disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed or any of its characters.
Warning... Mood-whiplash abound.
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The thoughts of Ezio and Altaïr.
(Which Desmond or Clay might or might not hear.)
"The normal speech of Altaïr and Ezio."
"(Which Desmond or Clay could always hear, to Altaïr's and Ezio's dismay.)"
- The words of Desmond and Clay. -
- (Which was broadcast, but Altaïr and Ezio might or might not acknowledge.) -
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Content Data, Glitch
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[Masyaf. 1191.] (Ezio. Desmond.)
- There's a Masyaf banner. -
"I saw it." Ezio's answer was brief and a bit harsh, prancing past the aforementioned Assassin Flag without taking a second glance. He rarely acted like this, he knew. But the Florentine Eagle had just been publicly humiliated; the whole Brotherhood hated him even after he played a big part in driving out the Crusader forces; and to add insult to injury, he was stripped of all ranks and weapons.
Right now, Ezio just wanted to get to the village market to finish the current objective of finding the traitor and leave this unfriendly town. Being resented by enemies was comical, being despised by allies? Not so much.
- Aren't you going to do anything about it? -
The white-robed Assassin stopped his indignant strides, a little impatient and feeling very vulnerable without anything sharp in his hands. "What?" Ezio asked under his breath, to avoid unwanted people listening in, as he backtracked to the white and red flag that was erected at the side of a small shack. "What am I suppose to do with it?"
- Push it down. - Desmond's advice was as puzzling as always. - Altaïr always does it. It gives you extra percentage of synch. -
"... Why?" Ezio questioned, very confused, but did as he was told and tipped over the flagpole. It toppled with a small Thud. "And then?"
- And that's done. - Desmond informed. - Your synch rate just went up 2%. -
"... I don't get it. At all."
- Neither do I. - Desmond sheepishly confessed, basically admitting he was a poor Observer. - I tried asking Altaïr about it before, but he tends to ignore me most of the time. And I never press him for answers because... -
"Shh!" Ezio very suddenly held up a hand. It was then did Desmond notice the oddly familiar rafiq and the black cloaked villager talking in hoarse whispers, so the modern Assassin wisely kept his mouth shut as the younger-older computerized intelligence listen in.
"Hmm, Masun and the basket weaver." Ezio thoughtfully ticked off, having learned what he needed.
- Now that is just uncanny. -
"What is?"
- How in hell did you know to get that information here? - Desmond asked with much incredulity. - I originally thought you and Altaïr only know exactly when to be where in your respective memory sequences was due to having lived them before. -
"Of course not. How could we relive memories if we could foretold what will happen next?" Ezio explained with a light laugh. "That's why a failsafe mechanism installed within the Animus system keeps renewing our accessible memory files, to prevent the failure of synching on the subconscious level. So it's kind of like a new experience for us every single time."
- That still didn't explain how you know to come here. -
"I don't. I've just been eavesdropping on everyone we went past."
- ... that is just uncanny. -
Ezio snickered, stealing a small orange as he walked pass the fruit stand. "I still need the locations of all the basket weavers in this town though. Altaïr might know where they are, but I sure don't."
- Okay, hold on. I'm uploading that information onto your database now. -
The Italian nodded.
What the Florentine Assassin did not share was...
... If he could just remember beforehand that his father and brothers would die that day at the Piazza della Signoria, he would not give a shit about synching.
He knew he could not change the past. Because he was just a mass collection of data with a computerized sentience, and history was solid and unforgiving. But he would be lying to say he did not want to change a memory.
Of course Desmond could not really understand. And could only see the image of a young man who stole a piece of fruit from a merchant's booth with a smile that could only be genuine.
But that was fine.
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[Florentine Republic. 1476.] (Altaïr. Clay.)
- If you don't start trying to act like Ezio, your hard-earned synch rate will go down the drain. - Clay couldn't help but spoke up as he watched Altaïr stalk the streets of Florence with the intensity of a panther after its prey. - Turn around, you're walking right pass a distressed-looking beautiful lady! Ezio would never do that! -
"I am on a mission."
- No, you're not. - The omnipotent voice corrected. - You're running errands for your family, there's a difference. Loose the strut and stop glaring at everyone like they owe you money. And go talk to the lady. -
Resisting the urge to sigh, Altaïr begrudgingly obliged. "What is it?" He demanded, and the woman shrank back at his obvious impatience and hostility.
- Real charming. - Clay would roll his eyes.
"Another unfaithful man." The Syrian inwardly shook his head as the woman spilled out her troubles in fright and– upon catching sight of some Vieri de' Pazzi's men off the corner of his eyes– bade her a terse farewell, before climbing up a worn down scaffolding nearby then took a daring leap to the derelict building next to it. Grabbing onto a protruding ledge without problem, he quickly disappeared onto the slanted roofs.
After sprinting a short way, Altaïr saw a raised structure.
A hawk screeched, the temptation of freedom.
And the Masyaf Assassin clambered to the very top in record time, because though this body might be too stiff and too heavy and causing problems most of the time, he still had to admit when it came to climbing, he really loved it.
Activating the Vision, the young Eagle soon spotted his prey...
... And pounced!
