Chapter Text
This Stupid Vessel
(that title is still the best thing in the WORLD to me)
Storyline: Desmond uses the Eye of Eden and is transported to the Italian Renaissance. He meets Leonardo in a scuffle between him and the guards, Leo vouches for him. Desmond introduces himself as Dominico (he doesn’t use Desmond bc it might screw something up), and babam Ezio shows up and is like “amico mio!” and Leo’s like “bro!! hey, uh,,,, ᵗʰᶦˢ ʸᵒ ᵏᶦᵈˀˀ” and ezio’s like “no. i am. now in denial.” and leo’s like “but consider: he looks just like you” and ezio’s like “well i mean yeah i’ll keep it in mind ig” meanwhile desmond’s thinking to himself “what if i stole his cash lol” then ezio’s like “hey there kid” and now desmond wants to leave even more than he did before and Leonardo The Homie™ is like “well y’all can come inside i was just going out for paint i can do it later” so they go inside
leo gives des some food and des, a street rat (well more like a mouse but), was like “om nom nom nom nom nom n” and ezio, who probably burns more calories than i eat in a day, is like “om nom nom nom nom nom n” and leo’s sitting there eating all regular n shit and then ezio’s like “oh yeah i have a codex page for you” aaaaaand cue leo COMPLETELY forgetting food bc OBVIOUSLY this is way better than nutrition am i right fellas??? Anyways leo notices des/dom perk up at codex pages and sorta invites him to watch and maybe even learn something abt decoding cool stuff. why? bc he’s Leonardo The Homie™ are you stupid.
…..That was what i originally had in mind now here’s my new and improved version because why is this moving so quickly damn it
so; Storyline - The Better Thing, picking up when leo introduces ezio to des/dom: leo is like “dom, ezio. ezio, dom.” and they’re both like “hi.” and thats it bc leo and ezio begin to whisper shit that des cant hear and he just zones out and thinks “what if i stole his cash lol” and he’s debating whether or not he could do it and inevitably decides not to bc leonardo was already gonna give him some coin right?? anyways leo and ezio quit talking and ezio leaves, leo gives him the coins and directs him to an inn (not a brothel, bc leo thinks he’s too young for that. who sends a kid to a brothel?? a sicko, that’s who) but des decides to steal from more ppl so he could get bread AND a dagger. this is the RENAISSANCE, bro. survival of the fittest and/or cleanest. almost gets caught, too, but scurries off just in time bc “never again.” and to be fair? never again. N E V E R. again. since he doesnt have any more money for an inn, he takes his chances and sleeps in a street. HAHAHA YOU JOKE YOU ACTUALLY THOUGHT HE WOULD DO THAT????? no,,,, he sleeps in one of those funky little rooftop gardens (they exist irl!!!)
Desmond wakes with the sun. like how funky fresh is that line????? thx i made that line myself.
Summary: Desmond didn’t know what to expect after touching the Eye of Eden, but it certainly wasn’t this.
Chapter 1: Street Rat
B-Note: Hey!! This is my first work on AO3 and in this fandom, so please be nice! I don’t know how long I can go before forgetting/losing interest in this fic, but I’ll try to keep writing nonetheless. Thank you!
Assassin’s Creed, nor its characters, belong to me. The story would be tragically screwed if it did, so perhaps it is for the best that I don’t get my hands on the ability to make my ideas canon.
—
He didn’t know what to expect when he touched the eye. Other than he would die.
He certainly didn’t expect the amount of pain involved in the whole ordeal. It felt like thousands of fire ants crawling and biting his arm, or like somebody poured 15 gallons of boiling water and it trickled down, or like he stuck his hand into a pit of flames and didn’t bother to take it out even as the flesh burned and fell off his skin, exposing bone. How could you ever expect that?
Even in the excruciating pain, when he fell, there was a sort of calm silence. An empty feeling, but not quite. It was like a missing puzzle piece fell into place, but the puzzle in its entirety looked unfinished. He felt wholly incomplete.
