Three | My Confidence Shaken

[eaglesonofnone]

WHO: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad
WHERE: South Village
WHEN: December 3-ish
OPEN TO: One on the path in, anyone afterward.
WARNINGS: Most likely some frank discussion of mental health.

---

Flickers of Doubt: (Now locked to Shiro.)

His trip to the Bunker had taken a deliberately long time. The device called a 'pod' promised a faster trip - he'd read that in the village codex - but that particular mode of transportation was limited to those who could swim. That excluded him. In the end, though, that mattered little. He'd needed the time as much as he'd wanted to investigate. And even once he'd gotten there, he'd found more reason to take time, more reason to walk slowly, to take the lay of the land, to practice climbing trees and, one night when he'd tried to start a small campfire, learn to control the sudden appearance of an ability that he never could've predicted. He didn't like it, but it wasn't the first thing about this place he hadn't liked.

Altaïr had taken care to spend a shorter amount of time in the Bunker than he'd truly wanted. The arrival of Evie Frye had taken him by surprise, but it had been a second incident the likes of which he couldn't afford to recur. Once, he'd been convinced there would be no afterlife. Now, he was convinced this was no afterlife, but this new youth kept his past on his mind. He could remember with too much clarity, felt heartsore for those he had left behind who hadn't gotten this chance. There were people here he cared for, and while that was a gift he wouldn't overlook, he couldn't help but wonder why he was here but poor Sef, dear Malik, his love Maria... Why had this been denied to them?

And so he had walked. He had thought, he had walked, he had given himself the time to mourn all over again. And he had cemented in his mind that Takashi was not Malik through he could make use of Malik's lessons, and that Miss Frye was not Maria, no matter how strong the resemblance and the accent. He had begun to make plans for instructing Takashi in Malik's methods, and to speak with Evie with the respect she was due rather than the unfortunate familiarity their first meeting had taken.

With his emotions back on a steady footing, he returned to the Village, his pace one that could easily have been sustained for days. At the least, he could say that his stamina had returned and he was confident in his ability to stay on the move as he once did long ago. At the best, he felt like he could have more honesty in his interactions with the people who now counted on him. And that was definitely an improvement.

Regained Confidence:

He knew he owed multiple apologies and they would be words gladly given, but now that he had gone to his home, washed both himself and his clothes, and had a chance to dry both, he stepped back out into the village. There were more arrivals here than he'd expected while he'd been gone - more people to speak with, to check on, and if he wasn't the only one with the ability to call fire to his hands, he didn't doubt there were people to reassure or perhaps even make certain they had a roof over their heads whether they were a new arrival or not.

With Connor in his house, he didn't think offering space would be wise, but he could offer to look around with anyone, to see if any of the other houses would suit them, and to help clear the dust.

Comments

Doubt

[rebornpaladin]

It's a palpable relief to see Altair on the path into the village. Even with the sudden influx of new faces as Shiro endeavored to familiarize himself with the ones already present, the man's absence had been noticeable, and from what Shiro's come to understand, could have meant anything, including that he was simply gone.

His right coat sleeves is cuffed about to the elbow, and the coveralls beneath it just to the top of his boots, and as surreal as this place is, Shiro feels a little more... lived in, now, than in the days after his arrival. He raises a hand in greeting, too far to shout one with any discretion, before walking across the grass to greet Altair, smile genuine if not much easier than it lately has been.

"Wondered where you'd gotten to."

[eaglesonofnone]

"Takashi," he greeted with a slow nod. There was no longer the pang he'd had when first seeing the man, the immediate wish for Malik's presence. It was still there - always would be there, as mourning was not something that simply ended - but now he was able to see with eyes more ready to tell the difference one from another. "My intention was never to make anyone worry. My apologies. The decision to explore was rather abrupt, I know. I... am afraid I needed the time."

Altaïr did look a little more settled in his skin than he had been at their first meeting, to say the least - not to mention the short time afterward. He'd kept attending the sick until it was obvious they would improve, but then his own whirling thoughts had needed privacy and quiet. And there was no longer an Apple full of discoveries to put all of those thoughts to rest.

[rebornpaladin]

"No apology necessary," Shiro assures him, even as his eyes narrow just slightly with an attentiveness that could easily slip into concern, if warranted.

"Are you all right?"

[eaglesonofnone]

"I am..." Honesty, he reminded himself, and after an exhale he finished: "I am as best as can be expected. I have had to face some uncomfortable thoughts of late, and needed the time to reconcile them in my mind."

Not that they were wholly reconciled, he realised. There was still a part of him that looked at Shiro and thought of Malik. Still a part of him that found it easier to trust him than was his normal state. If he draped a Dai's robes around Takashi's shoulders, he doubted he would be able to stop himself from saying everything that was in his mind. For the best, then, that there were no robes to hand.

