(Untitled)

[avowed]

Who: Altaïr (oneblade) & Malik (truncately).
What: A very angry reuniting.
Where: The streets near the residencies.
When: Backdated to the first night, nearing dawn.
Warnings: Pissed off assassins.

Comments

[avowed]

A quizzical gaze was cast over the dai as he climbed, watching as he maneuvered his way up the wall. The roof he was aiming for was near, near enough that Altaïr slid himself behind a chimney to avoid detection. Rather than confront the other man immediately, he wanted to at least see where he was headed, if he appeared to be just as lost and unfamiliar with the land or if he had some sort of goal. Still, Malik wouldn't be the skilled once-assassin he remembered if he weren't wary, if he weren't perceptive to another and expecting to be trailed or otherwise observed silently. So Altaïr moved with this assumption, being careful with his footfalls and concealing himself behind any sort of structure upon the rooftops he could. Now it would be more difficult, moving along behind him on equal ground. He'd have to keep from straying far from any sort of spot that would hide his body, much like trailing some hyperalert target to steal information from.

It was a bit impressive to see how the man made his way to higher levels, yet Altaïr shook away the thought as he figured it was only standard, that if Malik were now some useless cripple he wouldn't be worthy of any of the respect he might have once earned. The assassin followed him still, attempting to remain unseen.

[truncately]

Singular hand reaching over the edge, effort applied and with a push upon his feet with a exhale of breath the dai pulled himself carefully to the rooftops with one more burst of effort his body found complete leverage and stability upon the surface above. Pushing himself up, straightening his posture and letting his remaining hand drop to his side, he allowed a sideways glance towards what remained bandaged within the empty sleeve of it's missing brother, narrowing his brows in slightly defiance, a quiet response that he would never allow it to halt him and while he could not find the complete speed and skill in scaling as he once had, there would be no submission to what would be a handicap for many but for Malik, it was simply another challenge, one that made his life mildly more frustrating but at the same time there was something new to be learned.

From the vantage point he could see the lights of the city and the dawn arising, the darkness of the sky becoming lighter within the passing moments as the night air seemed to lift from the earth, chases away by the sun. In that moment though it become more and more obvious, his sense more and more aware that he was certainly not alone in his stance, that the eyes he had felt from below had come from above and while that was normally not something lacking familiarity within his realm where those of the order held such skill, he had not been expecting it there, in his strange place he had awoken to. Severity within his features, his breaths evened from the exertion of the task he would have to relearn, turning to face out into the darkness of the space behind him, watching for any movement or any shapes within the shadows that seemed off, uncommon for the objects upon the rooftops that surrounded him.

A step forward and he kept his stance where it was, as if challenging, as if waiting.

[avowed]

And if Malik were to turn about and look for a follower, as he was now doing, Altaïr would assume he did not in fact have some planned. That, or he was suspicious of followers, but such was unlikely. Altaïr didn't bother attempting to duck behind yet another chimney; it would be silly to keep stalking him now as it was clear there was no covert operation going on. The assassin stepped out from where he stood, his shadow long and his face illuminated against the slowly-rising sun, though much of it remained hidden by the eagle's hood that seemed perpetually up. He stood with that same confidence as he always did, tall and undaunted. Steps were made toward the other, he closed distance yet refused to get too close for obvious reasons. His eyes, perhaps unseen would scan over Malik, taking in the lack of the arm among other things.

There were things he wanted to say, of course, but he was certain the now-dai had much more venom upon his tongue and would be spitting it at him as soon as he figured out that yes, it was Altaïr himself.

Calmly, he uttered an unpolite greeting, "Brother."

[truncately]

The swell within his chest was immediately and it far from relief upon seeing the rather familiar figure standing before him, the shadow melting down from the rise of the sun and melding with his own which arched over and off the edge of the building as if it was falling into the street. The gall, the egoism, the overbearance of pomposity in the manner in which he held himself already had that small flame that lingered within his chest arching up towards his throat which begged to part lips and spill words onto the air, to fill the space between with harshness and disdain almost immediately, as soon as it came to realization of who had been following his path for some time now. The last man he wanted to see, the last member of the order that he ever wished to lay eyes on again and there he stood in the same manner he had stood at the temple not long ago, that dreadful moment in his life that had turned him on his back and forced a a change of rolls most unwelcome.

His feet remained stable in their stance and unyielding to the other as he watched him step forward, his hand at his side begging for him clench fingers into palm while it's phantom brother writhed to follow a similar path. The severity upon his face darkened and at the greeting, obvious with the assassins own distaste upon his tongue.

"It must be a bad omen seeing you here, Altaïr." Came the immediate reply, his eyes never leaving the mans face shadowed by the hood in which the dais own now remained draped behind his neck. "How unfortunate for the innocents of this realm that they may now fear for their lives."

