paradisalogs | [open] Never sleep...

Who: Altaïr ibn La-Ahad & YOU
What: Arrival + Sleepwalking
When: feb 24 - mar 02
Where: Populated places like the Castle and City, and in front of the Insolitus door.
Rating: will vary, probably PG but things could escalate. As things come up, slap some content warnings on your threads at will.

A(rrival sleepwalking)

Altaïr had been left with the mystery of an ancient artifact, the betrayal of a man he had completely trusted, and the Brotherhood in shambles. The treachery was still fresh, raw; his very blood still stained Altaïr's hand when he woke in Paradisa. "Woke" turned out to be a figure of speech. Though he moved as if awake, washing his hands and going about his business, Altaïr would remain unconscious for the next several days, eyes shut. Though he could not know he was in a new place, he noticed with alarm that the familiar weight of his hidden blade was missing from his bracer. Now where did he put it? His efforts to check under each couch were fruitless, though entertaining for anyone who witnessed him.

His other weapons were intact however, and with the recent upheaval of the Brotherhood, he paced the halls of the castle fully armed—sword at his side, knife on his back, and fifteen throwing knives arrayed over his leather armor and boots. He believed it was the fortress back home in Masyaf. This wasn't too much of stretch, as it was similarly outfitted with a library, garden, towers, and ample living quarters. The hooded man in scholar-like robes was mostly silent, besides the occasional orders to (who he thought were) other Assassins:

"Be on your guard. We are more vulnerable than ever."

B(e in front of the Insolitus door, 27th onward)

About a year ago, Altaïr's lover had been captured and killed by his enemies, the Templars. Since then, he had hunted each one responsible, killing every last one. This did not bring him peace or comfort. He would often wake at night from the haunt of Adha's face, the terror there frozen in death. Altaïr had felt so strongly for her, he thought he could never love another woman like that again.

Now he was in the throes of another nightmare like this. He swiftly took his post at what he thought was a door deep within the Assassin fortress, but was really the Insolitus door. He knew enemies were going to flock to it, and there was no place he could hide while waiting. But he would protect Adha, and maybe cut down a few Templars in the process. His eerie calm, the meditation of an assassin, belied his violent intent, were it not for the chill in his voice and the hand on his sword hilt.

"You should leave."

[ ooc: Try to tag in with a specific date! Plotting post for more info ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Maria had just barely settled in when half or more of her fellow castle residents seemed to have lost their senses entirely. Drifting about the halls like dullards, acting as if those who approached them were someone else entirely—barking mad, she thought. She would be more alarmed if she weren't so tired herself.

Despite the drowsiness, she'd managed to keep herself from napping overlong, and without anything else to do, she'd done her own drifting, eventually ending up near what appeared to be a popular spot, given the people she could see scattered around the general area near this door.

One particular person nearly jolted her out of her tired stupor. She knew that voice; she knew that face, no matter how much of it was hidden beneath his hood. Hurrying forward, Maria wasn't sure whether to embrace the relief or worry within her. "Altaïr? Are you all right? How long have you been here?"

Instead of feeling drowsy, Altaïr was getting more than his fair share of sleep. His dreaming self was alert, so to speak, though his eyes were shut tight beneath his hood. The grip on his sword hilt tightened at the approach of a perceived enemy. He turned in her vague direction, widening his stance.

"How do you know me?"

A Templar man in full armor approaches an Assassin and asks if he's alright. Well, stranger things have happened. While he didn't appreciate his cover being blown, it really couldn't be helped. He'd killed enough Templars on the way to Adha to be known amongst their men, and there were no good hiding spots near this door. This was near-suicidal, and close to breaking the second tenet of the Creed, but he couldn't leave Adha.

"Forget your Chalice, forget your mad schemes. They end today."

He grit his teeth. If he could at least sound threatening, maybe this would work. Damn, what he wouldn't give for the rest of the Brotherhood here right now.

"How do I—?! What on earth."

