exsilium | 2nd. ( video. )

( The problem here was, so far as Ellie could see it, was that there were people. Too many people, a claustrophobic press of Transports jammed in so that she felt like she suddenly had some idea what it was like for cattle to be run through the crush. Whether or not they were all destined for an abattoir was another matter entirely.
Not just that, but they weren't the right people. Some of them seemed decent enough, but they weren't her human safety blanket or the guy that kept them all going, or the one that she could always feel superior to. (To be honest, it was a relief none of them were Lee.)

This might be why she is addressing the network from one of the bombed out buildings rather than her place, which she hasnt visited for a few days. Ellie's just surrounded by debris, dirt and water damaged walls, though some of the prior are concealed by some pretty massive piles of paper. She's propping herself up on her elbows, not looking right at the device. )

I was wondering what there is around here in the way of record keeping. I mean, these things have got a lot on them, but something other than that. Pens, paper - the tangible stuff. In case the network fails, or something.

There's probably already something, but I haven't had time to figure all that out yet. And maybe if there isn't, we should make one. Record the people who have been here, what they know, experiences and stuff. Not just stuff that happens here, but before. Or, um, elsewhere, I guess. Wherever home is.

( Despite this being a video broadcast, and deliberately so, she has to yet glanced at the camera. She does now, very briefly, but there is a definite guilty expression to it. Ellie opens her mouth again, but thinks better of it. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You didn't know about Australia, but you had hot chocolate?

( Maybe, sir, maybe you have wrangled a bigger smile. )

Nice priorities.

That is something I have learned here.

[All in a day's work.]

And now I can say the same of Australia.

Fair enough. Maybe Exsilium is just like a giant study abroad program, broadening our horizons.

( Uh. )

Sometimes you can apply to go to school in another country for a bit, learn about other cultures and languages and stuff. That's what study abroad is.

( On second thought, maybe that was obvious. )

Just... when are you from?

[In his time it was simply 'studying.' Universities were quite a thing of luxury.

Ah, but there is that question, yet again. Damn his curiosity.]

A time much, much different from yours, I assure you.

[As if it's not enough of a problem being called old in his time... Though he supposes he can give her this straight answer, considering Ellie went on at length about her home.]

Italia, to be exact. 1503.

Fair dink. ( Quiet, awed sounding. That's a bigger difference in times than she's heard from anyone else. ) 1994 doesn't seem so dramatic, now.

( She can't quite... wrap her head around it, just because it seems so cool and mystical and long ago. It's as big as another world completely, but even moreso because they could be the same world, but separated so completely by their times. )

Men and women in history books never seem quite real. I know they had to be, they were breathing and chatted with people and had lives that weren't just words on paper that our teachers make us read, but it's so hard to envision. Our worlds are so completely different.

( Softly said, and it's a moment before she realises she said it out loud. ) Uh.

( Hmm. ) I don't think I ever learned about that time in history class, though.

( A little sheepish. )

[Ezio chuckles and shakes his head. No history book would ever know of him or the Assassins either, or the wars against the Templars, or the Pieces of Eden.

His story and the stories of his brothers and sisters are all lost and forgotten from the books.]

We are all very real. Perhaps this is your 'study abroad,' not only to learn of other places, but other times.

Maybe. If I ever work in a mueseum that'd be pretty sweet to chuck in my resume.

( It feels so strange to talk like that. At home, they've all given up on futures. Study abroad and what you wanted to do when you grew up, those were things not worth thinking about any more. They were dust.
She makes a face. )

It makes you wonder about how much we never read about, though. And my friends and I, we wrote it all ourselves so that maybe someday people would know what we did, so that it meant something. But all the things that never get written... they still had to mean something and be something essential for someone. It seems so wrong they get forgotten because some guy didn't write it down or the victors didn't want it told.

( Personal experience, history classes and guilt. Australia has it's own black history, has made its own messes. She chews the inside of her cheek unhappily. ) But even when they're written down we don't get it, so how does it change anything?

( Ellie you think too much go lie down )

It matters because it means the world is safer for not knowing what is not told. Sometimes, at least. Some stories are better left to the winds instead of paper. Some stories are necessary to be told in ink, others in blood.

[Ezio pauses.]

History is never what they say. It is where you come in and decide for yourself.

( She opens her mouth to object, but silences herself as Ezio continues, eventually nodding a little. )

Problem is, most people don't think. They take things on face value. They don't question, or anything like that.

( She didn't question enough, she doesn't think. ) It's easier not to take notice and do the mental work, but people are too scared of it.

Acting is always harder than thinking, no matter where or when. [A beat.] You seem to have some knowledge on the matter.

( Hah. Ezio successfully lures out a little chuckle, with a wry smile. ) A bit, here and there.

( She leans back against the wall, mulling it all over. ) Trying to work out what to do, if it'll help, how to do it are all pretty exhausting. And then you've got to actually pull it off.

And you? Are you an actor or a thinker?

Both and neither, I fear. There are many things to consider in which part to play.

It's easier to talk as if they're separate, but I don't think you can act in a way that means anything without thinking. And if you don't keep do things, then sometimes all that thinking is meaningless.

( Her mouth wavers a little, almost a nervous twitch. )

And then you got the times when there's no time to think. You just have to do without weighing up the pros and cons and hope that you're making the right cut. Taking out the cancer instead of healthy flesh and muscle, carve confidently and hope you don't hit a vein.

( War and the body, they've always settled side by side for her. Invasion, sickness, counteraction, medication. We needed to be surgeons.

Without thinking, she keeps speaking, not really considering that she's talking out loud: ) But don't surgeons get to be who they were with an awful lot of thinking and studying and practice?

[The pause from Ezio's side of the feed is a thoughtful one. This girl has clearly had some form of experience in the manner, in the way she speaks. War and death are not things that can be spoken about unless you are familiar with them.]

Perhaps this conversation is better left over the hot chocolate, si?

[These conversations he'd rather have in person and besides, he has little trust in these tablets.]

Yeah. ( She sounds faraway, still, wandering through her thoughts. ) Sounds pretty good.

( And then, a bit cheekily:) You shouting?

[He chuckles.]

As loudly as I can, Ellie.

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