With the new change of scenery, Desmond had hoped that, maybe, just maybe the whole stuck in a chair for ten hours a day would be a bit better. But, it had only gotten far worse. Since the Templar's had decided to kindly ruin their hideout in New York, Lucy had relocated them to Italy. And not just anywhere in Italy, but the long abandoned home of his famous ancestor, Ezio Auditore.
Almost as soon as they arrived, he had been constantly plagued with the memories of the assassino. Some of them had been helpful others had been downright annoying. For example, Ezio seemed to think that Desmond's sex-life was less than stellar. Which meant that, from somewhere in the back of his mind, the little Italian hobgoblin would send near pornographic memories of his exploits.
Frankly, it was starting to get exhausting. There were only so many times that he could disappear to the bathroom to 'take care of a little problem' before the other's started to question. Especially Shaun, the British twat just couldn't seem to drop it.
Only a week into staying at the Villa de Monteriggioni and Desmond had to get out.
To be fair, in his first couple of days, he was more than free to wander around. Which he had more than happily done. Then Lucy started to get e-mails of Templar movements and he was, once more, confined to the inside would. It wouldn't have been so bad had Shaun not decided to steal Lucy's yogurt; that was a whole other can of worms that he didn't really want to think about at the moment.
With his ever enhancing talents, Desmond had snuck his way back out of the Villa. Thanks to Ezio's ever constant presence, he had found a couple secret passage ways. And thanks to his own intelligence, he had thought it best not to inform the others. Now, he found himself back out on the centuries old streets of Monteriggioni. Although, much like another night, he found himself out at a rather strange hour.
He revealed in how the moon cast soft light against the tanned stones. He adored how clear and crisp the air was; vastly different from New York, let alone the Villa. Everything was so open and so totally different. Even if he had seen it over and over in the mind of his ancestor, those weren't his memories. It wasn't his visions.
This view of the Tuscany city was completely and totally his. And he loved it.
In the back of his mind, Ezio was fighting to see the city too. He was most likely punching Altair further into eternity to get to the front of Desmond's mind. He wanted to see his home so dearly. But Desmond fought back. This was the first time, in a long time, that his thoughts were his own.
Ghosts of Lives Past [1/9]
Almost as soon as they arrived, he had been constantly plagued with the memories of the assassino. Some of them had been helpful others had been downright annoying. For example, Ezio seemed to think that Desmond's sex-life was less than stellar. Which meant that, from somewhere in the back of his mind, the little Italian hobgoblin would send near pornographic memories of his exploits.
Frankly, it was starting to get exhausting. There were only so many times that he could disappear to the bathroom to 'take care of a little problem' before the other's started to question. Especially Shaun, the British twat just couldn't seem to drop it.
Only a week into staying at the Villa de Monteriggioni and Desmond had to get out.
To be fair, in his first couple of days, he was more than free to wander around. Which he had more than happily done. Then Lucy started to get e-mails of Templar movements and he was, once more, confined to the inside would. It wouldn't have been so bad had Shaun not decided to steal Lucy's yogurt; that was a whole other can of worms that he didn't really want to think about at the moment.
With his ever enhancing talents, Desmond had snuck his way back out of the Villa. Thanks to Ezio's ever constant presence, he had found a couple secret passage ways. And thanks to his own intelligence, he had thought it best not to inform the others. Now, he found himself back out on the centuries old streets of Monteriggioni. Although, much like another night, he found himself out at a rather strange hour.
He revealed in how the moon cast soft light against the tanned stones. He adored how clear and crisp the air was; vastly different from New York, let alone the Villa. Everything was so open and so totally different. Even if he had seen it over and over in the mind of his ancestor, those weren't his memories. It wasn't his visions.
This view of the Tuscany city was completely and totally his. And he loved it.
In the back of his mind, Ezio was fighting to see the city too. He was most likely punching Altair further into eternity to get to the front of Desmond's mind. He wanted to see his home so dearly. But Desmond fought back. This was the first time, in a long time, that his thoughts were his own.
And he was going to keep it that way.