[avowed]

He could see how angry the other was becoming. It was almost amusing, though Altaïr was hardly the type to laugh. Here he was, completely calm if not irritated at the illusion about them, while the man across from him was still bitter and full of fury. An interesting contrast, and Altaïr still felt absolutely nothing for him, no shred of guilt but pity, perhaps, for his misfortune. Yet better Malik than himself be maimed.

"Have you anymore barbs to send?" Altaïr questioned, sounding mildly offended at the tone yet still quite placid, at least in comparison to the man across from him. He was not interested in hearing more of these insults, though Altaïr knew he wouldn't be able to ask any of the questions he wanted to ask before Malik was done with his venting. How tiresome.

[truncately]

The newly assigned dai was certain that the other would be the focus of his anger for eternity and partial to that was his reactions to his words, dismissive, cowardly with still that look upon his face that made him want to draw a blade and shove it into the other mans gut, twist and watch him bleed out upon the surface of the roof. Yet, Malik was far not as reckless as the man standing before him, the shame of the order, someone whose life should have fallen with his brothers own in all fairness. Still, it had not been his job to inform his master how to perform his rights as the head of the establishment, despite how enraged that it made him.

Still, a huff of breath was enough to follow the others regard, not altering his steps as he looked upon the failure of a man standing before him, eyes never leaving his face in severity. "I am alarmed that you would find a genuine concern to be nothing more than a petty insult." A breath and the words continued to seep forth in their native tongue, smooth and harsh.

"More than myself would see your death as a rightful punishment of the joke you made of our creed."

[avowed]

The assassin would have rolled his eyes if such a gesture were known to him, feeling as if he were being scolded more than reminded of how brash and defiant he was. Instead he only continued his stare, hard and without any shred of friendliness, as expected given the status of their relationship. Or lack of. Altaïr's temper was of course flaring up at the negativity Malik was throwing at him, speaking to him like the novice he knew he wasn't. And how dare he?

"I hardly care what you think of me, Malik. I've questions to ask." Implying the dai wouldn't bother answering if he were not done with his insults, Altaïr waited for the reply that would allow him to get a word in.

[truncately]

Yet a novice was what he was to him. Mistakes made in a novice manner, the ego of a younger that never truly grew to find any sort of humility amongst those of the order. To the dai, he had never learned to fall, to fail in any sort and accept it then move onward to improve his mannerisms, his regard to the rules that they were supposed to respect, to live by. The assassin had been a novice in his eyes long before the event and now even more so with what had occurred so recently that the pain in his arm was still fresh and the stitching likely still there. Still, the reaction of the other was expected as he knew there was no concern within his gaze no warmth, nothing that truly ever existed between them despite how long they had known each other. In turn though, his own gaze was something akin to a poison that would kill by a glance if possible and his brows narrowed, voice severe and sounding even more so in their native tongue, he waved his singular hand in a dismissive manner.

Sick of his indifference, the murmur came sharp knowing full well that he felt despite the alteration in realms, his work as a dai did not falter. "Out with it then and try not to waste my time."

[avowed]

After exchanging glares a moment longer Altaïr found himself unwilling to continue staring into those eyes, like some seething black sea that wished to drown him violently, he averted his gaze. Head lowered, the hood shielding his eyes once more at the slight embarrassment that he'd broken their small challenge; and indeed, every action was some sort of test between the two. Who could hold out the longest, rise to the opposition. But at least Malik had granted him talking, and Altaïr hardly hesitated to begin questioning him, coldly and as if he were doing some sort of interrogation.

"At what time did you arrive in this land?"

[truncately]

To him, it was a quiet victory when the assassin turned his gaze away from his own and while none of the severity and tension is his body left him, he shifted his weight from one foot to another upon the roofs surface, his eyes looking towards the man then over his shoulder for a moment to regard the manner in which the sun began to rise over the cityscape, drenching further shadow with the approaching light of the sun that seemed not different as it did in their own realm. A breath, and he allowed the question to linger in the space between for that moment, not caring to answer it so willingly due to the others tone, the others regard in the manner in which he questioned him. Yet, this should be expected, this was certainly nothing new and with a flick of his dark gaze he brought his focus back towards the bane of his existence that hard unfortunately graced this estranged setting with his presence.

"Nightfall," was his sharp reply as if the man was a perpetual annoyance throughout the moment. "Am I to assume you have been here for longer? Or will your blatant disregard for anything involving the order withhold such information from me."

[avowed]

To match that razorlike answer he shot back with another glare, his pride not willing to stand for more insults even though he could hardly care about following the creed at the moment.

"Since early in the day. I walked a road without a horizon. It seemed to stretch endlessly." Altaïr was aware of how insane he might have sounded normally, to state such a thing, but in these circumstances? Al Mualim seemed as though he could conjure a limitless amount of situations that bended reality. Such as plunging a blade within one's stomach. He shifted his gaze once more, yet awaited criticizing from the other - he wouldn't voice his thoughts on this being an illusion before he heard more. Anything to not relive the embarrassment of demotion.