However, this unsettling calm was only for a moment, as he felt his very being painfully shrink into that of something… small.
Oh hell no. I do not want to relive birth again.
He looked at his small hands as he came to, mentally sighing with relief. No rebirth for Desmond.
But what wasn’t a good thing was that Desmond didn’t know where he was. all he knew was that he was now a small child in… peasant clothing, by the looks of it.
He stood up, observing his surroundings. He was in a dark alleyway, the scent of defecation and rot hanging in the air. The architecture would lead him to believe that he was back in Venice, but for him to be there would mean that…
Either the Bleeding Effect persists in death, or the Eye took him here. But how is that possible? Juno said they tried to go back in time, but it never worked. Isu bullshit, Desmond supposed. It was a thought for a later time.
Desmond tried climbing up a building, hoping to get a better understanding of where he was. As he grasped for a ledge, a guard caught sight and pulled him down from the windowsill he just managed to reach the top of.
“Ehi! Where is your mother, little rascal?” a heavyset guard asked as he let Desmond fall to the ground on his back.
“You really think he still has a mother? Probably just another orphan. Let’s go, street rats are not worth the time.” another guard, this one in lighter armor, pulled him away and back to their rounds. Desmond waited until they turned the corner before scaling the wall.
Desmond took in the beautiful sight. This was definitely Venezia, he knew without a doubt. There wasn’t much time to dwell on that, because he was quickly spotted by an archer on a nearby roof. He knew better than to pick a fight when he had no weapon, so he maneuvered his way back to street-level level.
What was he to do now? Sure he knew he was in Venezia, but he knew nothing else. And he is just a child! He can’t live off of nothing. What year was it?
Desmond wandered around for a while before stumbling upon a marketplace. People were chatting as they walked, and their purses heavy with the intent to be spent. Unfortunately for them, they would not be doing the spending.
As a child, Desmond’s mother taught him that stealing is something that should only be done if it’s necessary. She would tell him not to get caught up in thievery, as it would only get you so far. Desmond thought that this qualified as necessary.
Why must they be so animated? You don’t need to accentuate every single goddamn word with the flail of a hand.
“Hey! Stop! Thief!” a lady cried, pointing at him as he tried to move the crowd but was hindered by his height (or lack thereof). Guards came rushing over, determined to stop the criminal, and Desmond started running, even though he knew his tiny child legs would only get him so far.
“Get back here!”
“No!” Desmond shouted, looking behind him. This would be the moment where his father shouted at him for making such a novice mistake, and while it would be irritating to hear, he wasn’t wrong. Desmond ran into someone stepping out of a building, and the guards caught up to him. He hid behind the person he hit, and prayed that they wouldn’t rat him out.
“Messere! Do you know this boy?”
The man in question looked at Desmond, and he could see the wheels turning in his head. It was with only a second’s hesitation that he sighed a response, “Yes… what has he done now?”
“He stole a lady’s purse.”
“Is that so? Hmm, little one?” Desmond looked down in fake shame and nodded. Man, this was going way smoother than he could have ever hoped for.
“I’m sorry for whatever trouble he caused. Why don’t you give it back?” Aaaaaand there goes food for the evening. He handed a purse with the least amount of money in it and hoped they would get off his back. The guards were none the wiser as they took the money and went to find its owner.
Even though he tried to speed away from the scene as quick as he could, the man caught his shoulder before he even took a step. “Where are your parents?”
“Gone.”
The man examined him, and that’s when Desmond looked at him in the face.
Is that…Leonardo da Vinci? My luck knows no bounds.
“Do you have a name?”
Desmond hesitated, “Dominico.” He hoped that sated Leonardo’s curiosity for now.
“Dominico? What a lovely name,” Leonardo pulled out his purse, and handed him coins. “Here, little one. You can get something to eat with th-”
“Leonardo! My friend.”
