Characters: Ezio Auditore, open!
Location: The courtyard.
Time: Early afternoon.
Content: Ezio's first act as a new student is to attempt to scale the observation tower. Feel free to gawk and/or yell at him.
Format: Third.
Warnings: Gratuitous Italian?
(
It's the tower's fault for being so tall and tempting, really. )
Idly, he glanced up, his attention quickly drawn to the boy climbing the tower. What the hell was he doing? Wandering over, the Italian stood at the base of the structure, still watching him.
"What the hell are you doing?"
With his mutation it was nothing to get his voice to the other boy, loud enough so Ezio would hear it, but not overly loud. Just in case. Stupid old buildings.
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Ezio smiled. It was nice to hear his native tongue in this foreign place, especially from a stranger. "Si, si! Di dove sei?" He probably should have descended to hold a conversation, but he was already halfway there.
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Ezio had no idea how good it felt to be speaking Italian to someone who wasn't his idiot brother. "Vicino a Roma," he called back, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oi, sceso già, idiota, questo fa male il collo."
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Ezio ran up the tower wall and grabbed the top of one of the window frames. From there, he skillfully maneuvered his grip up to the edge of the roof and pulled himself up. He couldn't reach the peak of the rounded roof, so the view from the edge would have to do. There he perched, satisfied, and took a look at the grounds from his new vantage point.
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"You should join me, amico," he called half-jokingly to the boy on the ground. "The view from here is incredible!"
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Besides, he had already been dragged all over this stupid place, thanks to Feli. And he couldn't see the big deal. Their house in Rome was much nicer.
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Maybe he was too out of practice for showing off, though. His hand slipped as he dropped to hang off of the lowest tier of the roof and he fell. Fortunately, Ezio was as good at falling as he was at climbing. He reacted immediately and hit the ground like a pro, rolling and distributing his weight in just the right way. He sprung to his feet, a little winded and maybe a little bruised, but otherwise no worse for the wear.
"Scusi," he said to the other boy, a little embarrassed.
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Fell. Shit. As soon as Ezio slips, Lovino starts, crying out sharply before running over to where the other Italian landed. Even if he did prove to be okay, standing back up. Idiota. See, he had been right.
"Idiota" is his own response, Lovino far too busy getting his heart to calm down.
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