ąųdįţǫŗę (mentori) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-02-19 10:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, ezio auditore da firenze, wanda maximoff (scarlet witch) |
Who: Ezio Auditore & Wanda Maximoff
What: Lunch, to cheer Wanda up a little after her brother moved
When: Beginning of February
Where: UCI campus, a picnic table outdoors
Rating/Warnings: Nada!
Status: Complete
Wanda was a completely mixed bag of emotions lately. She was dreadfully sad about her brother leaving to look after their sponsor who had become very ill. She couldn’t blame him, she had wanted to follow him, but she was fiercely devoted to her studies and she had met Ezio who was incredibly nice and made her feel happy. It meant that alongside her other feelings, she felt guilty about staying and enjoying herself while her brother had moved away and was performing the hard task of caring for someone. Taking a breath, Wanda knocked on Professor Ezio’s office door, wrapped her hands around the shoulder strap of her bag and waited for him to answer. It was a shame that Wanda’s brother had left - but we must do what we feel we must do, and Ezio understood that very well. He had not wanted to leave his family either, his mother and sister, uncle, niece and nephew - but they were doing well back in Tuscany, living their own lives, and he kept in touch. A visit, a little vacanza, would happen too - as soon as he had a break in the semester, somewhere. Maybe for the summer. So it was no hardship to spend time with a signorina missing her twin - he liked Wanda’s company, she was pleasant. And he also did not mind doing some cooking for her, to make sure she ate. She was alone now, in her place, and so it was especially important that she look after herself. He had brought a few things with him in containers, and he thought they could just eat in his office or take it outside - for the fresh air, which was actually preferable. “Ciao, bella,” he greeted, when he opened the door, smiling crookedly, the expression reaching toffee-colored eyes. “You are hungry, yes? I have plenty. There are tables and benches outside if you want this.” “Ciao,” Wanda returned, smiling at him. “You made all this? So you are a master chef as well as a professor?” she asked, wonder and amusement evident in her voice. “I am happy to sit outside. It is better than staying inside,” she told him with a sad smile, dropping her eyes from his. Truth be told, she'd been close to packing up and leaving for England after only a few hours at home alone over the weekend. She missed Pietro terribly. “Something like this, yes - you can take the leftovers home with you,” Ezio insisted, grabbing the cloth grocery bag with containers inside, shutting the door and locking it so they could go out and actually enjoy the fresh air. Lunch in Italy usually consisted of rice or pasta with meat or fish, and a side salad - many Italians went home to eat lunch, so it was an important meal of the day. It was a fairly light meal today too, pasta with a whine wine and herb sauce, the salad tossed with oil and vinegar - nothing heavy like cheese or bacon or something like that. He also had a bottle of sparkling water - you would not find such selection in Italy, like sodas and teas, what in the world was that. It was usually either water or wine, but wine was probably not appropriate for lunch with a university student. He found a table and settled there, taking out the containers and utensils. “How are you faring, signorina? Honestly?” “This is amazing, thank you,” Wanda smiled, shaking her head in amazement as he set out the food. “Honestly? I am very sad,” she told him honestly, dropped her eyes from his face and shrugged. “I miss my brother like I have had my arm taken off. Our apartment is...lonely and too quiet without him there, and I get distracted when I would not have done before,” she told him, her throat tightening with the truth of her words. “Sorry,” she kept her eyes down and played with a fork to distract herself. Ezio imagined it would be lonely for Wanda - he frowned a bit, putting himself in her shoes. He was across the ocean from his sister, but he and Claudia talked regularly. They weren’t extremely close, not the way Wanda seemed to be with her twin. Then again, they had literally known each other since time in the womb. It was a different sort of bond, than your typical sibling relationship. “Do not apologize,” he said kindly, dishing out some lunch for her and giving her a bottle of water also. “You will let me know if I can help in any way, yes? Even if it is just someone to talk to.” Though that begged the question, “Have you thought of transferring, to be overseas with him?” Ezio asked. However, if she was settled here, it could be difficult to pack up and move. “Thank you,” Wanda smiled up at him as she accepted the bottle of water from him. “I have and it is still something I think of seriously. Pietro told me to try and stay and not disrupt my studies too much. I will do my best to try for him,” she told Ezio. “He has been so good to me and he deserves nothing less,” she said resolutely and smiled up at him. “How about you? Are you settling in well?” “Then if you decide to stay, you stay. I know you will make it, whatever you wish to do,” Ezio said with confidence. He speared some pasta with his fork, twirling it around the tines, digging into the lunch spread. As far as settling in well, yes, he supposed that he was. Things were not going in the direction he had