Cold Arrival

[loyalrebel]

WHO: Malik Al-Sayf
WHERE: Fountain Square, Inn, around the village
WHEN: 12/29
OPEN TO: Fountain: Altaïr, Elsewhere: OTA
WARNINGS: mention of past character death, tbd

---

Fountain: Altaïr

As far as rude revivals went, regaining consciousness underwater was pretty high up there. That it was also freezing didn't help anything in the slightest. Malik isn't entirely sure how he makes it to the surface or the edge of the fountain where he clings and tries to catch his breath.

He knows he needs to get out of the water and in to somewhere at least sheltered if not warm. That or dip back under and call his merfolk form around him. There's something off though, besides the seeming lack of other Travelers in the water with him. He tries to reach for his magic, and that's when he figures out what's out of place.

He can't access any of his bag of tricks. No magic, no portals to Liminal, no shapeshifting either.

He swears under his breath, clinging tightly to the edge of the fountain.

“Hello?” He calls out, hoping there's someone within earshot even as he struggles up out of the water as best he can with one arm while shivering.

Inn: OTA

Malik had genuinely forgotten exactly how much the cold bothered him, being able to magically ignore it had spoiled him against the unique aches it brought to his left shoulder. Which, much to his dismay, has reproduced in his knees.

He's managed to settle himself at a table close to the fireplace, which he eyes on occasion like he's contemplating actually pressing himself against the bricks or just crawling inside of. Mostly though, he eats and attempts to eavesdrop on anyone coming in.

There's something he notices though, as he eats and its enough to actually give him pause to stare at the dish before him.

“That is new.” He admits aloud, frowning.

Wildcard

He hasn't been here long, but there are some rather important things that Malik needs to test out before all hell breaks loose as it usually does. So he finds a nostly out of the place to try things out.

While most of it seems to involve standing there looking increasingly annoyed, he does eventually take to throwing stones he dug out of the snow at a cleared bit of ground with remarkable precision while looking murderous.

Comments

[eaglesonofnone]

He hadn't signed up for a patrol today, but that rarely stopped him from being out and around. He liked to make certain everything was all right, and he liked to think about his plan of action. It would be foolish to do much in the winter. Traveling in such weather brought on dangers that were senseless and could easily be avoided in warmer times. That this place had been here for years was something of a reassurance. It meant he could take his time, if he read the signs correctly, and wait for thaw.

Already, he'd gone to the inn to share in the usual lunch, had done a bit of searching about and comparing for his own reasons (what those odd gift preparations were, he had yet to decide if it was good or ill), but had then departed to head back to his house. He had a bit of work to do for those who were working on the clothing. More sets of knitting needles rarely went amiss, and they gave him something to do while the evenings darkened.

He was slightly in his own thoughts when he first heard the voice, trying to tell himself that there was no way he heard what he thought. But then, he saw - and he...

He didn't know if he could believe his own eyes. With what he'd just seen on the wrist device (that he now hated almost virulently), seeing him here was nearly cruel.

But it didn't stop him from walking closer, hand over his chest. "Malik?"

[loyalrebel]

"No, three half drowned toddlers." Malik snapped back, glaring at the familiar figure. "I need help, Altaïr, not an audience."

He can already feel the cold settling in to his hand properly.

[eaglesonofnone]

The tone of his voice. His words. There was some difference, there, but all together, it was unmistakable.

For days, his emotions had been close to the surface. This was no different. Immediately, he stepped forward, slinging his robes from around his shoulders to wrap them around Malik instead, and then, unable to stop himself, he was hugging him. His chin rested on Malik's shoulder, his eyes shut tight - he didn't want to weep again. He didn't even want to be glad to see him because that meant he was stuck here. But he was here.

[loyalrebel]

Malik returns the hug, even as he shivers within the weight of the robe. He knew Altaïr would have been worried, but this was a little more than he was expecting of it.

"How long was i gone? He asks, "I know what I did was foolish, but it was the only way to give you a chance."

[eaglesonofnone]

He took in a deep, shaky breath before answering, "Thirty six years. There is so much to explain..."

But that time would come. For now, his best friend was before him, looking... achingly young. Was he even thirty six yet? Once more, times clashed in his mind, trying to find out, to decide, what could be the last Malik knew? Had the fountain lessened his age as well?

Wildcard

[moderndayassassin]

Desmond is doing better at getting out and about. He's attempted to talk to people. He doesn't just get food from the inn and go back to shut himself away. The fresh air is good for him, although it's cold, and he misses his hoodie when there's a little too much wind for him. But sometimes he does a little jogging or activity so he doesn't lose his form. Who knows when shit might go wrong here. It's inevitable.

