Network

( Texts to Ezio )

I have to say, in all my travels I have not seen a social network site that is localized in such a manner as this. What's with all this dream

So help a girl out who's been gone for the past 14 years, any yoga studio suggestions? Or suggestions in general I guess but right now I'm more focused on finding a yoga studio.

Given the hectic nature of my job lately, I should consider it a miracle that my dreams have progressed at all. Though at least in that dream life Miss Thorne will no longer be a thorn in my side.

It also seems more of my dream abilities are crossing over. I will need to test them out a bit more, though. I could really use being invisible right now

It is absolutely ridiculous to dream of your own death and then wake up to go about your day.

Not as if it was a surprise - since the same pneumonia nearly killed me here - but at least that heart attack on a bench was somewhat quick, and the last thing I saw was my wife and daughter, shopping in the distance. I knew I was going to die, I made peace with the end of my life and all that happened during. When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it. I had time, but I did not know it. And I had love, but I did not feel it. Many decades would pass before I understood the meaning of all three. And now, the twilight of my life, this understanding has passed into contentment was what I told Sofia, in my last letter to her.

The letter was with me when I woke up. So was a skeleton, but interestingly, it was not my skeleton - that would be even weirder, no? But for awhile, after escaping my own execution, I had spent so much time tracking down these keys to open the library of the legendary Assassin Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad - it was a race to get there before the Templars did, since we all believed that library was bursting with secrets. But inside there were no books, just Altaïr's skeleton. And another Apple of Eden, hidden, but I refused to take it. It would only bring about more suffering, more hardships - and I had seen enough. It was then I left behind my sword and my Hidden Blade. I left behind my life as an Assassin.

Certamente, none of that helps in deciding what to do about a skeleton now, but - that phrase 'skeletons in the closet' has more literal meaning.

Learning things about myself in the dreams all disjointed is tiring. My father is perhaps even more irritating in the dreams than he is out of them. But he is no less a monster in either place

Some things I wish I did not see Henrik

It does look like I'm all undaggered now, however. And ripping hearts out as usual. And I got to punch Niklaus a few times, which was rewarding for a moment.

And then things got worse. As they always do. And then I got smarter apparently. Perhaps there is hope for me after all.

Finn and Kol have returned. Our mother is back as well. I wish I could trust that her return was a good thing. I want nothing more than for our family to be a family as I fear I always will. She has seemingly forgiven Niklaus for killing her. Elena said that she is genuine in her forgiveness and her intentions. Still, I cannot help this feeling.

Che palle. I did not know the answer to the question 'can these dreams put you into the hospital?' was yes. Then again, it may be a combination of them plus my own stubbornness that put me into the hospital, but here I am. With many needles stuck in me and staying for 'observation.'

At least I can breathe again, that is a positive.

I took a nap and woke up to see that the statue of my likeness was also right here in my hospital room - I am not sure where it was located in a dream, though it must mean I die soon because why else would someone put a statue of me in their office? But anyway, here I had to explain it as a prank. I think I am delirious enough on drugs for them to have believed me.

So, that old ass TV I got a few weeks ago? Yeah, well this morning there was a weird ring sitting on top of it, like it's always been there.

It's nice to see the dreams haven't gotten any less dramatic. I imagine they will remain this way. At least no one can say it will ever get boring.

I am perpetually weak to my brother I am tempted to punch myself in the face, but I don't think that would work or do me any good, so I guess I'll just have to live with my choices

Apparently despite all of my preparation and good reasoning, I seem to be much the same as I always was. My brother is still alive and he has our family somewhere. Supposedly safe. I would say I was surprised, but I am not surprised in the slightest. He says he'll take me to them, but I can't help but wonder what the catch is and what annoyance I'll be suffering for letting him live. Needless to say, I am not looking forward to what I'll see next, but I need to know.

Greetings from Italy!

After a flight that seemed like it would never end, Enzo and I arrived safe and sound on one of the most beautiful countries in the world. After a stop in Rome we're now relaxing comfortably in Florence. I was nervous about meeting his grandmother but she has been amazingly sweet!

Alecto, it looks like you're going to have to pick up a back up souvenir.

There is a random old mid-century style television in my apartment that I did not buy. Considering it looks like the same TV we use to switch between personas and I've never heard of the manufacturer "ISZK", I'm assuming this is one of those Dream crossover things.

