A/N: Thanks for reading and giving me feedback! It really helps me as a writer, and I strive for improvement!
I had a little too much fun writing this (like I seem to do with anything I write with Ezio or Connor in it)! This has been the longest chapter I've written so far, and I'm quite proud of it!
Anyway, that's enough of my incessant rambling! Here's another odd chapter by yours truly! :)
Ezio downed the last of his fifth ale, slamming his mug on the small table. He smacked his lips as a slight burning sensation tickled the back of his throat. Clearing it away, he glanced at his descendant, who had just done the same task, only with two mugs of ale in his system. "Connor?" he asked, slightly slurring. "You know what?"
Connor cocked his brow, tapping his fingertips on the tabletop. He shifted in his chair and leaned in close. "What?"
Ezio curled his lips into a broad smile. "I tshlink I like it here." He rumbled a deep chuckle in the base of his throat, his cheeks numbing. "I really enshjoy thish plache, Connor."
Connor bit back a smile. "You have never had ale, have you?"
Ezio shook his head after a moment. "Nah, never had shit in Italy. Only wine."
Connor leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest. He closed his eyes, allowing his ale to settle.
Ezio, his grin still plastered to his face, merely laughed. "You know what would be a grand idea, amico?" A few seconds ticked by, and Connor hadn't responded. Ezio then became aware that he was ignored by his descendant. "Well, fottiti, too!" he growled, shooting up from his seat.
The world spun, causing Ezio to cling to the table for support. Ezio's vision dulled in sharpness, and everything shifted in and out of focus. He chuckled at his own clumsiness as he staggered towards the bar next to a young woman.
He had eyed her the whole night, and he finally decided to make his move.
Ezio rested his chin on her shoulder. "Hello, belladonna," he purred, causing the young woman to slightly jump. "I have been watcshing you from afar, and I musht shay that you are…" He paused at his words. What was she? How could he describe her? Attractive? Beautiful? Gorgeous? Stunning? "…pretty," he finished with a goofy smile, wrapping his arms around her waist.
The woman shrieked, trying to pull away from him. "Guards! Guards!" She tried ripping herself from his grasp, but he only pulled her closer.
"Amore mio," he pleaded. "Don't do thish."
"Guards!" she shrieked once more as she began to elbow him in the ribs in an attempt to escape.
He chuckled at the woman's futile attempts as the front door flung open, five Lobsterbacks filing in with their muskets locked and loaded.
Ezio peered at them, dropping the woman, who ran to the nearest guard.
"Thank God in Heaven!" she exclaimed, getting behind the guard. "He would've made off with me had he gotten the chance! He would've done cruel things, very cruel things, sirs! He would've had his way with me then fled to the next young girl and do the same thing!"
The five Redcoats glared at Ezio, who merely stumbled in front of the leader, which happened to be the biggest and burliest out of the five.
Ezio frowned at the man before him. "You," he growled, "are the ugliest shtronzo I've ever laid eyesh upon."
A heavy hand gripped his shoulder. "Ezio," Connor warned quietly, "you might want to save your words for when you can defend yourself soberly."
The ancestor scoffed. "Thish bashtardo wash about to shay shomnething, I tshlink."
"Ezio!" Connor hissed, pulling the Italian back. "Shut your mouth before you start something!"
The Florentine merely threw his head back in laughter. He jabbed a finger in the burly Redcoat's chest as he wobbled drunkenly. "You wanna shee shomethin' shtarted? I'll shtart in hish wife'sh vagina!" He grinned deviously, glancing downward. "Bet hish coglioni don't shatishfy her, either."
The guard's face flared in rage as he Ezio in the head with the butt of his musket, sending him to the floor.
Ezio, sprawled in the middle of the floor on his back, couldn't help but find his situation very amusing. He rumbled in laughter, clutching his stomach. He felt himself be grabbed by the front of his robes and being pulled up.
The Redcoat lifted him level to his own face. "You're gonna come with me, prick," he growled in a cockney accent. "You and your accomplice."
Connor's ears perked. "Accomplice? I am no one's accomplice!" he defended. "I have done nothing wrong!"
"Wait," one of the guards suddenly peeped, stepping closer to the Native. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "This one's the one who's been goin' around killin' people! They must be working together! Get 'em!"
Pandemonium broke loose at that moment. All patrons scattered out of the small tavern, just leaving the five guards with the two Assassins.