Desmond could recognize that voice from anywhere.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
E-Note: Just as always, I have lost my sense of direction. I don’t have a clue where this is going. If you’re reading this, congrats! You’re just as clueless as I am!
Chapter 2: Kleptes
B-Note: Hola, bitches. I’m supposed to be doing my overdue homework but I’m writing this instead. my constant need for instant gratification isn’t role-model behavior. don’t copy me, kids.
I have shifted time to where Ezio is a bit speedier in his tracking and killing, and Cesare holds off a little on attacking Monteriggioni. Basically, i moved the timeline up, so ezio’s a little younger (i thought that he as a 40-yo would be WAY too mature (like, as a person. he really did grow over the course of the game) for my purposes. he’s gonna be a bit ~reckless~ in this fic :)
Assassin’s Creed, in its entirety, does not belong to me. For everyone’s sake, it’s better this way.
--
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Ezio! What a surprise,” the two hugged and Desmond wanted to melt into the fucking ground. A surprise in- fucking -deed.
“Who might this be? Certainly you haven’t become a father since the last time I’ve seen you,” Ezio looked at Desmond, and he hoped he wouldn’t notice that he was a carbon copy of him.
“Of course not! This is Dominico, I helped him out of a… scuffle with a few guards,” Leonardo then went into a whisper that Desmond could barely hear, [this is where the two plots split] but he couldn’t be bothered to try and eavesdrop. Instead, he took the time to examine Ezio.
Armed to the teeth, of course. He has Altair’s armor and sword too. Hmm. Wonder how much he has in his coin purse. I mean, I wouldn’t get far… but what if I yoinked it anyways? How far can I go before my little legs give out? How far would I get before he noticed ? Probably not far .
“Well my friend, I must be on my way-”
“We’ll talk more about this later, for sure.”
Ezio looked a bit miffed, but replied nonetheless, “Goodbye Leonardo, Dominico.”
As Ezio walked away, Desmond could only wonder what they were talking about and regretted not eavesdropping. Just a little.
If Ezio had to expect when he came around the corner, it certainly wouldn’t be this.
All those years ago, when his mother scolded him to have outlets “ besides vaginas, ” she certainly wasn’t wrong. Perhaps if he had heeded her words, he wouldn’t have to deal with the situation at hand. If only he could go back in time and change his mistakes.
But what’s done is done.
“Leonardo! My friend.”
“Ezio! What a surprise,” he hugged Leonardo and let a smile come onto his face.
“Who might this be? Certainly you haven’t become a father since the last time I’ve seen you,” he turned to look at the boy.
“Of course not! This is Dominico. I helped him out of a… scuffle with a few guards,” Leonardo dropped into a whisper, a tone that sent shivers down his spine, “perhaps they thought he looked familiar.”
What he was implying was obvious; Dominico bears a striking resemblance to himself. A resemblance that’s so exact, down to even the most minute of details, there could only be one possible explanation.
“What are you implying?”
“Ezio, he looks just like you.”
“Perhaps it is merely a coincidence? ”
“You and I both know that the chances of it being ‘a coincidence’ are extremely small, my friend.”
“Nothing is true-”
“And everything is permitted. The possibility of Dominico being your child is something to keep in mind.”
Ezio inhaled sharply at that, because he knew it was the truth.
“Well my friend, I must be on my way-”
“We’ll talk more about this later, for sure.”
Ezio looked a bit miffed, but replied nonetheless, “Goodbye Leonardo, Dominico.”
The assassin walked away, looking for a window to climb up. And as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, Ezio could only wonder who the child’s mother was, and regretted walking away so quickly. Just a little.
Leonardo handed Desmond the coins, referring the boy to an inn. However, Desmond had no plan to go to an inn. They’d ask too many questions.