I would have preferred to get my gun.

These dreams are becoming intriguing. My brother and I have made some alliances in London, and we have freed Whitechapel from Templar control. I think Jacob's happy because he finally has the gang he's always wanted. I suppose I see the merit in having a gang, but strictly in the having numbers and allies on our side as we attempt to undo the Templar control, which is in every level of society in London. Working from the bottom up is not an easy task.

Though I have found some music boxes across the city that contain some medallions that open a vault hidden beneath the city. A vault that Michele Regue made. I believe he hid the Aegis there, and I am determined to recover it. Though Jacob thinks I'm wasting my time chasing some mad man's music boxes across the city. But he never did appreciate these sorts of things.

One of our new friends is none other than Alexander Graham Bell. The man is quite the genius, and I rather enjoyed working with him. He even upgraded my gauntlet to allow me better access to leap across rooftops in London. And I leapt from the very top of Big Ben after I helped Alexander fix a device of his. I have to say, that Leap of Faith was the single most exhilarating experience of my life.

Though why must my Assassin outfits all come with corsets? How are they conducive to fighting? I never understood this, even if it was the fashion. At least I had the sense to wear pants.

Is this not the most beautiful work of art you have ever seen? My wanted poster, with such a clear and well-drawn depiction of me. Fuck the Pazzi.

50,000 florins (florins were gold coins) is about 7.5 million dollars, in case it is what you were wondering.

This is not the only work of art I have received, no. My family was quite close with a man named Leonardo da Vinci, perhaps he is familiar to you. We purchased many original paintings from him when he was younger and these paintings - once carried home with me in a box - are now in my living room. To think I was also there, when he painted The Mona Lisa.

If these paintings were actual people, I would make dolce amore to them all the day and night.

Now if I could just dream of not killing people for about five minutes, I would be appreciative. Perhaps this will happen. I have settled in Constantinople, looking for keys, and have met a Venetian woman who has bewitched me and owns a bookshop. Searching for keys and decoding maps seems much better than taking out Borgia scum, especially when the owner of the bookshop is a redhead.

Jesus Christ. I need to put some kind of sign on the door to my bar stating something along the lines of "If your sick, stay the fuck home"

You'd think this would be common sense, right??

I have to say that being daggered for an uncertain amount of time really does nothing for my looks. My clothes are a wreck, my hair's a mess. I can't even classify it as an attractive level of disheveled. I look like I've been lying in someone's dirty basement for days to weeks. Oh wait. That coupled with the experience of waking up in a house I haven't been invited into. A true delight, I'm sure. Except not so much. Also I thought Elena was Katherine when I woke up, which just brought up far too many flashbacks and some very confusing emotions

Elena But at any rate, things are very interesting in the dreams. I think I'm beginning to like my dream self a little more. But it may just be the heightened levels of sass and the fact that I had a plan in the end. I wasn't going to let them die. I've learned quite a bit more on multiple fronts. Katherine Not all of it I wanted to know, but I know it all the same. Either way, it was very...enlightening.

[Private to Lexi]
I'd hate to assume too much, but I was wondering if we might talk. About the vampire thing.

It's days like this that make me wish I was still on active duty. I want to be over there fighting, not sitting here doing desk work.

The dreams seem no less unusual the more of them I have. I saw myself in England briefly. Very briefly. I can't say my hairstyle was something I'd ever want to repeat. The clothing either. I also seem to have interesting ways of handling problems. I'm not sure that I'd choose to repeat those either. I suppose if I had to, I would, but

Apparently I am attempting to lure Klaus out to kill him. What sense that is supposed to make, I cannot say My choices seem to make less sense the more of them I see, but I suppose having the full picture might explain a few things, but it isn't explaining anything better at the moment.

It is very odd, to go to sleep and then see this...story playing out that you are watching. My brother Petruccio was very sickly as a child, and one day he asked me to collect eagle feathers for him - I was not certain why, but I did it anyway if he promised to return to bed. Then he was killed, deemed an accomplice to my father who was falsely tried of treason Petruccio was stabbed here, he-- but I kept the feathers and continued to collect them in honor of his memory. I do not know why he wanted them - all I know is that feathers were often used by Assassins to signal that they have been successful in taking out their targets, but that was much in the past. Not so much in my time.