The Redcoats surrounded Connor, who couldn't save himself, let alone Ezio. There was nowhere to run, and if he was to attempt escaping, he'd have to leave the Italian, who most likely had no idea what prison was like. He had no weapons, nothing. He simply raised his arms in defeat while Ezio's throat rumbled in a drunken chuckle.
"Luridi branco di cani bashtardi got ush, huh?" Ezio slurred, lolling his head towards Connor's direction.
Connor winced as a gruff hand slammed down on his own shoulders. "Yes, Ezio, yes they did."
"Ugh," Ezio groaned as he winced at his massive headache. He clenched his fists as he slowly raised his body upwards into a sitting position. "Merda," he hissed as he slowly opened his eyes, the light from the candles outside his cell blinding.
He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them as he slowly stood up. His stomach refused the motion, and he gagged. He hadn't eaten anything in a while, so he didn't worry about his stomach being emptied.
Slamming back down on the bed, Ezio cursed under his breath as his entire body ached—especially his ribs. He was clueless as to where he could've possibly obtained bruised ribs, and he casted the thought aside as he took in his surroundings.
He was in a shoddy cell with rats lurking in the corners. He glanced down at his garb, finding a simple, beige cotton top and dark, cotton pants that fell just below his knees. Someone had done the unsettling liberty of stripping him down to what God had given him and then dressing him in filthy apparel.
He shook at the thought.
On the other side of the cell, he noticed that the stone had been pummeled through to a point that a gaping hole looked into the next cell. Iron bars were placed inside, most likely for security reasons.
Rising slowly a second time, he padded across the stone floor, stepping in various bodily fluids he didn't want to imagine. Peering into the next cell, he barely made out a sleeping form in the shadows.
"Connor!" he hissed. "Connor!"
The body did not stir, which caused Ezio to become agitated. Looking around the cell, in what little lighting there was, Ezio tapped into his Eagle Vision, enabling him to see slightly better. Inwardly cheering, he curled his fingers around a small stone and returned to the small window in the dividing wall. Aiming carefully, he released the stone, allowing it to soar through the hole and land smack-dab in the middle of Connor's back.
He stirred, causing Ezio to cheer silently.
"Connor!" he hissed. "Over here, idiota!"
The other man rose from his slumber and staggered to the window, meeting Ezio in the eye.
His face was severely scarred, and his lips curled into a sinister snarl. "Who you callin' idiota, sweetheart?" the man growled, grabbing the bars that separated them harshly and with such a grip that Ezio was certain that the man was going to rip the bars from the stone. The man leaned in close to the bars, his breath reeking worse than the bucket that had reserved for, well, relieving oneself in the cell. "I dunno who this Connah charactah is, but believe you me, if I eva' get me hands on you, bitch…" the man, who was clearly not Connor, grinned deviously in the midst of his sentence, allowing Ezio to fill in the blanks mentally. "You're gunna be me new wife," he concluded with his cockney drawl.
Ezio raised his hands in defense. "Mi dispiace veramente," he said quickly. "I thought you were someone else."
The man growled once more and rattled the bars a bit before stumbling blindly towards his bed, where he collapsed into a deep sleep upon impact.
Ezio's forehead broke into a nervous sweat as he paced his cell for lack of anything better to do. He casted a glance at the other wall, noticing that there was another hole in the wall. The hole revealed a young man with a look on his face that seemed to be his attempt to bite back a smirk.
"Did you make a new friend?" Connor asked with a hint of sarcasm as he rested his elbows on the edge of the hole.
Ezio narrowed his eyes at his Native descendant. "Chiudi il becco, bastardo," he growled, causing the descendant to chuckle slightly, maintaining a seemingly calm face. The Florentine approached the hole and pierced Connor with his gaze. "Where are we?"
Connor sighed heavily. "Bridewell Prison in New York."
Ezio cocked a brow. "New York? What happened to OldYork?"
Connor deadpanned with an agitated gleam in his eye. "How about you ask your new husband in the cell next to you?"
Ezio worked an irritated tic in his jaw. "Never mind the lurido porco." He pondered a moment, stroking his chestnut facial hair. "Bridewell Prison, you say? It sounds as if you know the place from experience, amico."