So, obviously, he turns back to thievery, even though it’s what got him into that mess in the first place. He needs to eat, and if he spends all his money on an inn, he’ll be sheltered and kinda safe, but he’ll be starving.
After he snatched a few heavy coin purses, he realized that this wasn’t going anywhere. He only had around 200 florins, and while he could buy a few loaves of bread with that, Desmond wasn’t going to stop there. If he wanted to skip that inn, he would either have to sleep in the streets or on the roofs. Places you don’t want to be at night, with guards and drunks and whatnot.
Then, like a miracle, he spotted it; there were guards standing in the doorway of a room with chests in it.
Easy cash? Or, uh, coin? Don’t mind if I do.
He walked towards the door, only to be kicked away by one of the assholes guarding the treasure.
I really don’t know what I was expecting, but the ribs, man? What a bastard.
Desmond sat down on the bench, rubbing his chest in pain. Ow. The sound of people chatting, courtesans laughing, and armor clunking around. He considers hiring courtesans, but doubts they’ll take him seriously. Besides, they would definitely remember a small child asking to distract guards.
The - boy? Or is it man? - gets up, taking out a few florins and throwing them on the ground. The townsfolk take immediate notice, as do the guards, and he slips into the room unnoticed.
The chests each had a few hundred florins each, which Desmond gratefully pocketed.
Unfortunately, the guards had stepped back into place. There were two ways to go about this: make a mad dash, or try to sneak out. The latter most likely wouldn’t work, but was worth a shot either way.
Desmond squeezed through a spot, only to trip on a metal boot cover and tumble on the floor.
Not this again…
“You! Thief! Get back here so I can cut off your hands!”
Desmond climbed as fast as his body would permit, and hid in the nearest rooftop garden. He was waiting for the guards to give up their search when the cloth was moved and someone jumped in.
“Dominico? What are you doing-”
“Shh! There are guards looking for you. And me. So shush.”
Surprisingly, Ezio did remain quiet. There was an awkward silence as the two hoped the other wouldn’t initiate conversation.
“Do you think they’re gone?”
“What was that?”
Shit.
Ezio looked in the direction of the voice, ready to strike on a moment’s notice. When the guard got close enough, the assassin shot out and grabbed his neck, methodically dragging the body inside. The guard’s blood dampened the soil of the garden, and colored some of the petals and leaves a dark crimson.
“I call dibs on his loot,” Desmond immediately started rummaging through pockets and pouches, leaving the man beside him stunned.
This child just saw me kill a man, and goes to dig in his pockets?
“Thanks for the stuff. And saving my life too, I guess,” Desmond smiled and leapt out the garden.
Ezio left the hiding spot soon after and dropped onto the street, scaring a few passersby.
Oh god, I have a son- wait, where are my florins?
E-Note: blah blah blah I’m just using this as a buffer
Ch 3: Larcin
B-Note: if you’re mad at me i don’t blame you lmao. I just dropped off the face of the earth??? in case you are wondering why: 1) my history class. so,,,, much,,, notes,,,, and 2) i lost motivation. I love this book and i love yall, but it was so hard to sit down and come up with something. its been months and i just ghosted around for a bit, but i think i’m back!!!!!!
also holy SHIT yall are hilarious. I read the comments and i’m just. Cackling in my room
the chapter is shorter than usual (i just needed to get something out there,,,,,,,, fill the void,,,,,,,,) but i hope yall enjoy it!!!!!
Wow, that worked?
Desmond was sitting on a bench in an alleyway, counting his ill-gotten gains. Most purses had at minimum four florins and at max twenty. But Ezio’s? He had around 3000 florins in his. Three thousand. And that’s probably just the tip of the iceberg.
I can actually get something nice with this. Thank you for the kind donation, Ezio.
He walked over to a blacksmith, struggling to see over the counter. Luckily, someone working saw the top of his head and peered over the ledge.
“Go home, little boy. This is no shop for you.”
“I wanted to get something for my father, you see. I have the money!”