She'd gotten that look of hostility from him precisely once, and that was months in the past. Even the second time they'd fought with the intention of it being to the death (well, from her side, at least), he'd come off as too self-righteous to be angry.

Maria frowned and set her hands on her hips, not backing down one inch. "I've no use for a chalice and no schemes at hand," she said. "Look at me, Altaïr. Don't tell me someone as stubborn as you can't wake yourself up."

In the back of her mind, there was a faint sense of alarm that told her this was not a promising start, but she ignored it. For now.

Much of the inner peace he'd acquired during his hunt for Robert was lost to the fog of the past. Though he could not be the same arrogant man he was, dreams could make one forget things like recent events, or... common sense.

"It is you who is dreaming, Templar, and falsely. My eyes are opened."

She was right about him being stubborn. His hand remained where it was on his hilt.

"Your eyes are closed, you fool." She scowled at him, then rocked back on her heels a bit, considering. "But you can't even tell, can you? Sleep's taken you, like all the others."

Damn him for letting that happen. This was a completely unfair thought, Maria knew, but knowing didn't make it go away. Of all the times for him to show up, it had to be now.

"Do you plan to stand there all day, then?"

Had he not been under the sleeping spell, he might have recognized Robert's stand-in. But now, all he perceived was another one of the many Templars he'd taken down in back alleys, on docks, along roads between the cities of the Levant. His voice takes a sarcastic edge.

"And now you want to know if I'll change shifts with my Brothers. You would have done better to send a scout. It seems the Templars' ranks are not as formidable as they used to be. One can only imagine why."

If Altaïr's efforts had thinned their ranks, and all they had to send was this incompetent stranger, all the better.

Had he not been under the sleeping spell, Maria would have been very surprised by exactly how he might have recognized her. As it was, all she felt was aggravation and dismay.

"No, that's not what I want to know." She let out an annoyed huff. "Even if I were sitll with them, we're capable of more subtlety than that."

Right. Not the point. "Will you please try to look at me? You know who I am!" Without thinking about it, she moved to rest her hand on his shoulder.

"Do not tell me who I do and do not know--"

The magic behind the door spurred a mild alarm through him, but his sight was dreamlike and slow. He was too late to avoid her hand on his shoulder, and he could only react instinctively. He grabbed at her arm, but though he wanted to immobilize her, he knew Templars were more than capable of countering him. He aimed a kick at her legs instead.

"Hey!"

She was just barely fast enough to yank her hand back, and not fast enough to dodge the unexpected kick. That hurt, and she found herself on a hand and knees, sprawled at an awkward angle.

"I am not here to fight you, Altaïr," she growled, alarm quickly growing to match her existing irritation. "We are not enemies!"

"Other Templars have said as much, how similar our goals are. Yes, I listened to their words, but I saw their intentions for what they really were. So do not test me with your falsehoods, that the people have no right to to choose their own peace. I see otherwise. Now leave."

He brandished his sword (slightly in the wrong direction), but did not attack. He did not have any targets here, only potential threats. His task was to protect Adha, not be distracted by fights.

"That isn't—"

Some part of her—possibly her sense of self-preservation—took control long enough to snap her mouth shut, and she quickly got back to her feet. Half-asleep or not, he had the advantage right now.

"Fine then. Do what you like." She glared at him as she took one step backward, then two. "But we'll speak again."

She was up before he knew it, and he was secretly relieved she didn't attack him. For some reason, his reflexes were a little slow. He didn't know his eyes were closed, of course.

"I shall, whether you will it or not. Do not think you can claim her. If you do, the next time we speak will be with blades."

He remained where he was, sword still drawn, watching her step away.

'Her'? That was something to wonder about—from their travels together, Maria knew he wasn't married, but Altaïr hadn't shared enough of his life for her to have an idea of who he could be talking about now.

A question for another day, perhaps. She watched him carefully until she was a good distance away, then turned around and strode off quickly.

[open] Never sleep...

B because hideousness

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