sixthiterationlogs | Right now it's pretty crazy

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Right now it's pretty crazy

WHO: Jacob Frye
WHERE: South village, Inn, Altair's house, Rundown village
WHEN: The first part of January before One Man Show
OPEN TO: Open to All, locked post for Altair. Rundown village trip is open for anyone that might tag along, multiple threads welcome
WARNINGS: Rated PG for Jacob being a reckless idiot?

Desperately keeping busy - South Village

The events of New Year's Eve helped Jacob to try and ignore the changes that have left him unsettled in this place. Sadly that event was only one night, and now he's back to dealing with everything going on in his own head.

Or doing everything he can to ignore it all.

It's why he spends a lot of time in the Inn. Not only are there others around, but there's maps and notes about the surrounding area, what is out there to be wary of, and where he might continue to look for any signs of Evie, Connor, or the others that have disappeared. Certainly there's the stories of them being returned home, but he needs to know, not just rely on stories.

He spends a lot of the day in or around the Inn, though much of that is perched atop one roof or another. Not merely the nature of the assassin, but because the house is much emptier than he is used to, and spending his time watching over the village - or falling asleep late into the night after doing so without going inside - is less wearing on his nerves. It takes a bit, mapping things for himself and planning out what he might do without wandering too far in case the weather changes, but eventually he has a plan and a course of action.

Planning - Locked to Altair

Since even before Evie vanished, since Jacob had found Altair hurting from the images he had seen, Jacob has made a point of stopping by Altair's home from time to time. Now, having come to a conclusion of at least one more place to check, both for those missing as well as supplies that might help them in the village.

So used to having Evie there to talk out plans with, it actually does occur to him that maybe heading out for a few days might not be the best of ideas. Not without telling someone where he's going. So he heads over to Altair's, looking a bit worse for wear if the dark circles under his eyes are any indication.

Adventure awaits - Hike to the Rundown village, scouting there

Packing the sack his clothes were in when he arrived, Jacob sets out to the rundown village he saw on the map at the inn. Evie had mentioned other areas there might have been people when he first arrived, and he can't help but want to see them himself. Just to be certain his sister hadn't wandered there alone.

He might be used to cities, but he spends his days racing along rooftops and has a stamina to show for it. Taking his time to make the hike, planning to make it there with only a short rest overnight, and then see what he might find there and judge his return on that. No more than a handful of days, at most.

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"I... have been better," he admitted. He had been not only better but less conflicted, less unsure... All had been better before the message on the strange little wrist device, and before he found himself... caught.

With an exhale, Altaïr motioned for Jacob to follow him to the kitchen. "Easier to sit while you eat. And talk. There is also more soup there, so you can have as much as you wish."

Even within his house, he still wore his hood, keeping it in place, keeping his hair covered except for the odd glimpse within the hood's shadow.

Jacob wonders still why he seems to have been left out of those messages that are upsetting so many, but deep down he is nearly glad for it. Except for the concern of what being overlooked means.

He follows with an easy gait, looking around curiously and not tipping the dish an inch so that it all remains within the vessel.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. Not had much of an appetite for a bit," he says, dismissing it, acting as if it's not much of an issue. It's easier to pretend that there is no troubles, no loneliness, nothing but carrying on as normal.

"Has there been more? Since... the message?" Not mentioning how bad it hurt Altair, not wanting to seem to be slighting him for his reaction.

He led Jacob back to the kitchen, a place that was easily the heart of this small house. There wasn't much here that was personal. Just the same things that could be found in any other house in the village, except for the scent of the soup. The village wasn't much of a place for personal belongings, after all - and having been at home, he wasn't even wearing his mentor robes. Just the simple Masyaf pants and tabard, his cowl over his head. Some things never changed.

"No more, thankfully," he said as he gave the soup another stir, the stove's fire banked to keep the pot at a tolerable simmer instead of a rolling boil. "But Malik's arrival has... complicated things. The day I saw on that message. It was also the day of his death, which I dare not tell him."

And that was when his head bowed, eyes closed as the weight settled onto him. "He is not the Malik I knew. He has more scars, more silver hair. I do not care for him any less, however - which... is a part of the problem."

It's much more intimate than the house where Jacob is. There hadn't been time to work on it as siblings, and since Evie has disappeared, Jacob has spent all of his time searching for signs of her and Connor rather than settling in.