The blacksmith stared him down with a stern glare, “And how much would that be?”
“Enough to buy your wares.”
There was a moment of tense silence where Desmond hoped he wouldn’t have to go elsewhere, before the man behind the counter burst out laughing, “you’re something, kid. What can I get you?”
Desmond walked away with his pockets lighter and his hand curled around a stiletto knife.
Claudia would either be laughing at me or looking for a place to hide my body. Probably both.
Ezio dragged a gloved hand over his face. While he had much more than what he lost, the pouch was meant for some of the renovation funds for Monteriggioni’s brothel, and NOT whatever that miscreant of a boy was using the florins for. Three thousand florins, lost to a damn child. Only a true Auditore has the audacity to do something like that, he supposed.
Maybe if I search the rooftops I may find the tiny bastard. I cannot believe I actually let this happen.
Using his gift, he found the child not far from where they went their separate ways.
“Ehi! You!” The child turned around, and he and the assassin locked eyes.
He has my eyes.
And in a second, he was chasing after the thief who was his son.
Why the hell is he running so fast?! Who gave him permission to do that, huh?
Desmond cursed under his breath as he clambered up the conveniently placed boxes and crates. His fingers burned when he swung on the pole, but that was the least of his issues. He needed to get away from a guy that wants his money back. Coincidentally, it’s the same guy he’d been trying to avoid. Yippee.
Oh, how he wished he had longer legs and stronger lungs, at least he then would stand a chance. It was pure luck that he had been brought here as a child whose body had been as conditioned as one could be without it being unhealthy. But that’s about where the luck ended. If he were lucky, Ezio would have let the loss go. He probably had more than enough money. But no. No. He just had to pick today to be the day to chase after the pickpocket.
Doesn’t he have anything better to do? Go race someone, complete a contract, beat someone up? Anything?
Since tackling a child on the rooftop probably wasn’t the best idea, Ezio simply grabbed Desmond by the back of his collar and held him up to his height. He looked at the dangling child.
“Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“The florins.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You stole my money.”
“Did I? I don’t recall doing so.”
“In the garden on the roof.”
“What- wait, that's what those are? I always wondered what those were.”
“What? Just give me back what you stole.”
“No can do, sir.”
“Well, why not?”
“What do you think a kid is going to do with money? It’s been spent.”
“So you did steal it.”
“Steal is such a strong word. I prefer borrowing. It will be returned… at a later date.”
Ezio sighed, his grip unrelenting, “Take me to the merchant.”
“Now why would I want to do that? I’m perfectly fine with what I bought, I see no need to return it.”
“I’m going to get my florins back. Give me what you bought.”
“No. It’s useful. Just get some more florins, for fuck’s sake.”
“You stole, now you face the consequences. Hand it.”
Desmond looked him dead in the eyes, and Ezio was reminded of their striking similarities.
“No. I’m not giving it to you. Maybe you should guard your pockets better.”
“Sorry. It won’t happen again,” Ezio pocketed the money, putting it on the side Dominico wasn’t (he learned his lesson, thank you very much).
“What did you learn, “Dominico?”
“Stealing from you probably wasn’t the best idea. I’d give it a few years before trying it again.”
“...It is a better lesson than nothing, I suppose.”
E-Note: me writing this instead of doing my hw: sometimes my genius… it surprises me
Chapter 4: Cutpurse
B-Note: i should probably let you know that i need to replay ac2 and that i can’t remember the timeline i set so uhhhhhhh yeah
Desmond sat miserably in an alleyway, soaked to the bone after falling into a river.
It’s so fucking cold…! Stupid river, stupid guards, stupid wind, it’s all so... fucking... stupid!
Maybe life wanted to make a point that he couldn’t keep stealing from people forever, and decided that hey, maybe one of those rocks the guards keep throwing should actually land . What else was he supposed to do? He’d rather get hit with rocks and fall into rivers if it meant not having to beg on the streets. Besides, what good does that do anyways?
