anachronismo | (no subject)

(no subject)

Even if Stephanie had access to all the paper in Rome, she didn't think she'd have enough room to write down all that sucked. Bathing sucked. The weather sucked. The clothing sucked. The Borgia family sucked. Lack of deodorant sucked. Lack of modern convenience sucked. Oh, what else? Getting a cut on your arm sucked, because then you worried about stitches and sterilization, and when you're pretty much the most medically advanced person in the history of ever (so far, and maybe that was probably an annoyed exaggeration), that meant you fixed yourself up as best you could, put your shirt back on, and went on with your day. That really sucked.

It was embarrassing, too. She was eager to help, eager to commit to Ezio and the Assassins, but not so eager to kill. The extra care it took to not spill blood (and not make it totally obvious what she was doing) cost her bumps and bruises. And this time, some skin and blood. She wasn't sure if she was more worried about the scar or Ezio noticing--if he hadn't already. She'd lost track of how many chats about killing they'd had, both in Rome and in Paradisa.

For now, she sat herself down at the desk and tried to look busy. She could work on other embarrassing things to distract herself from her "scratch"--like her understanding of local geography. Ugh. Rome was fucking confusing, even after all this time. It didn't make sense to her like Gotham had.

Maybe she'd just invent satellite imaging.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She sat, though with a look of reluctance. It felt like she was about to get lectured by the principal.

"Sitting."

He kneeled down in front of her, one hand on her knee.

"Listen," he said, trying to be both firm and sympathetic at once. "Do you remember what it was like to be teaching me about your time, even when I had been in Paradisa for over a year? What kind of troubles I ran into with people and society because I did not know how to behave amongst another culture? You had a lot of patience for me, and I am trying to show you the same courtesy... but you must trust me when I tell you what the right course of action is."

"I remember." There was no way she'd forget. She thought about those times a lot, missing them. She missed feeling confident and comfortable and knowledgeable.

She put her hand over his.

"It's just difficult. Not the trusting you part, I trust you, but the whole... not belonging, part. At least in Paradisa you had people from your time, or from times like yours. I don't have that, and it really, really sucks sometimes," Stephanie sighed, shaking her head and looking down at their hands. "You remember how restless you felt, right? Not being able to do anything? That's how I feel."

"They could be out there," Ezio reminded her, quietly. "So you need not lose hope on that, yet. But in the mean time, you would fit in better if you did not eschew our culture and customs. If I say you cannot dine with the men, then you should not fuss. If I want you to study as a civilian for a time instead of doing work as an Assassin, then you should study. If I want you to see a dottore, you should go. I am trying to make it easier for you to fit in!"

"So... I just shut up and do as you command. That's my life, now."

She didn't sound thrilled.

"That is not what I said," Ezio replied. "I just would not see you alienate yourself by protesting so vehemently to these things."

She let go of his hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, frustrated. Had he felt like this in Paradisa? Did he feel suffocated? No, probably not, because even with the restlessness he felt, Paradisa was a vacation. There was fun there. Rome? Not so much. Not that she had found, anyway.

A part of her wanted to argue and fight, but the words just weren't forming. So, she just sighed, shaking her head again.

"I'll try."

"Thank you."

He took her hand and kissed it, gently. He was trying not to let the Borgia consume him completely. He still had to care for the people around him.

"I am doing my best to look out for you, Stephanie."

"You're doing a good job, even if I don't always like it," she said, looking at him with a small smile. Upset as she might be, it was hard to be that angry at the man who went out of his way to protect her. He cared, so the least she could do was make an effort to make it easier for him to do that.

"I can't just keep taking, though. I want to do more to help. I know how busy you are, and it feels pretty crappy for you to invest so much time in me and I'm just... studying."

"When you know how to navigate this city with skill, we will put you back on the streets with the others. Until then, the most work I can give you are eavesdropping tasks."

He shook his head.