[rebornpaladin]

They can hardly be said to be close, but in those first moments - hours, days - of Shiro's arrival, Altair was unfailingly kind. Shiro isn't sure he can offer what the man needs, but he can certainly make the attempt, at least. To listen, if nothing else. God knew that had been what his team, what the people closest to him, had needed more than anything else, at times, even if there was no ready solution.

"That doesn't sound totally unfamiliar," he says, with a mild wryness. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Regained Confidence

[skyward_eyes]

Truly, Nida was starting to think that he'd somehow managed to curse his luck without having junctions to the stat. Because as he was walking down the path, off once more toward the far side of the village to check out the more distant public buildings, he found himself once again faced by a flash of silvery fur. Ice mouse. Nida cursed and almost immediately jumped onto an exposed rock near the side of the path.

It wasn't that he was afraid of mice, quite the opposite. The thing would be frightfully cute if it wasn't, well, it. The last time he'd run into one of the things it had frozen his pack seconds after he had climbed out of the fountain. His second run-in had been less in person and more trying to comfort (was that even the right term with how calm she was) 7 after she burned her house down trying to get rid of one. And now here was one, sitting on its hindlegs, looking up at him and quivering its whiskers.

The thing didn't even have the dignity to pretend to be more afraid of him than he was of it. How dare the little silvery beast...

The mouse, clearly with malice of aforethought, jumped at him and Nida didn't move nearly fast enough. A brief brush of it's tail as it scurried up over the rock and down past it, left Nida as part of the trail of ice in its wake, fully encased in far too much cold. Oh, and a lack of air. Suffocation, was he really going out encased in ice?

[eaglesonofnone]

He had seen the burned-out house, had heard murmurs of ice springing up in the wake of mouse trails--

But upon seeing a person encased in ice? His heart immediately raced as he ran forward, first looking for something to use to break the ice but then remembering--

Now wasn't it an interesting coincidence that he could call fire in time to save people from ice? Enough of one that he doubted it to be coincidence at all.

With utmost care, Altaïr approached the ice block, only able to tell after he got closer that it contained a young man, and spoke as if he could be heard, "Be calm."

And then he focused that fire ability on melting the ice around the man's nose and mouth as air, he knew, was vital and so long as he could breathe, the rest could be managed. He had to take extra caution, knowing that skin was sensitive and easily burnt, especially on the face.

[skyward_eyes]

Well, at least someone could see him. Nida watched the man running closer, unable to even blink. Perhaps he would call for help. Perhaps he might just make sure Nida wasn't alone while...

Oh. Fire. Nida would show the relief on his face were it at all possible to move said face. His lungs were already starting to protest the strain but Nida tried to keep himself from panicking. Either things would go well or they wouldn't. Hyne only knew which it would be.

And then the man was just enough through to expose Nida's nose and he sucked in air. Not much, of course, his diaphragm could hardly expand when he was frozen like this, but it was enough. 'Calm' was a relative term at this point. His heart was still racing, his blood crashing through his veins as his body temperature started to drop. Quickly. There was still a lot of danger here, but he could breathe in quick, shallow breaths. It might seem like panicking, because he couldn't breathe normally, but he tried the best he could. Struggling would achieve nothing for a while.

Once enough was thawed to uncover his mouth Nida tried to speak, again a hard thing to do when you couldn't move your jaw, but he would power through.

"Chest first," he advised the other man, not caring about the slight burn of his lips or the tip of his nose. "Good here. Not panicking."

He needed to be able to breathe more deeply, and he needed his core warmed up more than anything else. Too cold and your heart just out right stopped.

[eaglesonofnone]

"Of course," he answered swiftly, and then he was daring to take a bit less care. Enough to work quickly and cautiously at once, as clothing, even here, could be replaced while a person could not. He let more flame leave his hands, the fire stronger, the ice melting more quickly, growing thinner to the point where he could press his hand in between person and ice and pull off chunks, making it splinter and fracture - and giving ribs vital room to expand.

After that, he moved to the man's back and did much the same. It still took time, but after he was less encased, it would grow easier. He could get the man inside somewhere, where a hearth could help him work.

Regained Confidence

[to_defend]

There may be apologies in the future if he happens to catch sight of 7's house before he catches sight of her, but when she sees him she smiles warmly and trots up, spear in hand. The aftermath of the fire had left her dealing with no small amount of self-doubt (although as she practiced with her newfound fire-powers, that doubt was beginning to diminish slightly), but seeing one of her favored people helped put a little lightness back in her gait.

"Hey, you disappeared for a bit. Good to see you back and still in one piece." She's not one to judge if someone skips out without a word; she's at to do the same at any given moment. "Did you do anything fun?"

