my eye away from him for no more than five seconds at a time before maneuvering through the crowd. As I walked, I noticed a very obvious difference in the attire of those around me and my own. My black spaghetti-strap pajama tank top over my sports bra straps combined with the too-loose shirt straps limping over and around my shoulders were matched perfectly with a grey denim skort, and black high-top Converse shoes (gee, aren't I colorful?).

The shadow stopped on a building (which luckily had a ladder) and looked over the scene. I scurried to the wooden ladder and scaled it as fast as I could. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the 'silhouette' was garbed in a bleach white robe, with a hood covering their head. I took a step, pigeons flying away in fright, and the cloaked man turned around to glare at me. A blade elongated from his left wrist, light reflecting off of it, emphasizing how serious he was. "Who are you?" he demanded in a strong Italian accent. I saw a glint of my reflection in the blade, and took a step back, heart beating to the point I felt it in my head and heard it pounding in my ears.

"B-Bonnie," I replied shakily, stuttering unintentionally. He took five steps forward. Take a second to look awesome- time to go, walk in slow motion so you still look awesome... I found myself mentally singing. Wait a second...

"Bonnie, who sent you?" the male interrogated.

I grumbled. "Listen, buddy, tell me who you are, first, before you ask me questions!" I retorted. "Besides, it's common courtesy to give your name before asking for another's."

The robe-clad man advanced and I mirrored the action; trying to give the illusion I wasn't scared anymore. I doubt it was working. I yanked down his white hood, and saw a very familiar face. "My name? It's none of your concern!" We had a staring contest for a minute, then I broke it when I saw a poster behind him. I might have known his name, but it would be weird blurting out his name before he said it. You understand.

"... No fair, jackass," I whined, crossing my arms and pouting. Then, I shrugged, getting an idea. "Then I'll have to call you Puttana if you won't tell me your name. Hey, Puttana, where are you going, anyways?"

'Puttana' shoved me dangerously close to the edge of the building. "My name is not Puttana, imbecile*, it's Ezio Auditore da Firenze, and where I'm going is none of your concern, so move along, little kid."

I laughed. "No." He glared, then turned around. Ezio then yanked his white hood on and turned on his heels. I ran up behind him, and before he could react, I jumped on his back. "Tell me!" I gripped his shoulders, wrapping my legs around his waist for leverage. Ezio lost his balance, and he stumbled back into a roof garden, sending the both of us in it. I yelped when we hit the bottom, air momentarily leaving my lungs. "Will you tell me now...?" I asked with the little air that my lungs would allow. Inhaling, then breathing normally, I awaited his answer. He grunted lightly as he got up. I simply sat up and looked at him expectantly.

Under his breath, I heard him mutter "Persistant woman." I gave him the 'I'm waiting~' look that I pulled off so well with my friends. "I still won't tell you." I sighed, then tilted my head down slightly, looking up with my eyes only, and pushing my lower lip out. The Puppy Dog face.

"Please?" I stood up and walked over to him. Yes, I know that it probably wasn't very seductive, but I tried. And, with knowing Ezio, anything even trying to seduce him will probably work. My expression faded, and changed to a smile.

He gave in. Either I have a hidden ability to seduce people, he's just that easy, or I'm living up to my name meaning*. And I highly doubt the former and ladder. "So you'll tell me?"

Ezio gave a slight nod. "Si." Is he going to tell me or just stand there like a jerk? "I'm going to tear down posters, bribe orators, or kill those who bear false witness against me." I resisted the urge to face palm at how closely he said that to how Paola did. Only... nice vocabulary. Instead of simply saying 'bribe the heralds,' he called them orators. Nicely done.

Then excitement in the form of adrenaline ran through my blood. "I can help! I saw a poster right behind you when I confronted you!" I exclaimed, hopping out of the roof garden and running to the parchment. I ripped it off the arrow that was pinning it to the wall. I ripped it into several pieces before I was satisfied. I always wanted to do that.

"Go find a herald to bribe, I'll go tear down another poster!" I ordered, climbing back down the ladder and looking for rectangular pieces of parchment in the most hard-to-reach places possible.

I finally found one above an iron plat form next to some convinently placed boxes. The only thing that was in the way as a not-so-conveniently placed swingy pole. Yes. A swingy pole. Damn you, gymnastics. Damn you. Sighing, I scaled the boxes and leapt off the edge of the top box, grabbing the pole and let physics handle the rest.

My heart was pounding as I released the bar, landing on the iron platform. I took a second as I let my heart rate even out. I got up, my legs shaking a little bit as I ripped the poster from the wall. Looking cockily at the swingy pole, I jumped and reached out for it. However, I overbound and the metal came in firm contact with my gut and I fell to the ground, clutching my stomach in pain. People backed away as I groaned and got on all fours, coughing and trying to breathe properly and trying to recover from stunning my diaphram.

"Who is this?" demanded a figure in front of me. Oh shit...

I hope it doesn't suck too bad! :D

*Imbecile (Ehm-bah-chee-lay) is Italian for jerk.

*Bonnie is Scottish for pretty or attractive. Honestly, I didn't know that until I Googled it. I'm sticking to the name, not because of the meaning, just because I like the name :3 Problem?

Please review and give me pointers! (and possibly a thesaurus?)

Peace! :D

Editor: ErinEhmazing. She is truly ehmazing, eh? (Don't hate me for that, readers who are actually Canadians. I was making a point.)