"And do not worry about me. I take pride in providing for my brotherhood... and it is not as though I cannot afford it. In the long run, all of my investments will pay off."

She could settle for that. Her plan was to learn as quickly as she possibly could--if she was stuck doing it, she'd throw herself into it. She'd know Rome intimately in a week. She'd spend all day on her feet exploring, if she needed.

Stephanie put her hand on his shoulder, leaning over to kiss his cheek in thanks. "They will. You won't have to worry about me, the Borgia will be gone, and Rome will be awesome."

He chuckled under his breath when she leant in to kiss him, and then pulled away to stand up. He still needed to track down one of the girls to stitch up that wound.

"That is the plan. You will make for a fine ally once you get a better handle on how we do things."

"The finest," she nodded, and she honestly didn't doubt that. Fighting was her thing--it was just everything else that she needed to work on.

"Are you going to be around after I get sewn up?"

It was still strange, adjusting to this Ezio. He was sometimes more mentor than friend, and it was a change from their days of just hanging out and doing nothing. There was always something that needed to be done.

"I should be," he replied. "La Volpe and I have work tonight, so I will need to sleep sometime this afternoon... But I will be around to spend time with you. I know that I have been been busy lately..."

"It's alright, as long as you know and feel terrible about it," she joked. "I don't mind you spending time with me and napping at the same time if you don't."

He chuckled.

"Va bene, we can do that. Like old times, hmm?"

"Like old times. So go find me someone to close this gash because I can feel the blood seeping out. I'm leaking." She was much more willing to admit that it wasn't just a scratch when the tone was lighter, like this.

"I can find you once we're done, unless you want to stick around to hear me swear."

"I will wait. Don't go anywhere, and I will fetch Bianca or one of the maids."

Bianca could sew, he knew. She'd stitched him up once before, and had done an alright job of it.

"Alrighty."

She she smiled, even though she didn't really want him to stick around for her squirming and hissing. Embarrassing.

Bianca was there shortly, ready to fuss over Stephanie in that maternal way, despite being younger than Steph herself.

The surgical needle was silver –– an extremely precious item to own, one usually kept locked away in a box in one of the desks. Most doctors in the city still used pieces of bronze wire at that time, and no one sterilized any of their tools... except, of course, the Brotherhood. There were perks to having a Maestro who had done a bit of time-travelling and knew a few things about germs. (Germs, of course, did not "exist" in Rome in this time. There were only miasmas.) The needle was sterilized over a candle until it glowed, and when it was still warm to the touch, Bianca threaded it with catgut. Then she reached for a bottle of clear liquid, and dampened a linen cloth with it.

Ezio offered his hand to Stephanie for support as Bianca reached for her arm with the linen.

"This is going to sting," Bianca warned.

"But only for a moment," Ezio added, trying to be reassuring. Poor baby.

Stephanie watched Bianca like a hawk as she sterilized the needle. Really, the last thing she needed here was to lose an arm to infection--being a woman was bad enough, but a woman missing a limb? Or maybe she'd just die. Did people survive amputations here? She didn't want to find out.

Wow, that was a grim line of thought for getting stitched up. By the time she pulled herself out of her thoughts, the needle was ready.

As easy as it would be to sass Ezio, because please, she'd had stitches done by a crazy man who didn't take half the care Bianca would, she knew it'd still be unpleasant.

"We tell no one about the sounds I'm about to make. Deal? Good."

She gripped Ezio's hand.

"We could give you a rope to bite on, if you think you will accidentally use your tongue," he said, fingers closing over hers. "Or we could get you drunk, first."

"No, I'm good," she replied with a smile. "Let's just get this over with."

The sooner Bianca and Ezio stopped fretting over her, the better.

So Bianca started stitching, slowly pulling the edges of the wound together.

Ezio wondered if he should ever tell her what catgut was made of, but decided not to.

Her hold on Ezio's hand tightened immediately as she let a breath out between grit teeth. Okay, that was a little more painful than she remembered.

"Ow. Ow ow ow."