[MINGLE] Worried/Sick 1: Symptoms Manifest & Reaction

[sixthiteration]

WHERE: Anywhere; multiple locations
WHEN: Apx. 13-18 November
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Serious illness and reactions to such

IMPORTANT NOTES: This is the first of two mingles. Please see the timing and general event details here.

Illness Presents and Putting Heads Together will have their own top-levels in this post, but you may make separate top-levels for whatever you like! Anything is welcome, as long as it tangentially relates to the Worried/Sick plot.

Please keep in mind the established plot details, but creative license is welcome and encouraged as long as it doesn't step on toes.

Comments

[eaglesonofnone]

In a way, there was something reassuring about hearing no footsteps before hearing a voice. It put a momentary, if fleeting, smile on his lips. For a moment, he could imagine she was sent by Malik, told that if she could surprise the Mentor, there would be a reward.

But his nerves were too solid for him to jump in startle or surprise. Or perhaps too complacent. A part of his mind still expected reflexes like those of the age he truly claimed.

"It may, but I am unsure if I would give it such trust after the things I saw at the mine. It seems similar - but seeming is all I can suppose. Unless you mean the water." Altaïr looked up at her. "Which only helps any of this illness a short while. Safety and peace."

[tothefly]

Not jumping is just as telling as jumping, in some places and situations, and this is one of those, to her. She doesn't like to jump to conclusions, but it's still something useful to note. His observations of the flower are less useful, but still something, and she drops to a crouch of her own just outside of arm's reach to get a closer look at the plant, and maybe a better look at him, too. "I was hoping you'd have a better answer," she says, a hint of wryness around the edges of her voice matching the faint smile on her lips. "I'm still working on the local plant life, and I don't want to bring anything back I'm not sure of. At least we know the water does something." Even if it's not quite enough.

She doesn't like jumping to conclusions, but the greeting combined with his looks, the edges of an accent lead her to make at least a small one. Her Farsi is better than her Arabic, but the latter is still passable enough to try for a greeting and some basic conversation. "Peace be unto you," she offers in the same, watching for a reaction.

[eaglesonofnone]

Though he wore his ghutrah and iqal, his face was bare enough to see - something he was growing used to, though he still missed seeing the point of a hood over his head. He'd at least grown more accustomed to the more elaborate folds he'd had to wear from time to time and had it arranged in one now, keeping it from falling into his face when he bent. His skin was a soft brown, lighter than most Arabic natives, but his hair and beard were just as black as could be expected. Most notable, though, were eyes that stood out as almost vibrantly yellow in their paleness. "Wa ʿalaykumu as-salām," he answered. "I had hoped to have a better answer as well, but everything here seems one step to the side of what I've seen throughout my life. Tony mentioned a young man named Peter who has an interest in such things. I may speak to him about testing more of the local flora.

"Please, pardon me," he interrupted himself, though, and bowed his head in a nod of greeting. "I have forgotten introductions. I am Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad."

[tothefly]

He's definitely a striking man, and not one she's met before. There's also a faint hint to his dialect that makes her think they might not share a timeline, either, though she's less familiar with regional dialects and might be mistaken. Either way, he's polite, and friendly enough, and she smiles briefly at his talk of different circumstances. "I'm more familiar with difficult and strange circumstances than I sometimes think I'd like to be, but it's been useful lately," she admits, and his introduction is received with a graceful incline of her head.

"Natasha Romanoff. I was heading to the spring for more water for the sick. Are you headed that way, or back again?"

[eaglesonofnone]

"The same," he said with a polite nod, picking up the buckets he had found. "I am concerned at the quickness with which this illness is spreading. Were this my home, I would suspect fungus in the grain or bad water, but as we have all eaten and drank of the same supply, it makes little sense. I can only hope a true relief is found before lives are lost."

It had happened before. He'd seen illness take Masyaf and had only escaped it by being sent on some mission or other, thus being removed from the possible communication. It would not pay to be ill when there were missions to complete.

"And I had thought to wash sheets and air houses of those who are ill as well. In hopes of their return, and to make certain none of the linens hold the illness."

[tothefly]

"There has to be a common factor. I'm sure our medical personnel will figure it out. I know Doctor Banner won't rest until he's got an answer and a cure for the sick." To the irritation and worry of those who care about him, Natasha included. He can't find a cure if he's collapsing from exhaustion. But she can't just stay and talk him into it, especially when she's just as concerned, just as ready for some kind of answer, pushing herself for long stretches to do anything she can to help. Steve's sick. Tony's down, too. Barnes isn't. Neither is Wanda. She can't find a pattern.

His suggestions get an approving nod as she stands again. "That's a good idea. Would you mind another pair of hands? I've been doing what I can at the hospital, but I'm not a doctor." Or anything remotely close.

[eaglesonofnone]

"I have been doing the same," he agreed, "but I feel we're nearing a cure, and if these people return to their homes to find the sweat of sickness still in their beds..." Altaïr shook his head. "I will be more than grateful for the assistance. I am used to washing my own clothes, but so many linens are beyond me. I had thought to wash, remake the beds, air out the rooms, and then build a fire in each for warmth - give them a proper home to return to."

Not a terrible amount of work, but enough that it would be challenging for one man to accomplish. To have help would be more than worthwhile.

"More than once, my village had an illness sweep through. Fortune favoured me in that I was never one of the ill, but I remember the boiling vats for clothing and sheets and rugs. The Citadel was wreathed in steam for a week or more each time."

[tothefly]

"It's a lot of work for one man," she agrees. Honestly, she could use the busywork, and it's a good cause. Plus, not that she'd say as much, but a good reason to poke around houses of other villagers, just a little. Not to pry, just to see what was what. "There's usually soap left out at the butcher's for washing, if you want to stop there, on the way back from the springs."

Her bucket in her hands, she waits for him to rise, too, so they can continue on. "I think I'm a little after your time, if we're from the same version of Earth," she says after a moment, and it's funny how easy those words get to say after the first half-dozen times. "Don't think I've heard of a specific location called the Citadel, at least not one that's still called that."

[eaglesonofnone]

"I do not believe our worlds are the same," he said, dragging each bucket to fill it completely. "As I understand it, there were some differences in the time between my life and yours. The Citadel itself is the citadel of Masyaf - a village in the Ash-Shaam, or the Levant as the Europeans call it. We were an independent nation between both sides of the Crusades."

It was an area that would eventually be called Syria. He had a few hints of that, but he knew it by its own name.

"My people were the Nizari Ismaili, and our leaders tended to grow into the name 'The Old Man of the Mountain'. I did, whether I wished it or not." The look he gave her was wry. "I dealt well enough with 'mentor.' I had no wish to be the Old Man of the Mountain, but so I became."

Altaïr motioned toward the path. "But it is a good idea to stop for the soap. I certainly agree."