Even though he’s still dripping, Desmond goes to the marketplace. You’d be surprised how oblivious people are these days.
Leonardo sat in his workshop, contemplating the paint colors.
It still seems too cold…! Bah.
Maybe this was God’s way of telling him to take a break, he couldn’t keep mixing more and more paint forever. Some of the paint on the sides of the palette had crusted up, and he sighed. He needed to finish this commission, for the sake of his bills being paid. However, he was almost out of paint, and definitely needed a restock.
He decides to go to the marketplace. It would be a quick thing, he told himself.
It was, in fact, not a quick thing.
A boy (who looked like he walked out from a lake) stole a coin purse from a lady near him and almost got caught after he tripped on another lady’s skirt. The only reason he didn’t was because Leonardo had grabbed his wrist and pulled him beside himself. He was about to scold him, but...
“Dominico?”
“We meet again, it seems. And no, I will not give it back. Not my fault she wasn’t paying attention to her money.”
Leonardo blinked. Dominico snickered at the expression.
“Well, at least tell me why you are wet.”
“Simple. A guard threw a rock at my hand while I was climbing and I fell. Into water.”
“Well, you must be cold.”
“Very. This puny body is betraying me. Weak hands, small lungs, chattering teeth, it’s all so inconvenient...”
This raised a lot of questions (why wouldn’t it?) but the man persisted nonetheless.
“Come here, you’ll become ill if you stay in those clothes,” he led him to his workshop (luckily only a short walk) and sat him in front of the fire, “I’ll be working if you need me.”
It only took a few minutes before someone knocked at the door. They invited themselves in (how rude).
“Leonardo!”
Oh no, it’s the Voice of Imminent Doom.
“Ezio, my friend! What do you need?”
He handed him a scroll.
“Ah, another one! How exciting!” he brushed some of the things on his desk out of the way to make room for it, “Hmm, I see… I’ll be done soon, my friend. Have a seat wherever.”
Ezio turned to sit in a chair near Desmond, “you.”
“Me!”
Ezio glared at the boy, and moved his coin pouch to the other side of his belt before taking a seat. Desmond held in a laugh.
“What brings you here, sir?”
“Business that doesn’t concern you.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Then beg.”
“Ouch. I suppose you don’t have a need for this, then?” He pulled out a Codex page. The guards weren’t too happy when he took it, but it didn’t matter. The page itself held no damage (miraculously) and was completely dry.
“Where did you get that.”
“Same place you did, probably; in a room with a few guards keeping watch. Gave me a hassle about it, too. Seemed awfully protective over a piece of paper, don’t you think? Almost as if it contained extremely… valuable information. I read a little bit of it. Of course, it was encoded, I don’t really know what I expected. But the drawing was nice to look at.”
Ezio eyed him suspiciously. Desmond felt obligated to give him even more reason to look at him like that.
“That and the glowing stuff on the back was pretty interesting.”
The look on Ezio’s face… Desmond wished cameras existed.
“What do you mean, glowing stuff?”
“See for yourself.”
He handed the man the Codex page, who immediately turned it over.
Oh… that’s what Eagle Vision looks like to everyone else.
Ezio’s eyes were amber. And they were glowing. Like, actually glowing. He’d never seen anything like it. Then again, he hadn’t met anyone who had Eagle Vision, had he?
Damn. I had to have looked badass. Or creepy. Imagine seeing me just staring at you from across the room with that. Like a cat. Or a racoon.
“When you look at Leonardo, what do you see?”
I glanced at him. He was still working, and looked quite happy.
“I see Leonardo.”
“Quit being like that, what do you see?”
Desmond looked at Leonardo again, this time with Eagle Vision (he had to squint, the blue was so blinding) then looked to Ezio (no reprieve from the brightness).
“Ow, my eyes… don’t make me do that again. That hurt.”
