robowest | [ WEEK ONE

ARRIVAL

It's a surprisingly quiet ride. The passenger cart is nothing more than wood and a bit of cotton to cushion the seats but for some reason, even as the train hurtles along down the track, the cart remains silent. It only starts filling with noise when the passengers begin to stir.

There isn't any indication on how you got here. No grogginess, no injuries -- in fact, those who arrive with injuries might find them healed up completely (of course there are others who won't be so lucky) -- but in one blink and the next, you are here, on this train. Maybe you're even sitting next to a friend. Maybe a stranger.

Won't be any time to talk either, the train suddenly slowing down with enough of a jerk to throw its passengers back into their seats. A few seconds later, it comes to a complete stop and with a whistle, the doors open and a voice calls from outside. It's male, with a slight mechanical twang behind it and anyone who looks out the window towards the station can just about spot the portly man out on the platform.

"You might as well come on out, folks. You won't be getting any answers on the train."

Once everyone is out on the platform, the man stands before them taking an assessing look at each person. There is something very off about him, though he looks human enough -- but his eyes are too white, his skin too dry, and his hair is doesn't shine quite right. He is dressed in a flannel shirt, suspenders, and jeans, a cowboy hat atop his head and a badge pinned to his shirt that reads "Sheriff". After a moment, he gives a gruff nod and speaks again.

"Howdy. Real happy to see all of you. Explanations will come... Sunday morning, yeah. Give y'all a bit of time to meet each other. Settle in. Keys are on the table over there, hat and pistol in your room. Don't, er... Don't shoot each other right away but if you do, my office is over there. Go get some dinner, sun's about to set. Wouldn't want any coyote trouble."

And that seems to be... it. The Sheriff tips his hat and turns to head to the building with the large "Sheriff" sign on the front. There is a table nearby, keys neatly laid out for everyone with nametags attached to each one. An owl hoots in the distance and a breeze passes through the group. It's quiet again.

Welcome to game start! Characters will find their items in their hotel rooms and anyone who goes to visit the Sheriff after he leaves will find the station empty. On top of that, rulebooks will not be available to find until later. The Sheriff might be forcing it a little but it seems like the intent here really is to get everyone to interact with each other. If there are any questions, PM or hit up the plurk at

robowest!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Truly? I suppose the Pazzi conspiracy flew over their heads as well?

[He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. Exactly how much did he want to share? Given the circumstances, there wasn't much anyone could do with the information, but it was still best to be careful.]

I was in Venezia, alongside my uncle, Leonardo da Vinci, and Niccolò Machiavelli. The two men are close friends of my family and we had met to discuss some renovations in Monteriggioni.

[Actually, he didn't know Machiavelli very well and would more accurately call him an ally, but this is easier for now.]

Oh, no. The conspiracy is quite well known. Medici is a famous enough name that it's not easily forgotten.

[ The answer is acceptable enough to Hannibal, at least. It answers the question of what he was looking to figure out, because unless Ezio is being more careful with his words, it sounds innocuous enough. Or at least, it's not being dragged off a cliff to your probable death. Hannibal had thought on the train that this was the afterlife, and he's still unsure about whether that's the case or not.

But, the more people he meets, the more he thinks it doesn't matter. It's real enough. He's having this experience now of speaking with a man from history, and it doesn't matter to him too much why that is. ]

Then, to be frank, I can only come to a conclusion that seems quite impossible. I know of Medici, da Vinci, Machiavelli, but they are all men of the past for me. The distant past, as I am a student of history. I have no explanation for it. But I would assume it is not the year 2015 for you, signore.

Another told me the year was 2011, so it seems to be different for us all. But it was 1488 when I left. The Crusades are history. These men, the conspiracy, Firenze, it is all my present.

[While he can't imagine what it's like to speak with someone from the past, he knows the realization of the different time periods was overwhelming at first for him. Still, there's something that doesn't seem quite right.]