[truncately]

The glare was not ignored but certainly returned with one of his own as he paused and watch the figure for a moment, his eyes shifting from the horizon directly upon the assassin once more as further the sun brought light to the sky, altering the colors and causing the shadows to intensify, their own arching out and melding into one another from the perspective in which they stood across each others company. Listening, the severity did not leave his expression but quietly he cataloged whatever he had come to learn, as was per his profession. It was his duty to be informed if not by his own means but others in the field and when he had none of that, it was a task that was completely his own as the man before him was not one he trusted with certainty.

"And what did you come across in your endless journey?" There was sarcasm attached to his tone, but more annoyance that not more detail was given to a rather crucial situation, something estranged and not of their own world and while such things should be expected, he expected more from Altaïr despite his failings, which seemed to be perpetual.

"Or perhaps you walked with your eyes closed the entire way and simply by fate came upon this place."

[avowed]

Though he had much to tell there was barely any will to share it, the harsh tone of the others was a constant assault on his ego. Which could be nothing but expected, given the man had just lost a blood sibling as well as an arm. Still, Altaïr could find it no fault of his own and thus Malik's aggressions were viewed as completely unwarranted. His glare unfading, the assassin strode closer to the dai in his anger, looking as though he might throw a punch - but of course such behavior wasn't tolerated, not from one as disciplined as he, even if he did tend to recklessly disregard the rules and the creed by which each brother were to live their lives. Instead he only stood, eyes upon Malik's and coursing with their own fury, silent and repressed and never allowed in strong doses. Emotional suppression, it was the tool beaten into him.

Altaïr spoke as if he'd just been on a mission of information gathering. Curt, concise, unfriendly.

"There are guards posted all about the city, particularly the castle. Civilians are willing to talk but give no useful information. One must wear a mask when walking the streets--" - in the daytime, but such was a detail not yet known to the assassin - "--lest they be reprimanded. Clearly this land holds many secrets."

And assassins. But he awaited a reply before delving into that.

[truncately]

It seemed almost natural for a moment, the tension between them, the hatred that lingered on both parties amongst sharp tongues and snips of voice and tone, berated words and bluntly laced insults through glances and posture. The narrowing of his brow remained as the other looked upon him, feeling justified within his aggression towards the other just as in the same light the assassin felt that his own actions could be considered the same, allowable on the grounds that he held no fault. Reaction though, was the dai's defense yet still, as it was his career and this man, this soulless individual void of any humility, was still a brother and even though he was certain he should be dead for his crimes, to share a shallow grave aside his brothers more regal, he still listened with intent and took the concise consideration with a grain of salt.

It was what it was, and this was occupation and so as he replied, he kept it completely professional even though the venom still seeped within his tone, the severity a constant within their interactions.

"More than that, our voices are silenced at night and everyone here is forced to speak in alternative ways that would suggest sorcery." A breath escaped his lips as he paused for a moment, collecting his words and moving onward with the ire lacing the remaining statement of his utterance, dark eyes looking to the shadowed features of the novices face.

"Guards litter the paths south of here, and perpetually encourage those amongst them to move towards the city and not further into the wood as if hiding something. They claim they are there to protect, but there likely is something more to it."

[avowed]

"There is more," the assassin spoke swiftly, barely upon the cusp of interruption. Apparently disregarding everything his brother spoke of, perhaps intentionally or perhaps in his own buffed self-importance, the idea that whatever he had to say was more significant. And so it was like every other time, every other interaction in which the eagle had to be above anyone else in its vicinity. If this test of Al Mualim's was to instill a sense of brotherly camaraderie he was certain it would fail, just as the previous illusion had. He cared little if Malik was to take offense in his attitude, as per usual, and continued with only a beat of delay.

"I encountered a man claiming to be an assassin. Yet he was not our own." His mind retraced the image of the one calling himself Ezio, the rather gaudy coloration and meaningless decor upon his outfit, similar to the Syrian's own yet far more conspicuous. A sharp gaze upon the dai, expecting more vitriol.

[truncately]

The dai allowed the time for the other to speak, listening intently to what he had to say even if his gaze took a moment to linger elsewhere as the sun began to break fully over the horizon. It was a familiar site as the man was normally out before the sun came to fruition amongst the evening sky. For a moment, the swell of longing for home twisted within his chest, but then a moment later it was dismissed amongst the assassins words that took hold of his interest fully and returned his sight to the others own shadowed gaze. A breath, and a moment and his reply came within their native tongue swiftly, speaking low despite being certain they were the only ones within the location.

"What do you mean not our own? Did he seem to know of the order extensively?" The entire idea was perturbing as he had a run in before with another claiming the same thing, something he would bring up once the other had offered out any more information about his own run-in.