“...Is that what my eyes look like when I do that?”
Leonardo came up from his work, “here, my friend.”
“Thank you, Leonardo. I think Dominico meant to give you this as well. I’ll come by when I have another page.”
“Hmm? Oh! He also found one? Interesting. Well, goodbye, my friend.”
“I’ll see you soon, Leonardo,” he left through the door, gently closing it. Leonardo’s gaze lingered on the door.
“The codex has a picture. Of some sort of armor design, I think.”
“Does it? Fascinating!”
OR: LA VOLPE :000000 where he sees desmond snatchin shit on the streets and he’s like “hey this kid aint half bad” and almost gets stolen from (it’s improbable that des would actually be able to steal from La Volpe, i mean, come on now) and looks this fool dead in the face and gets Dezio’d and is all like “ayo wtf why this kid look like that other kid ??”
Almost there… almost…!
Desmond finally undid the double knot holding a purse to its belt.
Seriously, who double knots a coin purse? People who are against sharing the wealth, that’s who.
He took the purse and moved along down an alleyway, careful not to bump into anyone.
“Where- where did my purse go?! Guards! Guards!”
The guards wouldn’t find anyone, of course. Though stuck in an inconveniently small body, Desmond still knew how to move like an assassin.
Climbing up to the rooftop wasn’t as easy as it should be, something Desmond won’t stop being salty about. Why are all the walls’ grip spots so far apart? It’s manageable, of course, but it doesn’t mean it’s not extremely bothersome, especially when guards are throwing rocks at your hands. Luckily they aren’t now, but still!
NOTES & IDEAS (FROM READERS :0000 )
- Andy (Ch.3) - “it would be so funny if Desmond finds out Ezio thinks he’s his kid and just rolls with and trolls the hell out of him”
- Oni_kitsune (Ch.2) - “...Lol, I now have this image of Ezio, La Volpe, and Desmond having a three way game of hide and seek. Hey if you can't outrun them then make sure they never have a chance to give chase.”
- FenrirFree (Ch.1) - Dominico/Damiano (my response… eh, it kinda was just “oh i need a name starting with d” and so dominico was born!!) - have ezio and leo and literally everyone until Dezzy Wezzy reveal is like “wtf kinda name is dominico ezio why’d u name ur kid dominico you asshole” and ezio’s like “i didn’t do it HE did”
CHAPTER TWO FIRST DRAFT LOL: Leonardo realized how awkward this was getting for both parties and invited them both inside. As usual, it was a little cluttered with all sorts of charcoal sketches and designs, some of which lay on the floor, sad and forgotten. Ezio let Desmond walk through the door, before closing it behind himself. He pulled out a Codex Page and Leonardo almost forgot to put the bread he had for them on the table instead of dropping it on the floor.
“Another one! Thank you, my friend,” he immediately opened the scroll, and Desmond tried to look at the scroll as well, but he was just too short to reach the table. The blonde-haired man grabbed the page and sat on the floor, motioning Desmond over.
“You see this? Every other character is moved over here…” Even though the chances of him knowing how to read and write were so extraordinarily slim, Leonardo still walked him through the decoding process, even letting him practice here and there. He brought Desmond a sheet of paper to let him practice.
Desmond quickly gave up on trying to decoding on his sheet of paper, as his 3-year-old self is apparently only capable of producing chicken scratch. He looked over at Leonardo, who moved on from decoding to transcribing.
“That’s wrong,” Those simple two words pulled the man out of his trance to look at the boy, “that means eagle, not hawk.”
Leonardo glanced back and forth, from paper to person, before smiling and crossing out the mistake, “to know both languages, you must be a very bright child, Dominico.”
Desmond hummed in response. It is strange, now that he thinks about it, that he still knows Arabic and Italian, among other languages. How did he retain all that?
A mix of Isu and Animus bullshit, he supposed. It was another thought for a later time.