But Machiavelli, really? You know of him in your time? Leonardo and Lorenzo I can understand, but... I've done more with my life than he has. He's hardly lived it, after all.

[ Hannibal is at least glad to not have to be the one to deal with the dissonance here, because while it's present for himself, it's also largely overwhelmed by intellectual fascination. It's ironic enough to be funny that he would meet a man from Florence in precisely the sort of time period he had interest in, but he tries to keep that humor to himself. ]

Because he has not come to fame yet in 1488. He is—becomes—quite famous for a treatise he writes. I would even call it a foundational work of Western literature.

[ And one that Hannibal personally enjoys. It's not quite what drew him to the city, but it was certainly a part of the art that captured his imagination. Florence was so rich with it that it was one among many. ]

Though I will admit, I would know more than most. One of the reasons I came to Florence was to teach, after all. Dante Alighieri was often the subject of my lectures, but the history of the Italian arts in broad strokes is an interest and specialty of mine.

I'll take your word for it, for now.

[In his time, Machiavelli was only 19 years old, yet he acted like he knew everything about the Brotherhood. It was frustrating at times.]

Ah, my great-great-grandfather actually studied under Dante Alighieri. He had a great influence on my family from my understanding. It's... strange to hear of all this, but there's something interesting about it as well. Is it safe to assume, though, that the Auditore name never came up in your lectures or even your own studies?

[Ezio asks if he's almost disappointed as most people would be if all of their friends had become famous and they hadn't. Yet he knew his name, his family, their true purpose... None of that could be known. Even Domenico Auditore had known that, as he left their history behind in a crypt below Monteriggioni.]

As strange and interesting as it is for me to meet a man in the flesh whose family studied under Dante.

[ He does seem quietly excited about it to some degree. It's pretty clear that Hannibal is a man whose emotions tend to come in softer degrees or naturally run cool, but his smile conveys his fascination easily. ]

But no, it has not, I am afraid. I only know it as a very municipality in the Province of Pesaro e Urbino. I have passed through it once or twice, but I'm afraid I know nothing of the namesake.

How unfortunate. I would've liked to become some historical hero, but I guess it wasn't meant to be. I doubt that municipality has anything to do with my family, at least... those I am familiar with.

[Ezio laughs, though some of his own words are nagging at him. His future isn't something he's used to thinking about, aside from things like planning to kill the Pope.]

Although you might not be my first choice for who to spend the night with, I think we'll get along fine, Signor Lecter. I hope you won't mind my occasional questions about the future, mostly to do with inventions... but you can also feel free to ask me about my time and I will do my best to answer.

[ Hannibal doesn't offer anything to the first part, though he does tuck the idea away. He can imagine it would be strange to know your friends were lauded in history, while you fell to obscurity at best, but it's nothing he feels the need to pick on just yet. Though the fact that he calls himself a hero is just as much a little detail that Hannibal tucks away. People that call themselves heroes tend to be very interesting people.

But that's all well underneath the surface of pleased politeness. He nods lightly as Ezio mentions questions of the future, and he beats him to what he had planned to ask in return. ]

That is all I would ask. As a scholar, it's quite fascinating. I will attempt not to bore you too much with my questions that may seem quite inane.

[ He looks to Ezio's wrists as he continues to indicate the blades hidden there. ]

I would be glad to answer any questions you may have. You've quite an interesting invention yourself, so the interest may be mutual.

I can be a bit of a scholar myself from time to time, so do not worry. I can understand the curiosity, and I don't doubt my questions will seem obvious to you in turn.

[He flicks his wrist again, and the blade pops out once more. One more flick, and it's gone. His gestures are practiced to the point of being second nature.]

It's not as interesting as you may think. It's a weapon, I could have easily been given my sword or dagger instead. As for my questions... hm.

[Hannibal's lucky he hasn't seen the toilet or shower yet, since he would be asking about that.]

Would it be safe to assume people in the future are less likely to carry weapons on their person? But also that... those handheld firearms, those are a more popular choice, no?

[ WEEK ONE – ARRIVAL ]

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