He's doing that when he spots a figure from a distance and squints at him. There's something familiar about it. The dude is throwing stones which looks a little weird, unless it's practice, and he comes closer. He manages to get a side view of his face and his eyes widen. "Malik?" He remembers him well from Altaïr's memories, although he's well aware that the man wouldn't know him so that'd come off as weird.

"Hey, man, has Altaïr seen you?" He's smiling. Actually smiling!

Re: Wildcard

[loyalrebel]

Malik turns, eyebrows knit together in mild confusion because while the man looks somewhat familiar he's not someone Malik recognizes himself.

"When I first arrived, yes." He replies, crossing to retrieve his rocks. "How do you know him?"

There's a difference to him from whatever he'd been back in the Levant, a touch more grey in his hair and a sort of bone deep tiredness to his expression. There's also a scar on the side of his head when he turns, only barely hidden by his hair.

[moderndayassassin]

"I'm his descendent, Desmond. Many, many centuries removed." Which was true outside of the fact that Desmond looked more like Altair than his own father, but Desmond didn't question it really. His DNA traces to the three of them were strong, so maybe the looks passed that way too. Or it was a freak incident. He could tell something was different about Malik, but assumed from now he might be from later in the timeline. ...not too late, obviously, as he was alive.

"I know a lot about you from, uh, stories that were told." He wasn't entirely sure he should jump right to 'I know almost as much about you as your best friend.'

[loyalrebel]

"I see." Malik sighed, leaving his rocks where he's tossed them. "I was not aware that stories of me survived that many generations."

There's a note of disbelief in his tone, he's met some of Desmond's contemporaries among other Assassins and they didn't recognize him at all.

"I will appologize in advance, Desmond. I am likely not going to live up to whatever expectations you have, I took a bit of a detour between home and here."

[moderndayassassin]

Desmond was never really sure how much to tell people. Except he always ended up telling them everything, because it felt worse to him, somehow, to withhold that level of information. He hated when people lied and kept things from him. "It's complicated, but in my time, far in the future, we had a machine that let me live the lives of my ancestors. It was to figure out where key objects of power were so we could find them. Obviously I never thought I'd actually meet any of them or the people in their lives."

But they were real and they were real and he had zero idea what to do with that fact. Outside of awkwardly confess and do his best not to come off as creepy as he very well might be.

That next part was curious though. "What do you mean by a detour?"

Wildcard - You Kill That Ground

[skyward_eyes]

Mostly out of the way places don't exist when you're part of the watch, which Nida was doing his rounds for now. It typically meant looking away from the village, checking the world around them, only occasionally glancing at the village and buildings. Which meant after a while he caught sight of a single person, standing off alone, facing a cleared bit of ground.

Normally he didn't pry but the stone bouncing against the area was enough to get Nida to move toward the man. Doesn't take the staff off his back, though. He doesn't want to seem aggressive.

"So... what exactly did the ground do to upset you?"

Re: Wildcard - You Kill That Ground

[loyalrebel]

Malik shifts his stance a bit when he notices Nida, he may not have the staff in hand but he has a weapon to begin with. It may not be something Malik is personally good with, his distaste for polearms only increased after the loss of his arm, but he eyes the length of it with practiced consideration as he gauges what the man's reach would be.

"The stones are not catching fire." He says simply, "They are supposed to, and it is a safer spell to attempt to use than others I know."

He's been more or less filled in on the fact that most folks aren't native to the area, so there's less reason for him to want to hide that he knows about magic.

[skyward_eyes]

He's expecting the stones to catch fire? Interesting. Nida considers this carefully, head tilted just to the side.

"You're a bit late. Last time I saw anyone using fire magic or whatever you want to call it was about fourteen days ago," he explained. After the fifteenth his own grasp of the magic had faded. Sucked, because for a moment he'd felt more like home. "From my understanding, people don't get to retain what powers they naturally had when they came here."

Still, rocks themselves shouldn't catch fire. Even spell stones back home had to have magic channeled through them to use the power inside, and they cracked through after one use.

[loyalrebel]

"Less natural and more things I picked up between home and here, but I suppose keeping in practice throwing is always a good idea." Malik shrugged, pacing off and throwing the rocks at a tree this time instead. They hit the exact same place each time.

"Do we keep things that changed us physically?"

[skyward_eyes]

Damn, the guy had some seriously impressive skills. Nida would never even be able to reliably hit a tree trunk from the distance Malik was at. So yes, he's watching with that sort of appreciative eye that one warrior might give another at good technique.