Connor grimaced, averting eye contact with his ancestor. "I was charged not too long ago and was held in here for a few days." His gaze trailed off, seeming to recall the memory vividly. He shook himself out of his small trance and returned his gaze towards the eagle. "But never mind as to why I know this place. Pay attention to how I know this place."
The ancestor nodded slowly, understanding his meaning. "You know a way out of this hellhole," he proceeded, receiving a firm nod from the descendant. "Va bene."
The Native Assassin leaned into the gap, dropping the volume of his voice a few notches. "I am going to need a couple of days for preparation. We cannot cause any disturbances until then, understand?"
"Sì," the Italian responded. "How do you suppose we accomplish this feat?"
"I will inform you at a different time," Connor answered matter-of-factly. "For now, just sleep. I know your head must be pounding from your drunken escapade."
Ezio glared at the other Assassin. "Marmocchio," he muttered as he internally agreed. He was in pain, and he didn't want to be reminded of it.
"Hey!" a voice shouted. "Wake up!"
And to follow the command was a nice, refreshing kick to the ribs.
Ezio winced, clutching his already-bruised ribs as he felt one seemingly break. If it hadn't been cleanly broken, he'd just obtained a cracked one, which still caused a veil of pain to shroud his vision.
"I know you're awake, you little shit, now get your ass up before I make you!"
"Cazzo," the Florentine muttered under his breath as he slowly rolled to his better side and rose to his feet, clutching his side. He felt the guard shove him from behind, and he exited his cell with the guard barking orders—and insults to top them off—behind him.
Ezio must have descended the stairs at a slower rate than the guard desired because before he was near the bottom, the guard decided to allow him to take a tumble the rest of the way.
Hitting the bottom, the Florentine groaned in pain as he was certain that his ribs were indeed broken—not that he had access to any medicine anyway. He was yanked up by the guard and tossed into the midst of the other prisoners.
Grunting in pain once more, Ezio stood tall and scouted the area, finding Connor in the back of the crowd. He walked to his descendant, his arm wrapped around his side in an attempt to lessen the pain.
"What happened to you?" Connor questioned, gesturing to the man's side.
Ezio narrowed his eyes, turning his head toward the guard that had injured him. "That figlio d'un cane there." He cut his eyes back to his descendant. "I just now know never to be thrown into a hellhole as this."
Connor folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the back wall as he ducked his head downwards. "You should join me. It is less conspicuous than standing there with your back turned towards everyone else."
The Florentine followed suit and gave a sideways glance at the wolf. "What exactly do you propose we do now?"
The wolf sighed. "I have a key replica at my disposal. I need to get yours fabricated, and once I do, I will slip it to you. You will know more once I have that accomplished."
The Italian arched his brow. "Oh? So you know exactly how this will all fall?"
The other man slightly shook his head. "No, but I have done something like this before," he reminded him. "I was let along as you are now. I cannot chance anything falling into the wrong hands at this crucial moment. Things need to fall into place at the moment, and nothing can interrupt them. Understand?"
Ezio gave a heavy sigh, which cause his ribs to ache. "Va bene."
The two men stood there in the same spots on the wall until the guards dispersed everyone back to their respective cells.
Over the next couple of days, Ezio had made the conscious decision that never again would he cause enough public grief that he would end up in any type of prison again. No matter if he was in Connor's world or his own. He was not to engage in drunken revelry again.
The man who had promised the Florentine eagle as his—ahem—spouse never looked far from Ezio's location at any given point in time.
It sent chills down the Assassin's spine.
He was accustomed to women of all types gazing at him with large eyes and practically bowing before him with lustful intentions, but he had never been threatened by anyone of the male species.
In that respect, he vowed to stay far from all other prisoners as God would allow him.
Connor eventually gave him the other key replica and told him the rest of the plan.
"Now," he began, shifting his eyes for wandering prisoners, "you know how the guards threaten to throw us in the pit? We need to get thrown into it. Guards patrol the cells, giving you only a few seconds to slip the key from their belt and swap it for the fake." He glanced at his ancestor for a moment, allowing all of this to soak into his head. "Is the plan solid enough for you?"
Ezio pondered a moment, inhaling deeply. "And how do we get thrown into the pit, exactly? Pick a fight with bastardi?"
The Native nodded grimly. "Yes, we both have to in order to get out of here. Are you in shape to fight?"