To my surprise, the collection of eagle feathers was by my bed this morning. So was my lute, though it was been years since I have played. Hundreds of years, if these 'dreams' are what people say they really are.

I wasn't certain at first, but it seems I am having those Dreams people here sometimes talk about.

Apparently my father belonged to a secret brotherhood known as the Assassin Order. He's training my brother and I in the Creed. Or, well, mostly me. My brother seems to prefer wasting his time elsewhere, but me? I am focused and embracing the Creed fully. Also apparently I'm living in the Victorian era, which is really ironic because I've always felt like I was born in the wrong era here.

Apparently I was correct in thinking I couldn't hold off the dreams forever. It was not exactly as I expected it to be, however. I'd come expecting to find Katerina, but instead found Elena...one of the doppelgangers. Apparently she is not the first. Also apparent is that I am in the habit of approving kidnapping (or at least not voicing and disapproval?), but I suppose catching Katerina is different than a human. I smelled her neck and ripped her vervain necklace off. It was surprisingly creepy of me Only they had the human and not the vampire. There's a lot of detail in the middle that I doubt anyone wants to hear about. It's very messy and involves me killing someone In the end, I got impaled, which you'd think would kill a vampire, but apparently I got better. After my gray stage. How artistic of me. A pity about the suit, though. You'd think I'd learn to spend less on them after all these years. Alas.

Ciao! Mi dispiace in advance, English is only the fourth or so language I learned. I learned for my studies, back at my American university in Rome. Often at times is confusione to write and read but now I am teaching Art History in the States, at university, my skill at this will surely improve even more.

Mi chiamo Ezio Auditore. I come from Florence, and also our family villa in Tuscany. Both very different places in Italy. I had to look back at this discussion site to catch up and it gave me many questions when I read prendere fischi per fiaschi!. But I do think I will like it here, even if American coffee is not so good. You say 'it's awful' but we say mi fa cagare! which means the same thing in Italian, only expressed more in dramatic way. In the literal that translates to 'it makes me poop' but, penso di sì, we have always been more dramatic in our language.

Are you seeking adventure? A guilt free way to unleash the violence inside? Then come out to [GPS COORDINATES] and have fun laying waste to what I like to call Darkspawn. I promise it'll be a good time.

I can stop it, I just need people to hold the line.

The next Yank that tries to do my accent is going to get shot in the eye with an arrow.

So let's say you've got a whole bunch of magickal artifacts that if someone touches, they'll die. You've got them in containers, so they're portable, but you don't just want to leave it laying around.

Where do you put it? Storage container? Safe deposit?

Santa Maria degli Angeli, what a day.

I feel as though I must say this in a public place, for the benefit of those who consult psychiatrists or psychologists in this country.

If you make an active threat against yourself or someone whom I might reasonably believe you could injure, it is not only allowed, but mandated, that I inform law enforcement. That is the law of this state. Please realize this. I cannot keep your privacy when you make threats. I know the dreams may drive one to desperate lengths, but the matter is out of my hands.

Private to Alex Roivas: May I come see you tomorrow? Tonight I think I wish to curl into bed and be alone.

Is there a difference between a bribe and a 'I really really want to show my appreciation for not leaving my crazy arse' present?

Okay, is everyone in my dreams mentally defective? It's weird, because I'm not always in my dreams. A lot of times I'm reading this book and watching other people's lives through their eyes.

So far, I've been a Roman centurion who, after stumbling upon five pillars in the desert and hearing them moan his name, decided to approach them. Protip: if you hear random objects of an ominous shape calling your name in the desert, don't head toward them. You will turn into a lich and eternally serve dark eldrictchian horrors.

I've also been a Cambodian dancer who whined about wanting a more exciting life about twenty minutes before she had an elder god's heart put into her chest. Oh, and Charlemange? He died because Xel'lotath ordered it. My dream great-grandfather found out that there's an entire city of the dark eldritchian horrors under our family manor in New Hampshire. Kinda went batshit and got locked up in a sanitarium.

Oh, and I can still do friggin' magic. I think I might need Xanax, but I can fix anything by asking an elder god to do it. So there's that.

How's your 2014 going?

My mask showed up.

I'm both tremendously comfortable and reallyreallyreallyscared.

Hello from the future! Sam surprised me with a bloody trip to Paris. And it's been just...