envisioned for himself (the strange dreams were the main factor in this) but he would simply have to roll with the punches. He swallowed a drink of water before answering, “I am settling, and liking it here in Orange County,” he nodded. “It is...not what I was expecting? But I have met some fantastic people already. I am glad they were a part of my life. And I also love teaching, so that helps too.” Wanda grinned at him as she listened to him talk and followed suit with the food. “And what were you expecting? Have you found this place to be so different?” “I do not know, exactly,” he admitted with a smile. “Certainly not...going to sleep and seeing myself in the Renaissance, Italy, with Leonardo da Vinci as a best friend.” There was more to it, of course, but talking of such things made him uneasy. Especially with the similarities in the death of his family - reliving it again, just in a different time period, was not what he was expecting at all. “I think I have found this place different in its own way. And unique in its own way also.” “You are friends with da Vinci in your Dreams?” Wanda looked at him in amazement. “That must be...inspiring to say the least! How did you come to know him?” she asked curiously. “Tell me more about your Dreams, are they...enjoyable?” she quizzed, wrapping some more pasta around her fork. Ezio chuckled fondly, when Wanda asked about the great da Vinci. It was surreal, to dream of being close to him - but their camaraderie had sparked, and he anticipated that he’d found a lifelong friend in the brilliant artist (though, of course, at the time Ezio wasn’t so sure Leonardo would make it - he did not have much faith in himself or his talents, sadly). “He had his workshop in Florence, when he was a young man,” the professor shared. “Leonardo sold many paintings to my family, and we met when I picked them up one day. He was - he had a very untidy workspace.” This made Ezio laugh too; it was something he tended to tease Leonardo about as well. “As for my dreams, they are - “ Well, no, not enjoyable. He honestly did not know how to describe them. “They are very rich in culture and history. I am still waiting to see exactly what role I will play in protecting our lands from corruption and power-hungry Templars.” “Don’t they say that artistic people are not always the most organised or tidy of people?” Wanda grinned, imagining a workshop with papers, pencils and paints on every surface, models of his famous inventions dotted around the room and a man with paint covered overalls stood in the middle of it all. “How are the Templars involved with da Vinci? I thought they were involved with the Crusades in Jerusalem,” she frowned before taking another mouthful. “Well - “ It was a long story, though Ezio was impressed that Wanda knew her history regarding the Crusades and Templars; that was a long time ago, in Ezio’s dreamworld, the time of the Temple of Solomon and Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, a great Assassin, putting a stop to multiple Templar sieges. “They are always around, throughout history, in one form or another,” Ezio replied. “In Italy, during this time, they are attempting to infiltrate both the Church and the nobility - all in an effort to grab control and power for themselves. Leonardo is more on the side of us, the Assassins. We are always fighting Templars.” Leonardo wasn’t an Assassin himself, of course, but he helped with their equipment - with the Hidden Blade especially, upgrading it quite a bit and making it easier to wear. Especially without having to cut off the finger. Wanda had spent some time in the UK growing up, so had learned about the Templars from their sponsor there. “Assassins? You are an assassin in your Dreams then?” Wanda looked up at Ezio from her lunch in amazement before frowning. “But why fighting the Templars? I thought they were men of god,” she asked curiously. It was nice to have something to utterly distract herself from her current situation. It was such a foreboding word, wasn’t it? Assassin. Made Ezio sound like he killed people for a living. Which was exactly what he did, for the most part, but only Templars. They were always engaged in some kind of battle, brotherhood versus brotherhood. “Not so much, signorina,” he chuckled kindly, taking a swig of water to chase his latest bite of pasta. “They only come across that way, if it gets them what they want.” Templars worked their way into the church in Italy too - Rodrigo Borgia would even become Pope someday, if you knew your history. But he was not a good man. “Their goal, at least the goal of the Templar brotherhood in the dreams I have had, they wish to control the world - create it in their perfect image, do away with chaos and impose strict order.” Which was impossible. Not everything could be orderly, all of the time. That was no way to live. Freedom, they were all in this country seeing now more than ever how important that was. “But that is boring, no?” he smiled wryly. “My apologies for going on and on, stella.” “No, no, I enjoy hearing about it,” Wanda shook herself and smiled brightly at him, filing away the word stella to look up later. “I like hearing you talk,” she admitted a little shyly, feeling a little heat bloom in her cheeks and tucking her hair behind her ear as she did. “It is fascinating to hear a different perspective of history and is a very nice distraction. What is the reason the Templars want to take over the world? Do they see something wrong with it?” she asked. Ezio