[eaglesonofnone]

He reached out to greet her with a squeeze to her shoulders. He had seen her house, but hadn't precisely known it was hers. All he knew was that he was glad to see her in one piece. "I went to see the Bunker," he answered, "and took the long way back. I had much to think about, but I believe I'm feeling better now.

"And what of you? How are you, Bnti?"

[to_defend]

She reaches up to squeeze a hand on his forearm, a brief darkness passing over her features as he asks about her.

"I'm here. I, uh, moved in with Eddie." That's a normal thing that people did, right? Shift and move and cohabitate? She knew others did so she's hoping it won't be too out of odds.

"What was the bunker like?"

[eaglesonofnone]

That she'd moved had his brows raising, but he nodded his acceptance without query. He called her Bnti, but he had no doubts she knew her own mind. Her question, however, had him near-sighing. "It was more confusing than I anticipated. When I return, I will need to bring someone along with me - someone with a greater understanding of these things from my future. Of what they mean and how to use them. I was limited by my own ignorance."

Regained Confidence

[ombranera]

"I have you now, beast!" Not much of one by any stretch of the imagination- but a little ice mouse does dart across the hard packed dirt, scurrying to the safety of the porch just across the way. No daggers on hand, no darts, no arrows- but a quickly flicked pebble sparked with flame (something Zevran is still learning to control) had him herding the creature away from the house and doubling back, heading for the woods.

For now.

"And don't let me see your tiny face here again!" He'd not lost the fish he'd caught but it'd been frustrating trying to clean them while half frozen. It is only then that Zevran realizes he has an audience by way of-

Well.

A rather attractive man indeed. "Ah-"

[eaglesonofnone]

It was quite the display he witnessed, the mouse scurrying away, a small man having shouted after it as if the little beast could understand. It was enough to have a hint of a smirk lingering around his lips, the closest thing to laughter he'd yet given. "I see you are teaching the rodents their proper place. Perhaps you could do with some tools more efficient than pebbles and flame."

[ombranera]

"No, you see- these mice are vile little beasts. Whatever they touch- well perhaps not everything but look-" He pointed to the grass the thing had brushed up against on the way back to the wood- a perfectly frosted over trail. "Covers it in ice. Plant, animal, person- I am trying to keep them from peoples homes."

A most noble effort. Honestly? It was a way to fill the hours and perhaps master this new fire trick.

[eaglesonofnone]

It was taking more effort not to laugh. But he managed it, saying, "I am aware of their talents, and was not intending sarcasm. I only thought a throwing knife would do you more good. You have skill in such things."

He knew a throwing hand when he saw one, and this man - small as he was - was trained. He could also tell by the look of him that he was grown. Small, but not a child. His ears were confusing, but as things went, that was a small detail.

Regained Confidence

[moderndayassassin]

Desmond was still confident that this place was one of a few options: complete madness, the Bleeding Effect, the Animus, or the afterlife. He'd only just gotten there and it was all a little eerie. It seemed strange that his mind would come up with these hallucinations of people he'd never seen before, and he avoided them anyway. The Animus purgatory had been really specific, and it didn't fit this style, but that was only one example. Basically, this was all suspect. Connor's existence only made him more anxious.

He was reluctantly leaving the empty house he claimed because he was starting to get hungry, and he could continue to ignore people if necessary. He missed having his hoodie, where he could pull the hood up over his face and people mostly left him alone. Desmond was on his way to the inn when he very clearly saw someone he knew even better than Connor, although Connor was more recent. He really did consider stopping in his tracks, turning back around, and starving to death if this place would let him, but why not join in more of the madness at this point?

"First Connor and now you, Altaïr, this is getting ----" Whatever else he planned on saying was ruined when he felt something scurrying down below. Confused, Desmond looked down in time to see a rodent of some kind running across his feet ... and his entire body was encased in ice. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, and fuck he was going to die again, wasn't he?

[eaglesonofnone]

The curse that Altaïr used was not one he often uttered. Twice now he'd seen people frozen, head to toe, after an encounter with these little creatures. They were more menacing than a mouse should ever be. He ran forward, keeping his questions about just how the man knew his name (after all, he had been introducing himself quite frequently here, so he may simply be known) in favour of using the strange power he'd learned to start melting the ice first away from the man's mouth and nose, and then his chest so it could expand with each breath. His practice with Nida came in handy, giving him a better measurement by which to judge speed and intensity of what would be allowable. "Stay calm. I will have you free - just... likely not as quickly as you would prefer."

He'd mentioned Connor. Perhaps it was Connor who had--

But no. 'First Connor and now you,' he'd said. As if they'd met.