Now it makes him think about the truth that many are making this place into a home, and all he might have felt for this place had grown cold as the trail to find Evie had.

Listening, the turn of the conversation taking his attention as he toys with his soup with his spoon, but find himself more playing than eating. His own thoughts getting a bit away from him, shaking his head as he reaches up, pushing the back of hood until it pools against his shoulders.

"Unless you're talking a cultural issue," Jacob begins, considering his words more than he often does, trying to keep his tones even and watching his words more than he might often do. More than most have ever known of him. "I'm not sure I understand why that is a problem. Even if he's not entirely who you've known, or that he's gone when you return... You're here now."

For now. For as long as it lasts. Bitter thoughts tainting the others confusing thoughts he's been having and at least clear his head of those things.

He took a breath before saying, "Far from cultural." But then he was motioning to the soup. "Eat. There is a darkness below your eyes that tells a greater story than your words." He came to stand at Jacob's side, watching his expression with care - and settling a hand on Jacob's shoulder. He was intimately familiar with loss and he could see it in every line of Jacob's face, the sight making his troubles pale in comparison.

And then the thought came.

"Jacob," he began, voice quiet and low. "When I first was reminded of Maria's death, you were there. You took hold of me. You held me and reminded me that I was not alone. In truth, that is something I have felt keenly since I arrived." Altaïr squeezed Jacob's shoulder where his hand rested, kneading and letting his thumb rub over the crest. "I was fifty-six years old when so many were taken from me. I lived with barely the presence of my elder son afterward. But after coming here, I found people I could care for. You are one of their number. The things that trouble you - they trouble me as well. But I want to make a promise to you, here and now."

Despite having told Jacob to eat just moments before, he gently lifted the bowl from Jacob's hands, placing it over on the table so he could move in front of him and take hold of both his shoulders. "So long as both of us are here, neither of us is alone. We are both the same in many ways, tending to drift without someone there to anchor us. I have been blessed to regain Malik, but I do not know for how long. For me, though, this place is all I have. So while the both of us are here, Jacob, we will anchor one another." But then, there was the faintest hint of a smile that wasn't a smile at all. "Or perhaps, together, we will drift away. No matter which - we will not be alone."

Even at the instruction, he only toys with the soup, his stomach not well set and it's not getting any better. Still more than a bit at a loss beyond his concern for Evie's absence.

"And I will be here for you, Altair. I gave you my word then, and that won't change. Even with my mood, I swear that won't change." Worrying he thought that his own emotions might change the word he had given to Altair when that video memory had been sent to him.

His head tilts back, gaze meeting Altair's as his hands lightly touch his arms for a moment though he lets them fall away, dropping back to his side. Troubled that he's let himself appear so weak, in a way that is not in keeping with the image he should be presenting, or the offer he made to be their for Altair.

"You're kind, and I appreciate that. I'm here for you, Altair. I swear that and my word on that will never change," he says, offering what is the best smile he might muster for both his own moods and what Altair is saying now. "And I know I have you to turn to, but I hate the idea of being a bother to you. Of all people. Especially if you're looking to kindle something between yourself and Malik. So don't spend time worrying for me."

He's not used to dissembling about his emotions, about how he's feeling because Evie always knew. It's why he's positively horrible at it, but that doesn't change his desire to not be a burden on Altair.

"I..." He pauses, feeling his throat tighten then. Swallowing hard, smiling winsomely, not quite a real smile but offering the best he has in that moment. "I don't want to be a trouble to you, Altair. I can accept, and even admit, that I'm not exactly the most appropriate of assassins but for you I will do my best not to be the bother I can be. Not only because of who you are, but because you are my friend, and I mean it when I vow to be here for you, through and for anything."

Altaïr frowned, brows drawing down. "Why is it that you and Desmond alike seem to insist that you trouble me? If it was a trouble, the offer would not be made. I am old, but what little mental infirmity had crept upon me is gone now. I mean what I tell you, Jacob."

But then he sighed, even as he reached out to squeeze Jacob's shoulder. "As for Malik and I... That is a door long closed." A gesture, fingers splayed then falling, dismissed the possibility. He couldn't even meet Jacob's gaze as he spoke of it. "First by me when I wed Maria, then by him. He has never known that I cared for him. I never knew, myself, until I saw him die. In my last months, I often forgot they were gone. I fear I shamed Darim more than once."