"Depends on what you mean by 'changed us' physically. The sorts of enhancements that I experienced back home are gone. I'm not as fast, as strong. Definitely have to up my normal workout routines."

The lack of his junctions was really pissing him off, but he'd make do. Always did.

Inn

[plate_builder]

"What part of it is new?"

Really, Reeve kept finding himself in the position to run into strange people over strange things when he comes downstairs to eat. He himself is focusing on the soup as he, with his free hand, jotted down notes in the margins of a sketch of what most likely was a barn in the design.

Still hasn't looked up, but this work is his focus.

Re: Inn

[loyalrebel]

"Not being hungry still." Malik replied automatically, even if he resists the urge to grimace at now having to either lie or explain the whole thing. He looks at the other man and there's a brief twinge of painful nostalgia in his chest at the sight of someone working through a meal. It reminds him of finding Leonardo deep in to some project or another.

"What are you working on?" He asks, genuinely curious.

[plate_builder]

If only he could manage something nearly so brilliant as Leonardo. You know, without accidentally killing large swaths of the world in the process. Barns seemed like a better choice, filled with warm animals who were wonderful to pet. If they were petable.

"Plans for a barn," Reeve answered as he looked up, twisting the paper in the man's general direction as an invitation. "There is no proper one in the city, or so I was informed. And as my specific abilities are towards architecture and planning and less toward hunting, scavenging, and more immediately practical survival things, I offered to work on it."

Oh, and there was that other thing Malik mentioned, wasn't there?

"At least for now it does not seem that we shall have to ration enough to leave us with painful bellies by winter's end. Eating your reasonable fill should be possible."

[loyalrebel]

Malik scooted closer, he may not be much of a builder or engineer but he knew enough about the needs of people and animals to keep up.

"Where is it going to be built? And have you taken water in to a count? Rain and runoff." He asked, frowning as he studied the page.

"I had a condition, not a famine."

[plate_builder]

Ah, another one of those rare people who asked the right questions. Reeve just accepted the 'I had a condition' thing and moved on to the more important things. The barn.

"Due to the weather conditions and the frosting of snow, I have not had full time to evaluate potential locations. I don't want it too far from the outdoor fields either, because there will be benefit to using waste products as fertilizer. Water is of course an issue as the river could be far away and I don't know usual weather patterns, but I will have a runoff barrel to help with some needs. I imagine animals here aren't as adaptable to chocobos at drinking less than pure water, so I need to find a suitable location for the work. For now the jailhouse is one of a few places serving as temporary barns."

There is a lot to be done, he knows it is a bit of planning but he's smiling to talk about it.

Wildcard

[rebornpaladin]

It's a little jarring, catching sight of a silhouette that's only really familiar in one specific way. That's the first thing that catches Shiro's eye, anyway, followed immediately by what the person's doing, which is a little alarming in its own way, but more just sparks his curiosity. It seems like an incredibly specific but not necessarily useful task to set oneself to.

"Good arm," he calls out, watching another purposeful, doubtless precise throw, hears the words that come out of his mouth a fraction of a section after they do, and is instantly grateful he's got his coat and shirt sleeves cuffed to where his elbow would be, if he still possessed one on the right side, which he demonstrably does not.

Re: Wildcard

[loyalrebel]

"You said it, not me." Malik quips back, unoffended. Shiro's voice isn't an unfamiliar one, even if he is fairly certain he's the only one who remembers Traveling.

"How are you finding being left handed?" He asks, and there's the sort of amusement of an inside joke to his tone.

[rebornpaladin]

"Frustrating," Shiro answers honestly, the tilt of his head shifting just minutely with a more focused curiosity. The man could simply be exceptionally easy going, but if this is Altair's Malik, which Shiro suspects it might be, that certainly isn't what Shiro had been lead to expect. The response was delivered with a familiarity that seems out of place.

"It feels like something I missed the opportunity to prepare for." As much as he'd despised the Galra prosthetic, it had been a part of him, and he hadn't planned for its absence, at least without a replacement. It's taken losing the damn thing to realize what an oversight that was on his part.

[loyalrebel]

Malik has generally made a career out of being not what people expect, though he's a bit too tired to consider lying about all of Traveling at the moment.

"Most people do not consider it something to deal with to begin with. The majority of things can still be done, but there are select few that are truly unattainable. It mostly ends up being clapping."

[rebornpaladin]

He blinks with mild surprise and then laughs, walking nearer.

"And I thought shaking hands was awkward. I'm Shiro. You must have arrived... recently?"