The next moment, Clay was causing a racket at the top of his lungs. - What is wrong with you? Altaïr, the NO KILLING innocent rule too hard for you to understand?! -
But per usual, Altaïr ignored the voice ringing in his ears and disposed the body into the cart full of rosy flower petals, focus already back to the task of delivering Father's packages.
- That just cut your synch rate by half. VERY amusing. -
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[Masyaf. 1191.] (Ezio. Desmond.)
"That went surprisingly well."
- You were expecting things to go wrong? -
Ezio carefully secured the sack of rations onto a black stallion with white hoof markings before mounting the steed. "I would say I've been living as Altaïr for about a day now, and honestly? I have renewed my respect for him."
- Why? -
"You would not believe how difficult it is to be him."
- Uhh... Are you going to elaborate? - Desmond asked.
"Promise not to tell anyone and I'll tell you." Ezio smirked cryptically as he steer the horse towards the countryside.
- Okay...? -
"He's fragile."
- Excuse me? -
"He's fragile." The Florentine Assassin repeated. "So much that I don't think we can take a hit."
- Oh, I know that. - Desmond agreed. - Synch rate always drops drastically whenever I cause him to mess up a parry, and he wouldn't talk to me for hours afterwards every time that happens. -
"No, no. I mean literally cannot take a hit." Ezio rephrased. "Remember a few hours ago when we took a shortcut out the castle window? Well, I think I almost broke my fingers trying to catch that ledge on the way down."
- You WHAT?! -
"Yeah, so I don't think we should attempt that anymore." The Italian feigned a mock seriousness. "Now I'm afraid I'll bruise if we bump into things." The Florentine Eagle could almost see his youngest descendant shaking a head at that comment. "And here I am, growing increasingly worried of the day I need to defend our delicate flesh."
- Sounds like you'll do fine. -
"Really though. I seriously cannot imagine how he managed to achieve the Master Assassin rank at such a young age, especially with... this." Ezio gestured generally at himself. "He has got to be impossibly good."
- Oh, I can vouch for that. -
They talked amongst themselves on random things until they closed in on the archway that marked the borders of the Assassin territory, and Ezio straightened himself before blinking his eyes into shimmering gold. "Jamal is over there, should we do something about it?"
- Altaïr assassinated him the last time we synched. But I think he only did it for giggles. -
"... Can you stop giving me confusing instructions?"
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[Florentine Republic. 1476.] (Altaïr. Clay.)
How did it happen?
It was dusk. The beginning of living the second day as this curious Italian teen.
And the Palazzo Auditore was eerily still. Forbidding in this strange quietness, and all warmth and welcome gone with the absence of its cheerful residents.
How did it happen?
His mother was defiled and in shock.
She is not my mother.
His sister was frightened.
She is not my sister.
His father and brothers accused and in prison.
He is not my father. He is not my brother. He is not my...
How did it happen?
It was night.
Altaïr found himself climbing the restricted clock tower of Palazzo della Signoria, clutching tightly onto the steel bars over a high drop and desperately looking for a way to make everything alright.
And now he could see what his father truly was. Not a persecuted banker but an eagle, broken and would be another sacrifice for war.
No. Altaïr had to forcefully remind himself. He is not my father.
How did it happen?
And then it was dawn.
And Altaïr was at the city square.
The sky flickered and flickered. Clay was silent. But the Masyaf Eagle did not care.
He was seventeen, and he saw his father and brothers executed.
He was eleven, and he saw his father beheaded.
Then Altaïr very suddenly remembered he had already seen that five thousand times, maybe more and counting, once for each reruns of his files.
And always so powerless to prevent the inevitable.
The landscape flickered and shook.
And only the wind heard his cries.
He was at the fortress. He was at the city square.
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Memory Synchronization: 100%
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Memory Synchronization: 100%... 90%... 50%... 10%...
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Memory Synchronization: ... 0%
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Memory Synchronization: 0%
Memory Synchronization: 0%
Memory Synchronization: 0%
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SYSTEM FAILURE.
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Restarting...
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Restarting...
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Restarting...
Restarting...
Restarting...
Restarting...
Restarting... ...
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Note
Ezio is physically stronger and tougher than Altaïr. There are multiple instances in the AC games that hinted as such.
1) When executing the multiple hidden blade stabs to the torso, Ezio performs more strikes than Altaïr in the same amount of time. This is because it is easier for him to pull back blades buried in another's body.
2) Altaïr needs special harness for protection to perform the Catch Ledge, Ezio does not.
- In the current memory sequence, Ezio was not in possession of that glove, thus he almost wounded himself when attempting the stunt.
3) When performing the Climb Leap, Ezio supports his whole body weight with one arm, a feat beyond Altaïr's physical ability.
- This advantage in strength also allowed him to scale buildings faster, as Altaïr found out.
However, the greater in muscle mass means Ezio is heavier than Altaïr. This is another reason for his lack of relative fluidity and flexibility.
Also, when running straight-up the wall from a level, due to being lighter, Altaïr can reach a higher handhold. Thus most of the time, he doesn't require the aforementioned Climb Leap skill.
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Please note that Altaïr is still a lot stronger than average and that Ezio is more flexible than most men, due to the life they lead.
The digital conscious of Altaïr had the mentality of when he was 17, to correspond with the physical age of Ezio during that memory sequence. This meant he WOULD waste the lives of innocents if they got in his way.