Another shake of his head and he crossed the room to give the soup a stir, then opened the stove door to further bank the coals. "I am glad he never had to see his father in such a state."

He falls silent a moment, considering that and why he does it. It's not a common reaction from him, after all, putting very little thought into how he affects others, or the issues he might be in their lives. He gives Altair a sharp look though at that.

"It is not insulting your intelligence," he says, almost snappish. "And it's not believing you. It's..." He shakes his head, not even certain how to explain it the concerns he has because of things in his head, or his position in another life and the education he's had. "It's nothing. I hadn't meant it to be insulting. I never would."

Again, not to Altair. He's very good at insulting people. He has vicious mockery down so well it's a special power, but that doesn't mean he would do so to Altair.

"I doubt he would have looked down on you for age or all you've done to get to that age," Jacob says, answering what is easiest first, attention focused on Altair with an intensity he's used to turning on others, and yet is rarely conscious of doing himself. "As for the rest..."

Damn but being the bigger man is harder than he's imagined, but he straightens slightly. "This is not the place you've known, and as you've talked about, you are not the same man. What applied before doesn't have to be the same here."

He barely bites back a sigh, wishing this place had more ale, and more space. He desperately need a run, a drink, or both.

Their kiss at the celebration--

It had complicated things more than he'd known, it seemed. He had already had a conflict growing about his feelings for both Malik and Takashi. And now, looking at Jacob, he wondered what he'd done to the friendship between them with the attraction that had grown there. The man practically vibrated with awkwardness, an uncertainty about how this conversation should go. He had put too much on Jacob, hadn't he, Altaïr thought. Had said, and had done, too much. He needed to be mentor rather than whatever it was he'd become. He needed to regain that distance, for Jacob's sake.

And so, with a slow inhale, he put a faint smile on his face. One that didn't reach his eyes and soon faded. "What holds true is that I am an old man in heart and mind if no longer in body. I would benefit from remembering that. But I do not doubt you came here for a different reason. Please - we can speak of whatever is on your mind."

Jacob knows how he wants things to go, but if Altair is speaking of Malik, then all he can do is help Altair. Despite a rather aggressive and selfish streak that's driven him much of his life, he's enough of a gentleman to try and help Altair. Despite that he's aching to curl in against Altair, to pull him in around him.

Though he rolls his eyes at that. "Oh please, do not even try that with me," he says, sounding much more like himself. "You're many things, Altair, and some of them came with that age such as wisdom, but you're many things Altair. Old in the sense of not exploring your emotions with a good friend though? No, you shouldn't accept that."

His hand touches Altair's arm, light and delicate but not as hesitant. "Don't do as I would do," he says with a chuckle, knowing he's encouraging Altair to do what he wouldn't. All because he doesn't want to hear how kindly Altair would let him down, explain that the kiss had been opium and alcohol and the excitement of the mansion and the party around them.

"Jacob..."

It wasn't going to be so easy, he saw. But then, when was his life ever simple? There had been a time once when he had been given assignments, he left, he carried them out, he returned. But all it had taken to change that was an assignment to protect the Chalice.

The end of simplicity.

"I know you mean well." He placed his hand over Jacob's on his arm. "And I do appreciate your effort. It is true that I have cared for Malik for a very long time, but he found someone in all of the worlds he traversed for whom he begged gods for immortality so he could be with them once more. That person was not me, and I am not the kind to step between another's love. And to be with him here, with that future ahead of him, would leave me resenting the soul who has given Malik happiness. I do not want to be that man."

There's something about the way people say his name, and inevitably it is never in ways that are good. One way or another, they make his gut tighten, wanting to hunch his shoulders up against what is to come.

And yet he manages to remain quiet, to not immediately chatter, to interrupt and distract. Though he wants to. God above and below, he wants to. Anything to not think about the sourness on the back of his tongue, and the uneasy settling like a weight on his shoulders.

"Ironically it seems you were doing as I should and don't," he says, smiling a tight, wry smile. Aching to draw his hood up, to find escape somewhere that he doesn't have to think about making a fool of himself. He rarely acted on the fear of that, but in that moment he is acutely aware of it.

