“I know a place,” Leo said nodding thinking he had a better understanding of what Ezio wanted than what he knew how to properly express. Five years or not in a strange country with formal training on top of it Leo knew that it was never easy to learn a different language and there was no way you could know all the words a native speaker would.
That’s what found them at a special boutique a bit later. It was a chic shop actually and full of teenagers who lived off their parents’ money and rode around on mopeds. The clothing here was expensive but extremely good quality and made from old world fabrics from over a century ago. The fabric was rather corse sometimes but it seemed to be what Ezio had meant. The workers and patrons alike also stared at Ezio unlike the people in the department store. It was out of the corner of their eyes though and never obvious. He knew Ezio was aware of it but preferred to ignore it as he looked through the clothing. This time he seemed pleased by it.
Of course Ezio had little concept of cash, he even confessed as much but Leo told him not to worry about it. Antonio had told him very clearly that whatever Leo had to buy for them he’d pay back in full once he was in possession of Des’ portrait. Leo couldn’t even imagine having that much money to do that, sure he wasn’t poor, and could afford sometimes insanely priced items, but to promise that, he couldn’t image it. It still felt almost painful to hand over the cash to pay for the clothes though once Ezio had finished finding what he and his brothers’ needed. He could have just bought a pet with how much the clothes cost for one of them and Leo didn’t know how people could afford such a life style.
“Ezio,” Leo said as they were heading back, Ezio was carrying the bags and didn’t seem at all bothered by it even though they weren’t exactly light. Ezio just hummed. “What are you going to do once you’re home?”
Ezio got that thoughtful look on his face before grinning, “Eat.”
“Excuse me?” Leo blinked at him.
“Traditional food,” he explained still mirthful, “It was hard to adjust to the diet you people here eat when we first got here, lots of fat and sugar and grain. We got sick a lot. I’m looking forward to someone cooking me food I grew up on.”
“Like what?”
“I couldn’t even tell you, it’s been a long time,” Ezio frowned though didn’t exactly look upset.
“Okay, well besides eating,” he pressed as they stopped at Leo’s car and he unlocked the doors and trunk, which Ezio threw the bags into.
Ezio didn’t respond till he was sitting, “Finish my training,” he said settling back. “I was on the fast track when I left, like my brothers, but now,” he sighed, “So much ground to make up. Altair too.”
“I thought he was a full warrior already,” Leo prodded and pulled out into the early afternoon traffic.
“He is. But—
“But?” Leo prompted.
Ezio stared out the window at first, looking distant, then he turned back around. “For our class the greatest honor is to become a-” he searched for a word to substitute for one in his native tongue. “I don’t even know what you would call it actually,” he said thoughtfully.
“Explain it than, I’m sure I could come up with one,” Leo said as they waited at a red light.
“Once someone is skilled enough, or has enough rank they’re permitted to take… feathers,” he saw Leo’s confusion. “Erm- targets? We’re given them and sent to other countries, one feather, one life.”
“You kill them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They endanger us. We kill them so they do not come and attack us, cause panic and disorder. What do you call that?”
“I would call them terrorists,” Leo said.
“You call movers terrorists,” Ezio said, “Also that light is green,” he nodded and Leo started, he hadn’t been paying attention, before quickly stepping on the gas. “We seek to only preserve our way of life, which others, especially you people, seem very intent on destroying.”
“Then perhaps a better word is hit man? They are contracted to kill people. Sometimes someone from another country is killed like that or rarely one of our own,” he frowned.
Re: Clipped (16b/?)
That’s what found them at a special boutique a bit later. It was a chic shop actually and full of teenagers who lived off their parents’ money and rode around on mopeds. The clothing here was expensive but extremely good quality and made from old world fabrics from over a century ago. The fabric was rather corse sometimes but it seemed to be what Ezio had meant. The workers and patrons alike also stared at Ezio unlike the people in the department store. It was out of the corner of their eyes though and never obvious. He knew Ezio was aware of it but preferred to ignore it as he looked through the clothing. This time he seemed pleased by it.
Of course Ezio had little concept of cash, he even confessed as much but Leo told him not to worry about it. Antonio had told him very clearly that whatever Leo had to buy for them he’d pay back in full once he was in possession of Des’ portrait. Leo couldn’t even imagine having that much money to do that, sure he wasn’t poor, and could afford sometimes insanely priced items, but to promise that, he couldn’t image it. It still felt almost painful to hand over the cash to pay for the clothes though once Ezio had finished finding what he and his brothers’ needed. He could have just bought a pet with how much the clothes cost for one of them and Leo didn’t know how people could afford such a life style.
“Ezio,” Leo said as they were heading back, Ezio was carrying the bags and didn’t seem at all bothered by it even though they weren’t exactly light. Ezio just hummed. “What are you going to do once you’re home?”
Ezio got that thoughtful look on his face before grinning, “Eat.”
“Excuse me?” Leo blinked at him.
“Traditional food,” he explained still mirthful, “It was hard to adjust to the diet you people here eat when we first got here, lots of fat and sugar and grain. We got sick a lot. I’m looking forward to someone cooking me food I grew up on.”
“Like what?”
“I couldn’t even tell you, it’s been a long time,” Ezio frowned though didn’t exactly look upset.
“Okay, well besides eating,” he pressed as they stopped at Leo’s car and he unlocked the doors and trunk, which Ezio threw the bags into.
Ezio didn’t respond till he was sitting, “Finish my training,” he said settling back. “I was on the fast track when I left, like my brothers, but now,” he sighed, “So much ground to make up. Altair too.”
“I thought he was a full warrior already,” Leo prodded and pulled out into the early afternoon traffic.
“He is. But—
“But?” Leo prompted.
Ezio stared out the window at first, looking distant, then he turned back around. “For our class the greatest honor is to become a-” he searched for a word to substitute for one in his native tongue. “I don’t even know what you would call it actually,” he said thoughtfully.
“Explain it than, I’m sure I could come up with one,” Leo said as they waited at a red light.
“Once someone is skilled enough, or has enough rank they’re permitted to take… feathers,” he saw Leo’s confusion. “Erm- targets? We’re given them and sent to other countries, one feather, one life.”
“You kill them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They endanger us. We kill them so they do not come and attack us, cause panic and disorder. What do you call that?”
“I would call them terrorists,” Leo said.
“You call movers terrorists,” Ezio said, “Also that light is green,” he nodded and Leo started, he hadn’t been paying attention, before quickly stepping on the gas. “We seek to only preserve our way of life, which others, especially you people, seem very intent on destroying.”
“Then perhaps a better word is hit man? They are contracted to kill people. Sometimes someone from another country is killed like that or rarely one of our own,” he frowned.