sixthiterationlogs | One | Altaïr Can't Swim (it's a trending tag on AO3)

WHO: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad
WHERE: South Village fountain
WHEN: Beginning October 28
OPEN TO: Anyone who wants to find a half-drowned and confused Assassin.
WARNINGS: Arabic cursing. (Both cursing in Arabic and an Arabic man cursing.)

Water.

It would permanently be his bane.

He had expected his afterlife to be anything but that, if he was to have one at all. After all he'd seen, he'd more suspected that after death came nothing. A lack of existence. An ending, and nothing more. If he ascribed to the Christian notions, he would surely be relegated to their hell for the lives he'd taken, and for a moment, it occurred to him that this was it. A form of eternal torment by the water filling his lungs, his hands finding no purchase. Was he to spend the rest of time dying over and over again in water?

But his body had panicked for him. Fighting against the water, struggling, flailing wildly and completely without skill. He could feel his lungs burning from what he'd inhaled before he'd begun to hold his breath, the ache of a cough wanting to break free but he knew that if he opened his mouth, only more water would rush in--

He coughed. His lungs filled further, and fear took hold of his heart. No. No, he could not spend eternity this way, dying again and again with what looked like sky past the water's surface. Again, he coughed. His lungs were getting heavier, his vision dimmer. No!

And then--

And then, even in the depths, he could breathe, except it... it wasn't breathing. Water was still passing into him, but his vision began to clear and his limbs felt less sluggish and his mind slowly climbed away from the base reactions of survival toward true and rational thought.

He was breathing water. How?

His mind sought reasons, but with his calm came buoyancy. He began to rise toward the surface, a hand reaching out toward the nearest wall, touching stone, able to use it to push upward, and when he broke free and took hold of the stone with his entire arms, he bent over it. He coughed once, twice, water pouring from his mouth and nose in a painful rush, but then he was breathing air. Clear, cool air.

Willpower pulled him over the edge, onto the ground, where he laid on his stomach and relished the simple act of breathing. He'd been short of breath for years, coughing with any exertion, but never had it felt so horrible as that. "Al'ama," he groaned, head turned sideways to rest on the ground before, with excruciating slowness, he pushed himself up to sit. "'Ana kabir fi alsini lihadha."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That makes Ashley blink. "Uhmmm, no. Nope. This is the age I was last I remembered before this place. It.. I... It will sound so stupid. Or weird." Not so weird in her life, but she is glad to have learned that what she gained is this place and not her father's blood showing.

She speaks softly, thinking about what he's saying and not sure what to think of it.

"There's a lot that can happen here I can't explain. Not sure how to explain it but I can show you some of the things I've seen here though. None of them said anything about age or anything though," she admits, folding her arms and looking him over. "It's probably their best stunt, I have to say."

"I would be very grateful to see some accounting of this place," he agreed. "Especially if it can take a man who felt his own heart slowing to a stop and give him back more than fifty years."

The way she looked at him was... unusual, he decided, but not something he wanted to remark upon. He wasn't sure what to make of it, truly. It wasn't a look he'd been given before. One he wasn't sure how to react to. So he simply let it be. Maybe he would figure it out in time.

"Honestly? I'm not sure I can help you. My mother has lived well past her lifetime,' she admits in a low voice. "I know people that have died and still live so... Whatever this place can do, it's not that entirely odd as my world might seem."

She gives him a bright smile then. "But could be worse things than finding out you got your life back?" She knows it's not easy, and she's dealt with her fair share of weirdness, but silver linings and all?

A woman living well past her lifetime? Interesting, and something he would have to ask about, especially if their situations were similar. It would be worth drawing parallels. As it stood, though, he had only this knowledge: that he was young once more when, by definition, he shouldn't be.

"It's true - this is not a disappointment," he said, though. "A surprise. A confusion, yes, but... as fates go, there are worse things than to regain youth at the moment of death. Even if it makes me wonder."

"It's kind of nice to know this place does something right for people," she says, thinking it nice to do that for this man. Even if she's instantly wondering why, what it benefits them to do this for him. Not that she can know yet that she herself was saved in much the same way. She didn't get infected, and didn't get turned on those she has worked hard to protect.

"Yeah well, it's something to think about and look into," she says. "I mean, why would they do that and what do they get for it?"

"They?" he echoed, catching that word. The context was interesting, and it brought to light something he'd yet to think about. So far, he'd considered the work of an artifact like the Apple, if not the Apple itself. But a 'they'? That made things infinitely more concerning. He knew of a very dangerous 'they', after all, and if this mysterious 'they' had brought in an Assassin - him, especially - he had to maintain his suspicion.

"Mysterious general they," she admits, shrugging. "I mean, someone has to be behind all of this, right? And that someone is likely not working on their own to make all of this work. So they. I think most refer to them as the observers, but I'm not sure where it started, of it the context means they think they're watching us all the time."

Which she has considered. More than once.

Observers.

It sounded a bit too familiar. He sent a glance toward the sky, as if he understood something nebulous - but then shook his head. "I am used to such scrutiny," he said. "In many ways. I will cope with this as well, though not without a sensible amount of suspicion. But then." He gave her a look, the corners of his eyes showing a touch of humour that he didn't entirely feel. "Isn't that sensible for most things?"

"Well, in fairness, if you're going to be suspicious? Everything I'm saying could be a lie, and a set up. Trust me. I've thought it a few times," she admits, though maybe not the best thing to help this newcomer adjust to this place. "But for now I'm doing my best to trust most because we don't have may other choices.

"Though you're right. Definitely sensible. Though I kind of had that drummed into my head since I was a kid."

And she knows it keeps her distant from people, especially here, but it's kept her alive long enough as well. Though learning why made it easier to understand, but not easier to overcome that distance she's put between herself and others.

He motioned to their surroundings. "I have no doubts that much of this will not be as it seems. I have seen too much in all my years to take any information without evaluating it for myself. However, I have no reason to refuse courtesy, to offer rudeness in the face of those who will first offer help. You may be lying - but as yet, I've no reason to believe you are. Suspicion is good, to the point where it makes its own obstacles.

"But enough talk of unpleasant things for now. Is there a place where I can get warm and dry? The chill isn't so troubling, but to prolong it may be."

"Oh. Yes." She winces, shaking her head at her own folly. "I'm sorry. I should have thought of that first. Come on. There's the inn, where you can get a room and a shower, hang your clothes out to dry and get some warm food," she says, giving a jerk of her head and turning.

"Come on, it's that building right there," she says, gesturing. "I'll show you around."

One | Altaïr Can't Swim (it's a trending tag on AO3)

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