"It won't be mentioned again though. I apologize."

"There is no harm done, Jacob," he assured - and then, with more than a small bit of hope, he reached out to draw Jacob to him, to hug him for a lingering few moments. Everything here seemed so complicated - but the longer he was here, the more he was piecing together just why.

He had never experienced this before. Being around people who liked him, who wished to be friends, or more, with him. He had no experience in this, and now, finding himself conflicted, he knew no way to reconcile. Times like this had never been a part of his training.

Altaïr exhaled a sigh. "I am only afraid that I have... used you. Manipulated you for my own selfish means."

He knew he shouldn't allow himself to indulge in it, but there is nothing in Jacob that wants to pull away in that moment. Wrapping his arms around Altair's waist, to press in closely and rest his cheek against the other man's shoulder. Closing his eyes to fight back words, desires that he hadn't realized until now were perhaps unwanted.

Frowning though as he shifts, leaning back to meet that sharp, beautiful gaze with a furrow on his brow.

"I'm not certain I understand. I made choices, and I acted on desires, and you're being kind in letting me know your affections lay elsewhere, Altair. I'm not sure where this has been manipulation or selfish," he notes.

"I understand you all see me as rather young, but I know my own mind and my own desires. You didn't manipulate me. I acted without thinking. It's one of my best qualities," he says, making a joke to hide everything else he's feeling the best he can.

How natural was it for him to lift a hand to Jacob's cheek. Too natural, likely - but he did. And he said quietly, "It is nothing of your age, Jacob. I believe we both may have acted without thought. I have been conflicted of late, and I will admit that since the two of us met, I have had an attraction for you. You have been blessedly outside of this conflict that I've felt, though, and as such, being with you felt like a safe harbor, uninvolved in that uncertainty. But it is far from right for me to treat you in that way."

Altaïr looked into his eyes, then leaned in to press a kiss first to his forehead, and then lightly to the cheek his hand didn't hold. "You are a wonder, Jacob. You deserve someone who is yours without question and without conflict. What I have done is senseless and undoubtedly painful, and I apologise for that. Perhaps beneath it all, what I am is greedy for all of the attention I've been offered."

Through Altair's words, Jacob is quiet, which in and of itself may well be a feat. He listens, truly listening and not formulating a plan, plotting his next move, his mind racing to argue, to make his own case against the words that, in the end, left no opening for argument. No matter what Jacob might say, all the things he wanted to say, Altair had made his choice it would seem. Even before Jacob truly knew there was a choice being made.

Straightening, forcing himself to step back so that his hands slid along Altair's waist before falling away back to his side. Chin lifting to meet that hauntingly beautiful gaze. "Very few men ever truly get what they deserve," he says, not speaking further of his thoughts that he might well be such a man. No matter how he might be feeling, he had no desire to put that onto Altair. It would serve nothing but to hurt a man that Jacob could easily have fallen for, working already to convince himself it was something that could have happened, not something that has.

"I should perhaps take my leave." He pauses, swallowing as his gaze drops a moment before looking up once more. "So that I don't risk making a fool of myself."

Before he's had time to think. Before he tried using kisses and soft words to plead his case. A must convince himself he lost before he tried, though perhaps he had tried at the party and given up his chance in not pushing his chance. Whatever the case, he suspects he will embarrass himself if he stayed there too long.

He wanted to stop him. To reach out, to take hold, to do anything to keep Jacob from being hurt, but he knew already that it was his fault. He had done this, given Jacob this pain from his own selfishness, and to do anything but let him go, he felt, would do nothing but make it worse in the end.

Altaïr's hands clenched. He swallowed, but then he nodded. "I understand. And I am deeply sorry. If there is anything I can do..."

But what right did he have to even offer? He sighed, head bowed. Ninety-two, and still so much to learn.

Jacob shakes his head, tiny, minute movements of his head as he turns.

"You needn't worry, Altair. Everything's fine," he says, drawing a slow deep breath, chin lifting. "You... You really should take some time and talk with Malik," he says, proud of himself that his voice holds at an even tone.

"I'll see you," he says, managing not to flee the room, and hating that there's no where to go, no way to work out the tightness in his chest. Nothing to do but head out the door and just keep walking. For now.

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Right now it's pretty crazy

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