thought the differing perspective on history was interesting too - especially for him, a professor of Art History who adored culture and expression. That he really was best friends with da Vinci, of all people, it tickled him pink. “They see much wrong with the world,” his smile turned slightly disappointed, as he spoke of the Templars. “It is too...chaotic for them, yes? But they do not understand the value of freedom. They do not understand that they cannot control the world for themselves.” Apparently they never got the message, if they were still around centuries later. That way of thinking, a culture unto its own, would not be stamped out so easily. “So it is free will that they do not like,” Wanda simplified, pausing to take a quick sip of her drink. “That does not seem like it would work in this day and age. People are too independent do you not think?” she asked him. “Of course. People are independent in any day and age. It is just our way, what makes us human.” Perhaps some were more followers than leaders, but humans were not cattle. They did not simply moo and then move on to the next field to graze in. Or at least, Ezio hoped not - he always encouraged his students, his peers, to think and act for themselves. To make their own decisions. Sometimes they would not be the best decision, but that was a part of the learning experience. Alas. He would not drone on and on about Templars - it would just make him irritated, when he thought about how much he hated them. The Borgia’s especially. “Anyway, it was nice of you to join me for lunch today, signorina,” he told Wanda. “Feel free to take these leftovers. I will make sure you have some food at your place,” he added with a friendly wink. “Thank you professor,” Wanda smiled, blushing slightly as he winked at her. He really was incredibly handsome and while Wanda never thought she would feel like this about a professor, she liked it. “I will have to repay your kindness with some home cooking of my own, a recipe from my homeland maybe?” she offered with a smile. That was an offer Ezio didn’t receive very often - a recipe from someone else’s homeland? Interesting. He’d be a fool to turn that down, and Dr. Auditore was no fool. “Certamente, that sounds nice,” he nodded. “I have not had Russian food in some time. And I look forward to this, bella.” “фантастика,“ Wanda smiled brightly at him, slipping into her mother tongue briefly. “When would you like to come?” she asked, finishing her off the last piece of pasta in her container. Russian was a language Ezio did not know (fantastika was easy enough to figure out though), but he was fluent in a few - besides English and Italian, there was also Turkish and Greek - but one day, perhaps he would like to learn. It presented a challenge, with its particular alphabet, however he did enjoy a challenge. And immersing himself in other cultures. “Whenever is convenient for you, signorina,” he replied. “On a Friday, maybe? I only have a morning and afternoon class then. Many of the students are already ready for the upcoming weekend.” He grinned, both exasperated and amusement at the thought. “Friday sounds perfect, I look forward to it,” Wanda nodded, unable to stop herself smiling at the thought of him coming over for dinner. “Are there any foods you are...allergic to? Nuts? Spices?” she asked. “Nothing, no,” Ezio shook his head. Or at least, nothing that he knew of. He enjoyed spices of many kinds, and utilized many of them in his own cooking. Basil, rosemary, oregano, and the fresh kinds at that - everytime he plucked an herb from where it grew, to use in a pasta dish, he was harkening back to traditions from centuries ago. Cooking was life. “You will allow me to bring dessert, at least? Or a bottle of something nice - which do you like more, strawberries or cherries?” It was an important question. Would help him decide whether to bring fragolino or maraschino. “That is good, then I will have to look at some of my old recipes and pick my very favourite to make for you,” Wanda nodded resolutely. “And if you insist, then I will not say no to a nice bottle of wine. I like both strawberries and cherries, but I think cherries are my favourite,” she smiled across at him happily. Maraschino it was, then. Ezio really liked the taste, even if it was an acquired one - sort of sharp, a sweet and sour, then with something confectionary to it also. Like marzipan. You probably could not drink much of it on your own, but it was nice to have in a home bar collection. He’d also bring a bottle of wine to go with dinner too, all the liquor. “Then I will find something,” he promised. None of this American-made stuff either. He knew maraschino came in bottles with the baskets on the bottom, some manufactured thing, but Ezio much preferred his imports. “And will see you on a Friday. For now, I must conquer my afternoon classes.” “Of course, professor, go, conquer. Thank you for everything, I had a wonderful lunch,” Wanda beamed up at him brightly. This had genuinely been one of the best meals she had had since Pietro had left and she was incredibly grateful to Ezio for facilitating that. “I will see you at 7 on friday and I will message you with my address,” she told him as she started to pack him the containers. “I hope you have a good afternoon.” “Same to you, signorina,” Ezio helped her pack up, since Wanda was going to be taking the leftovers home with her. He’d purposely made a lot, but what could he say. He had caring instincts in him somewhere. |