Ezio chuckled softly. "I've seen better days, amico, but I've also been near the brink of death. I can manage for now."
The other Assassin slightly smiled. "Good. We start now. Try to take out as many as you can," he said before he himself walked from the wall towards a lowly prisoner.
And the brawl began.
Ezio followed suit, swaggering up to some rugged-looking fellow and began wailing on him. The two parried, and others started in on the opposing side.
Throwing a right hook, Ezio sent one prisoner spiraling backwards as another took his place, delivering a blow to the eagle's jaw. Staggering backwards, Ezio lunged at another man, taking him out while he could. He then countered other attacks, ending their owners.
At all times to occur, Ezio's side sent shockwaves of pain throughout his body, causing him to double over in agony. He felt a swift kick hit him from behind, and he swept the man's feet from under him, hearing a loud thud from the man hitting the floor with great speed.
Springing back up, Ezio winced as his side ached, but he managed to lessen the pain by merely knocking two skulls together, sending the men down to the floor.
The mob that had attacked the Florentine had all been dispatched, and he glanced at his descendant, who was taking care of the last three prisoners who dared to face him or the Italian. Sending the three to their defeat, Connor merely gave Ezio a sideways glance as he motioned towards a group of guards, bearing arms.
"Hey!" a guard bellowed at the two troublemakers. "You think it's fun to cause a fracas? You think it's fun to be delinquents?" He gestured to them. "Men, take these lobcocks to their new cells in the pit."
The guards wrangled the two Assassins and escorted them to their individual cells that resided at the very bottom level of the prison. Coincidently, their cells were just across the small hallway from one another.
It seemed as if God had a plan for the Assassins.
Ezio was thrown into his cell, and he heard the door slam behind him. Rising on his feet as the guards shuffled passed the door, he glanced at the cell across the hall. He arched his brow as Connor began to wave his hands and motion odd signals at him. He gave the Native a shrug of the shoulders and contorted his face into one of confusion, mouthing questions of just what the hell he was doing.
Connor rolled his eyes with an irritated attitude about him. He pointed at Ezio and then motioned towards the door.
Ezio… door?
"Ma che cazzo?" the Florentine eagle mouthed, utterly confused.
And before Connor could further explain, a large and burly Redcoat seemed to decide unknowingly that he was to stand in front of Ezio's cell, blocking all visual scenery towards Connor.
Ezio scowled, throwing daggers from his eyes at the figlio d'un cane's back.
And suddenly it struck him in the ribs. Well, not in the literal ribs, more like the ribs in the brain.
He needed to sneak behind the guard and swap out keys.
Tiptoeing towards his cell door, Ezio pulled out the replica. He reached for the burly man's key ring, attempting to slide the Golden Ticket from it. The man shifted, causing Ezio to panic. He froze in place, allowing the man to relax and began to slide the key from the ring in a fluid motion. Dropping the real key down his collar, where from there it immediately fell to the crease where the bottom hem of the shirt was tucked into his cropped pants, he replaced the key with the fake and slowly backed away from the door as if never there.
Letting an inaudible sigh of relief, Ezio quickly sat on the so-called bed and feigned innocence. He lounged there until the guard left the cell door. He bolted to his feet, staring into Connor's cell, where the Native was nowhere to be found.
"Merda!" he hissed under his breath, fumbling the lock open with the key. He kept a lookout for passing guards as he placed his hands on the bars of Connor's cell, which creaked open and revealed an empty space.
Where did he go? There was no way for him to escape from his cell in that amount of time; Ezio was sure of it!
Peering into the empty cell, Ezio scratched his head, completely astounded. He didn't know how in the world his descendant was capable of pulling off such a feat, but he definitely needed to learn how to do that for himself.
"If you peer into that cell any longer, we will not have the time to escape," a voice warned behind Ezio, causing him to jump in surprise.
He turned, seeing his descendant directly behind him.
The Native shook his head in disappointment. "And you are a Master Assassin? Times in Italy must have been extremely primitive."
Ezio cut his eyes at the other man. "How did you do that?"
Connor merely blinked. "However do you mean? I simply switched out keys the while I was being escorted and escaped while you were slipping your key from the guard in front of your cell."
Ezio knitted his brow in confusion. "But he was staring straight into your cell!"
Smirking, the Native shook his head as he led Ezio down the hall. "He was nodding off."