Really it's been exactly what I needed.

So I'm sitting in a plane, waiting at a gate. You know how it is when the flight lands and everyone pops up out of their seats like the plane is on fire and they need to jump off of it before they die? And they clog up the aisles run people over trying to get their crap out of the overhead bins.

Like they're monkeys.

I figured - hey, might as well surf the net on my phone while I wait for these assholes to 'Exit the plane in an orderly fashion'. This is the network my phone decided to connect me to. So hi, everyone.

Also - and maybe more importantly - Dad, how are you? You might want to head to the airport.

It's weird; my dreams barely involve me. They're mostly dreams of me reading a book about people who sacrificed their lives to stop eldritch horror gods from invading the Earth. Same shit, different day. except I wake up half insane and screaming, but no big. and the hallucinations and the voices. Fun fact: Charlemagne was killed by an elder god. The more you know.

Has anyone ... learned things from their dreams?

Oh boy. Presents from my dreams. Really, Fate, you shouldn't have.

Practicing medicine as I have done all of these years is always illuminating. Especially in Orange County. The series of events that happens here is always unique, but despite that, it reminds me of previous years, and previous events. War, and sickness, and strange happenings come and go through the world, and never stop coming and going. But so too does Peace, and health, and good days.

We must hold to the latter and use their memories to move through the former. And learn, always learn. For while we live, there will always be something to learn.

Some people are going to say 'I told you so.'

Lets just get that out of the way right now.

I believe that last night has heralded my entry into the so called Dreamer's club. At first it was very charming, actually - I dreamt of my own birth into a wealthy family, in what I think in English is called Renaissance times. Leonardo da Vinci was a friend of my dear mother's. I even had two brothers and a sister, as I do here.

( cut for nsfw/gore, still visible to all characters )

I am not too proud to say I was terrified as I awoke.

I'm beginning to wonder how this place isn't swarming with men in black suits taking in everyone who's had one of these dreams. I know I've only scratched the surface and-

You don't see things that are right in front of you. I see it all the time in my clients, but I never thought to ask why someone would bother to dye their eyelashes. I wonder what else I've seen and rationalized away, and how close to disaster all the dreamers really are.

It's funny think that people who've had these dreams call themselves that. It feels like everyone else must just be in a dead sleep not to notice them.

I apologize for rambling, but I feel like this is a sentiment other people might share.

I don’t know what I’m becoming. I wake up with a new scar every day. Some of them are angry and raw, others faded. My bones ache, my fingernails, my teeth. I look in the mirror and there’s a stranger staring back. Her eyes… there’s a hardness in them. A darkness, like something that could consume me.

I kill these men in my dreams. They’re hopeless. They’re twisted by that island into something beastial. Most of them are insane. They want to kill me. Kill me, and they have Sam. I want to make them afraid of me. I want them to know I’m coming and I want them to die. Before anything could happen to any of my friends.

I count. One. Then three, then ten. I kill them with a pistol, I kill them with a bow. Oh, I’m so good with that bow. I still feel sick, each time I kill. The worse are up close. When I have to kill with the climbing axe, or choke them with my bow. But I don’t pause, I don’t reflect on it, because if I did, I’d die. And if I died, there’d be no one for Sam.

They’re afraid of me. Last night they saw me coming. They were afraid of me and I made them run.

I feel like I lost control of my life. I thought these dreams were going to be exciting, but they’ve become an utter nightmare. I can’t even relax. Shepard snuck up behind me and I nearly stabbed her with a knife.

She just gave me this look. Like she knew. Like she understood. And that scares me most of all.

Allora. Valarnet, please consider this my call for patients. While most of my time is taken up by my work at UCLA, I do see patients three days a week. It is a welcome respite from my clinical duties.

The only stumbling block for some is that I cannot prescribe. Under your laws, only psychiatrists may give medicines, while I am a psychologist. If this does not trouble you, and you wish for someone to talk to, please contact me.

Buon giorno, Valarnet. I am newly arrived to the network, though I have been in this Orange County for almost one year.

My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze, though you may drop the last bit. I am a clinical psychologist who works with researchers at UCLA, though I also see patients three days per week. My job, it is fascinating, and I come to America from Italy because, well, you have more people here, so more people will need my services. No?

I look forward to meeting all of you.