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

[eaglesonofnone]

Altaïr gave him a small smile. "I said similar to Darim in the months before I passed. I had thought that I had finally reached a place in my life where I could put everything behind me. That I had done all I would need to do." But he shook his head, looking around at the village surrounding them. "I do not know, now, if I will ever be finished. But that may be my story. That of a man never satisfied with the world, insisting he knows how to better it whether or not he truly does.

"I told a friend not long ago that I am not built for having fun. For letting things be. When I first came, I thought that I was wrong about there being no afterlife. Now, I don't know what to think, except that I have found people to care about here, and I would do for them what I can."

[moderndayassassin]

"That's pretty self-aware, Altaïr, you've come a long way from the first time I saw you ...." Desmond paused and then furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait you're obviously from when you were an old man, all wise and talking about Darim, but you look young. What's up with that?" Okay, he should have picked up on that sooner, but it'd been a long few days. Desmond was really convinced now this was the afterlife. It'd have to be. No one would want to be old in the afterlife, so they'd just look like they were in their prime. Well, that was fine. Things could be much worse than talking with his ancestors.

"Eh," Desmond waved a hand. "Maybe your definition of fun is different. I know people who like to play video games for fun, or go drinking for fun, or you know, kill bad guys for fun. So it's really an eye of the beholder type of thing." Desmond liked bartending. That was fun for him. He liked the job, he liked the normalcy, and while he was solitary even then, it was a healthy way to get out into the world. Now he had no idea what to do.

[eaglesonofnone]

Looking down at himself, Altaïr shook his head. It was a question that had been asked many times, not least by him. "I do not know," he answered on an exhale. "Since I arrived in the fountain, nearly dying as I reached the surface, I have been this age once more. I am glad I'm not the age I appear to be. When I was this young, I was not a man worth knowing."

The look he gave Desmond said clearly that he knew that was the age he referred to.

"Much of my learning came too late. But had it come sooner, there is no way to know what would have happened. What Rashid would have placed in motion."

[moderndayassassin]

Desmond looked back at him and then shook his head. "I think you're being too hard on yourself. You wouldn't have gotten to where you were if you didn't have that past." He shrugged but then reluctantly continued. "I may be relating a little. I lost my way for awhile. I was angry too. Uh, still am, mostly." He wasn't so sure if lost his way was the correct way of putting it, but in his last message to his dad, he said that, and it sort of felt right too. In the start he was reluctant to help anyone other than himself. "I really wanted to be normal. I left the Order for awhile. I paid for it though."

Not with his life, that was when he actually got his shit together. "The Templars kidnapped me to use my DNA to spy on you. If I was still with the Assassins, that would've never happened." Or they would've attacked the assassins until they found him, because they knew by then he was the key to some answers. But if they got rid of him after his memories that first time, the world would be destroyed now. He felt a wave of weariness. "That's behind us now, though. No more war here."

[eaglesonofnone]

Altaïr watched him and, though it was brief, he reached out to squeeze his grandson's shoulder. "You are more like me than you could know. I almost left the Order myself. I was ready to walk away and leave it all behind; the weapons, the teachers, Al Mualim... I do not think I would have regretted it, but such things are impossible to know in any way but supposition." He sighed. "The life is not an easy one. None can blame you for wanting a different way. We wish one another safety and peace, but rarely acknowledge that seldom do we Assassins truly find either."

[moderndayassassin]

"It's different in the future. The Templars have all the power now, the Assassins are barely holding on. I didn't really believe in any of it. I'm still not sure if I do." That last part was hard to admit when he's talking to Altaïr himself, but Desmond also wanted to be honest with him. He wasn't sure if being a part of a new Order here, if that was something that would ever happen, was what he was up for anyway. "No offense, it's just that in the end, the fight wasn't even about us or them. It was about saving the world and then fighting Juno, which is something everyone will have to do, not just us. Or rather, everyone alive will still have to do, since I'm not there." It might sound crazy, to implicate the enemies would have to work together, but seriously, Juno was no joke. Big picture.

"I mean, the Templars would've fucked it up, don't get me wrong. They had a spy infiltrate the group that 'rescued' me," quote marks around the rescue, "and planned on taking the Apple. Which would've caused the thing they wanted to stop, because I'm the only one who could do it." Lucy. That was a reckoning on like ten different levels, but he's definitely not going to mention that name now. "I guess I'm really tired of fighting, is what I'm saying. I don't think I was made for it the way you were."

[eaglesonofnone]

Altaïr's hand was at his shoulder, remaining there lightly as he spoke - but then, as he finished, it moved, shifting from his shoulder to over his heart. He looked at Desmond with utmost sincerity and said, "Then do not fight, Hafid. The work of Assassins is important. Necessary, when freedom is deeply threatened. But never would I force someone unwilling to take up the burden. I never had a choice. But here? Now? You do."

His first two fingers tapped over Desmond's heart before his hand withdrew. "Find what it is that soothes your heart, and do that. Aid as you can, but do not force yourself to do what you have no wish to do. Be you." A small smile came over his lips. "You have already done more than anyone had a right to ask."

[moderndayassassin]

Desmond really and truly didn't know what to do with this level of acceptance and support. It was so alien to him. It showed in his mix of confusion and gratitude. Why would he think that Altaïr would be as harsh as his father? Maybe when he was young, but as an old man, he was different. Desmond lived it himself. There were a lot of things he would never get, closure with his parents was one of them. He felt so much emotion well up in him from that kind of simple kindness, to being told that it was alright for him to not fight. To think finding peace within himself was an option.

He blinked away tears and was embarrassed by them, rubbing at his eyes to get rid of them. "Uh, thanks, sorry. It's just been an intense few months." His father would tell him Desmond, there's always more work to do. He wasn't so sure dying would be enough. Altaïr told him it was okay, and he knew better than William Miles. "I mean, you can always count on me, Altaïr. We're, I don't know, family, I guess." Desmond looked away as if trying to claim that family line with him was asking for too much.

[eaglesonofnone]

"You are my hafid," Altaïr agreed, giving his arm a squeeze before letting his hand drop. "And one I am proud to have. My door will always be open to you, and my kitchen table. I suppose I am kitchen mother enough to want to see you fed."

And it would give him a reason to cook more, all told. He did enjoy it well enough, even missing a few vital ingredients as he was. But he would have rice in time - he was determined. Starting this next growing season, if there was any measure of luck.

[moderndayassassin]

Desmond smiled uncertainly but he was going to accept this bond and accept their connection, if that's what he wanted. They both wanted. "Alright, alright. And I am living off the inn alone, so I can do that." It was weird, meeting both him and Connor, but good too. He was happy with both of them living up to his expectations.

[ooc: we can wrap here as we are doing the newer one! yay!]