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#unsure of posting this bc dialogue is actually originally written in italian since. i can. and the translation in english made me a bit ugh
vvanessaives · 1 year
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wip wednesday whatever day
i was tagged by @girlbosselrond and @morvaris thank you both so much beloveds!!
i'm tagging @arklay @nuclearstorms @devilbrakers @faarkas @indorilnerevarine @risingsh0t @shepardgf @malefiicarum @weisshaupts @camelliagwerm @shadowglens @denerims @jacobseed and any other of my super cool writer mutuals mwah
i said i would bring back my ac2 oc and i did because sometimes it's nice to write about idiots that share your culture but. it's the year of our lord 2023 so like i deserve to be shot for this tbh
"May I know your name, then, my lady?"
"Indifference." She spared a reply, one word the best she could offer. Undoubtedly, and needlessly, haughty. Chin raised up by the pure force of her arrogance and eyes gaping as if possessed by the pompousness of her own reply. A posture deserving of a pretentious portrait. One of the kinds that carry the features of lords and ladies into history, painted with pretty tints and horrid fatigue on a fine, far more noble, linen canvas stained with the stench of their wealth until the end of times or ruin would come.
“My lady Indifference.” Palm resting above his heart and arm held out from his body, Ezio performed the caricature of a bow. “I feel I've caught your dislike, undeserved if you will, but in any case I apologize.” If it wasn’t for the grin tugging the corner of his mouth up and carrying the scar over his lips into a stretch as well, Ezio’s insincere honesty could’ve fooled an untrained eye. Truth is, arrogance could only be fought with akin approach, like mockery.
“What's a woman's name to you but another useless thorn in a rose? If I speak of it now, the wind would blow it away in less than a moment from your mind and from my lips.” Ginevra tilted her head to the side, studying the figure clad in white in front of her better, and a soft clunking of the pendants hanging to her lobes accompanied the movement. “Your fame precedes you.”
“And yours is unknown as far as I know.”
“How did you recognize me then?”
“Pearls.” He earnestly replied. “No one else wore them like you in Venice that day, much less now in Florence. But if you wish for an answer free of flattery…” his eyes lowered to the painter’s hands, taking one last peek for certainty “I'm sure you know that charcoal on white is incredibly easy to spot.”
Instinctively, fingertip met fingertip and began rubbing one another, spreading further the charcoal staining them. Frivolous surprise. Ezio managed to leave her wordless, that she could admit; but not for too long.
“And yet you have met me three times now, including today, but you neither remember nor know which one was the first."
“If you deemed me worthy of a name, I would never forget you again. On the contrary, I would even remember the past."
Whispers in Florence spoke of Ezio as a charmer, but Ginevra prefered to regard him as a satyr for his smile matched the creatures in mischievousness. Deceiving yet full of wit. Imminent trouble, they should call him.
“Beatrice.” She stated swiftly.
And a chuckle came as response. “Ask me to call you a liar then."
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