When he looked at the man's face, even with the ice in the way, he had to admit a resemblance. They both bore nearly the same scar. The man's hair was as dark as his. Skin nearly the same brown. Hm. Odd. Was it--

Could he be... Darim's? Sef's? But the bit of hope that surged at that was something he squashed down ruthlessly. No. He had learned that lesson already.

[moderndayassassin]

This was way, way too close to home with when Juno entirely took over his body and made him move when he didn't want to. Except he was frozen, not moved, but still. It was triggering. Desmond did not have an easy time staying calm or patient in any situation. Internally he was wildly trying to move and struggle, do anything that would get him free without help, but it wasn't happening. He tried to listen to Altaïr. It wasn't working. Nothing was working.

Desmond had a strange way of looking quite a bit like his ancestors depending on who was standing near him. His features looked just enough like each of them that people might guess correctly they were related. He had a much harder time rationalizing right now how he was crazy because he didn't think he'd come up with mice that froze people alive in his brain. He wasn't that creative.

Still struggling, something seemed to click in his mind whether he knew it or not, and flames were called to his fingers encased in the ice. Desmond was just as shocked at the fact he was doing that than being frozen. What. WHAT. At the least it was starting to help melt the ice around his own arms, and with Altaïr helping at the other parts, it was starting to work. The second he was able to move his arms he used the fire more, and by the end of it, he was panting and out of breath. More from keeping in his panic than anything else.

He stumbled back away from Altaïr, his hands still on fire, and he shook his hands over and over to see if they would just be put out. "What the fuck." His afterlife was bullshit.

[eaglesonofnone]

Ah, good - the ability was his as well. With that aid given, it made Altaïr's job all the easier, and once the man was free--

Well, at least he had grown used to that degree of cursing from Hawke. The English vocabulary of curses seemed a bit limited to him, though. So very little of it involved genitalia, bad smells, and dogs.

All the same, he answered, "I could not tell you. This place has been one confusion after another since my arrival.

"I would introduce myself, but it seems you already know my name."

[winswars]

Connor hadn't spent much time in the house he now shared with Altair - but honestly, that wasn't overly unusual. The Manor on the hill was his home, yes, but he didn't actually spend much of his life there, always away in either Boston or New York, or venturing out into the frontier.

When Altair finally returns, however, he'll be sitting outside, on the steps that lead up to the front porch of their small home. There a knife in his hand, and he's carefully whittling away at a large, slender piece of wood that he had found at the nearby mill, fashioning the beginnings of a longbow from the larger block.

The approaching footsteps catch his attention, despite how quiet they are, there's something to him that he's entirely familiar with.

"There is food in the kitchen if you are hungry." No actual greeting and no questions as to where Altair had actually been. Occasionally silence was needed.

[eaglesonofnone]

"You have my gratitude, Akhi," he answered with utmost sincerity. "It has been a long walk, and with the cold, plants are harder to find. But I see you've begun a bow."

Good, he thought - and then the idea occurred to him. "If you've not yet, you could seek out a woman who goes by Hawke. She is a practiced archer and I count her as a Sister of the Order. The two of you may have much in common."

He was hungry, yes, but more than hungry, he was finding himself to be tired. As such, he approached and slowly sat on the same step as Connor, letting himself settle and rest. His fellow Assassin had a steady hand, he saw, and was practiced at crafting. Between him and Hawke, there was a good chance he could improve his archery skills, though his knifework was still better by far.

[winswars]

"I have been fortunate enough to meet her. Although I did not know that she was so skilled." He had been far too distracted by the overt friendliness and trying to figure out the device that had been placed upon his wrist.

"I will seek her out. Perhaps we may be of help to each other." Winter was coming, and while he didn't have the fall months to hunt and accumulate game as he may have otherwise, there were still animals that might be found during the lean months. If nothing else the pelts would be useful.

"Are you intent on reforming our order here then?" Only now did he glance over from his work, giving Altair his attention for as long as he spoke before returning to it.

[eaglesonofnone]

Altaïr sighed, slow and thoughtful. "That is a question I cannot truly answer. From the time when I realised what we should be, as Assassins, it became my purpose to spread our Creed and our beliefs, to find the places where people need the Brotherhood to help them fight for freedom. And what is this place but a prettily dressed prison?

"In the end..." He shook his head, spreading his hands before him. "It matters little to me. I was an old man. I was dying. If I am returned from whence I came, only my death awaits. Yet so many here - such as you - are here at your strongest; when life is spread out before you like an unfinished tapestry, waiting for your hands to weave as they will. It seems I cannot help but spread our ideals as I believe they offer a foundation that helps people find and give kindness that may otherwise wither. I catch myself teaching without having intended it - and yet, the lessons seem to fall on eager ears."