The two tucked themselves into the corner of the hall once a guard appeared no more than twenty feet in front of them. Once the guard passed, Connor simply twisted the guard's neck, killing him instantly.
"What are you doing?" Ezio hissed.
Connor didn't reply as he quickly undressed the Redcoat and swapped clothing with the dead man. He grabbed the musket from the guard's hands and pointed it at Ezio. "Get moving, filthbag," he growled in a mock-British accent.
Instantly understanding, Ezio raised his hands eye-level. The eagle began slowly walking, being prodded forward from the blade at the end of Connor's gun, which added authenticity when unsuspecting guards passed the duo.
They walked up a flight of stairs and rounded a corner, where a group of guards was stationed.
"Where d'ya think yer goin'?" a Redcoat sneered, shifting his gaze from Connor to Ezio. "He goin' somewhere?"
Connor gave a firm nod. "The gallows."
The guard arched a brow. "Tha gallows? Ain't the executions tamarrah?"
Connor shook his head. "Not this bastard's. I have been ordered to personally escort him. By orders from the warden."
Ezio's forehead broke out into a thin sheen of sweat. Connor had better know what he was doing, otherwise…
He'd end up just like his father and brothers.
"'By orders from tha warden?'" the guard repeated in disbelief. "D'ya hear this lobcock? Tha warden ordered 'im to escort this bastard to tha gallows!" the guard sneered as his fellow Redcoats mocked them. He jeered with his fellow guards, mocking the duo. Suddenly, he reclaimed his composure. "I don't think so. Take 'im back to 'is cell."
Connor worked an irritated tic in his jaw and stood his ground. "I have been given specific orders to escort him to the gallows. I am doing as commanded whether or not you accept."
The guard barked a laugh. "Wot? Yer doin' as commanded? I don't think I've 'eard anythin' so precious! Ya 'ear that, boys? The man's doin' as 'e's told!"
Connor prodded Ezio with his gun, his brows furrowed. "If you men would like to join this prisoner to the gallows, I can arrange it."
The guards merely laughed mockingly.
It was then Connor jabbed the leading guard with the butt of his gun and sent him down to the floor.
Ezio dodged as another guard swung his fist towards him. He then threw a right hook at the man, knocking him against a wall.
Connor took out the remaining two guards with the blade of the gun and jabbing the butt in the other's face.
"Run," the Native breathed as he unlocked the gate in front of him.
The two Assassins bolted through the corridors, making sharp turns and taking guards out as they went along. Up a flight of stairs the duo went, knocking a pair of guards to the ground.
Eventually the maze ended with the front door in sight.
The two Assassins threw open the door and bolted into the streets, catching the attention of multiple squadrons of guards. They split into different directions, and Ezio knew at once that he was utterly lost.
He heard the guards behind him, yelling after him. He jumped atop a fence, disappearing only for a moment before the guards rounded the corner, announcing their discovery. He growled in frustration as he saw an open window and climbed his way up, startling the woman who stood inside.
"Mi dispiace," he muttered as he quickly sprinted around a corner and vaulted over a table, exiting the window onto the main street. He knew that he'd lost the guards for the moment as he blended with a small group of conversing people. He waited a few moments before exiting the group, knowing that the guards gave up the search.
He needed to find the other Assassin.
Ezio knew that his descendant would be in Redcoat garb, but he couldn't distinguish one guard from another—not that he ever could in the first place.
A heavy hand slammed onto his shoulder. "You're comin' with me, ya lobcock," a cockney accented voice declared behind him, making him whip his head in that direction.
He glared at the Redcoat-outfitted Assassin. "Bastardo," he muttered as Connor merely smirked at him.
A/N: And there's another chapter written for y'all! :D
I thoroughly enjoy writing Ezio and Connor in the middle of shit they start themselves! I thought that I was never going to be able to write another one that was as amazing as Connor's first time, *wink, wink!* but I think that Ezio escaping from prison is pretty good too! ;) I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I had fun writing it! :)
And I apologize if my fight scenes aren't as good as action movies. I can't write a fight to save my life!
If you have any concerns about my writing, please feel free to drop a review or a PM! It'll encourage me to keep updating as soon as I can! ;D
Oh! One last thing! If you saw caught the Willy Wonka reference BEFORE reading this A/N, I commend you! You deserve a box of Nerds! :D
