abraxaslogs | (open) a million miles from home, I'm walking ahead

Entry tags:

(open) a million miles from home, I'm walking ahead

Who: Altaïr & OTA
What: An Assassin gets a feel for Abraxas; catch-all for the first part of the month
When: Early August
Where: Mostly Cadens

It takes more than a day spent in this strange new world before Altaïr truly accepts that this is not some delusion, a grand vision sent by the Apple or his master from beyond the grave — and even then he can't be fully certain of anything. But he did not survive Al Mualim's phantoms by denying what he sees in front of him, no matter how outlandish.

What is, is, and that means he must respond as an Assassin does. Learn the land. Observe the people. Hide in plain sight.

rooftop parkour;
He'd taken to the roofs almost immediately, and that's not something that changes with the passing of time. Not yet, anyway. It will take a while to learn Cadens as an Assassin truly needs to know it, including all the boltholes and escape routes on multiple levels. He spends at least a couple of hours during each of these early days observing, mapping, and simply free-running for its own sake; it keeps his muscles strong and his skills sharp. He doesn't expect to run into anyone else, and if anyone happens to see him skitter up or down a building ~~like a lizard~~, well, he's not particularly bothered, as long as they're not a guard.

rooftop napping;
Eventually, he has to sleep, but not in the barracks. Altaïr is not under anyone's command and has no intention of allowing himself to be coerced into military service. Instead, having acquired* several linens, pillows and some hay from a nearby stable, he makes a place for himself tucked into a reasonably comfortable spot atop a rooftop, where he's unlikely to be spotted from below.

He's a light sleeper, but in the unlikely event that someone else is inclined to walk the rooftops, a recently liberated** knife rests under his pillow. Hopefully no one wakes up him up while standing too close.

*stolen
**also stolen

library & museum;
If being here has any benefit, it's that he can learn. Once his immediate needs are taken care of, Altaïr makes a point of spending time at both the library and numerous museums. In Cadens, it's not necessary that he take on the guise of a scholar, but if it were he would certainly fit the part; he gathers piles of books, surrounding him at a study table in stacks, and rapidly jots down notes and scribbles sketches at exhibits. It almost seems like the only reason he leaves is because he's kicked out at closing time.

desert;
Having acquired a sword, he's able to borrow a horse from a man who came to the conclusion that anyone who could afford such a fine weapon would clearly be coming into further funds soon. He may or may not be wrong, though Altaïr has every intention of returning his mount; he only wants to venture a little ways into the desert, extending his knowledge of the landscape by no more than a day's ride into the wilds.

Once he's far enough away from Cadens, he's not particularly surprised to hear the sudden sound of other hoofbeats, nor is he bothered by the appearance of bandits, who demand that he dismount his horse and hand over his money. Altaïr could inform them that they've made a poor choice of victim in more than one sense, but instead he smiles and reaches for his new blade.

Should anyone come along, he doesn't truly need the assistance, but they're welcome to join in if they like.

[ooc note - Feel free to tag this in action brackets or prose format, I picked one for the top level but I truly don't care which — I'll match you. Also, for the rooftops prompts, please keep in mind that Altaïr will be moving relatively quietly, so anyone who wants to spot a weirdo doing parkour should be fairly observant/prone to looking up...but he's still a weirdo doing rooftop parkour so it's not that hard to spot him.

If you'd like to try a different scenario, hit me up at my ooc intro/cr meme thread or on plurk at

effervescible!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Alucard has found himself in need of the wilderness again. It happens after so many days in the city. The pattern is predictable now. Comforting, in it's way. He manages two weeks of being human shaped, working, and interacting with the world. Then it becomes a bit too much and he takes to his wolf or bat forms, and retreats to desert. He has a small space carved out of a natural occurring cave now. Home away from home.

But getting there takes time, and the wind has picked up. Alucard lets out an annoyed noise, the shape of a man becoming a shape of a wolf. Easier to trod over the sand.

It is a great white wolf that sees Altaïr's shape in the desert. It is gold eyes that stare at him, trying to place the man. An unknown face. And for it, there's a soft rrrr? in his direction, the body language of the wolf tensing only slightly.]

[It's possible that these bandits have made a habit of targeting newly Summoned who have dared to exit the protection of Cadens, but if so, they've clearly been lucky enough to rob those who arrived in this world with little way of defending themselves. That's not the case this time.

One of the men is already bleeding on the ground, likely dead after he took the initiative to be the first to attack Altaïr and attempt to incapacitate him. The others have suddenly become much more cautious, fanning out to circle around him. He's outnumbered; he's not worried. Altaïr chooses one and points directly at him, letting intimidation do the work along with his blade as he suddenly charges forward.]

[Oh. It's one of these things, is it?

Alucard doesn't recognize the bandits, but the motive is obvious enough. There are plenty of those who stray off and get lost from the known, safe routes in the desert. All the better if they're a part of a caravan and carrying coin or goods.

The whole thing is tiresome, the violence not worth any of it. He doesn't step in as Altaïr charges. In fact, Alucard's wolf form stays still until one of the other would be bandits makes a move.

At that point, there's a great howl from the wolf. Piercing, much too loud, far too close. The last part should register. Should scatter those that remain.]

[The whole encounter is really lifting Altaïr's mood the longer it goes on, because if he has nothing familiar in this world, at least he has his skills. He can even feel a grin on his face — before the cry of a wild animal cuts through the air.

He and the surviving bandits pivot as one to face the beast. Altaïr's eyes widen slightly, but that's all the reaction he'll show. The lead bandit, however, turns pale and swears, then shouts for his men to get back on their horses and ride. Where? Away, it seems, is all that matters.

Altaïr stands his ground but does not lower his sword. He doesn't recognize the type of creature this is, but he'd rather face it head-on and fight for his life than potentially have it leap upon his back.]

[The wolf tilts it's head for just a moment more, and then lets out a snuffle that from a set of human vocal chords, might be a sigh. The eternal debate - stay a wolf and keep the skill hidden vs. keep on in the form - plays out again.

Alucard considers the weapon and the skill he just saw on display. That's his answer. And so, as much as he hates it, the wolf shrugs, transforming back into a man as if this is a completely normal act.]

I've no intent to take whatever you have on your person, you can lower the weapon.

["Slightly widened eyes" escalate to "slightly widened eyes and a look of mild alarm." Which is the equivalent of a much more shocked expression on anyone not accustomed to tightly controlling their reactions.

Altaïr absolute does not lower his weapon; nor does he move to attack. His grip on the hilt tightens and he takes half a step back, but it's more for potential leverage than anything. His gaze darts from the man to the empty space behind him, as if he's half-expecting the wolf to still be there.]

Are you a man who took the form of a beast or a beast in the guise of a man?

The former.

[Alucard's tone is calm and reserved, and he holds himself with a certain level of aloofness that suggests every part of this is totally normal thank you very much. He's used to the surprise once someone sees the transformation.

If he's threatened by the blade, Alucard absolutely doesn't show it. He's nearly ignoring it with a confidence he knows is entirely founded.]

Pick one group of them off and another will just take their place, you know.

[Without revealing he's doing more than taking a hard look at the wolf/man, Altaïr shifts to his other sight...and relaxes, a little. He does lower the blade, though he doesn't sheathe it yet.]

It wasn't my decision to do so. They sought money and chose a target.

[He flicks some of the blood off his sword. It'll need cleaning later.]

Poorly.

Well, the last part is rather self evident.

[There's a scant glance at the blood that rests on sand now. From what Alucard observed, the other man is quick with his weapon. Effective. Which means training in some fashion, likely for a good, long while.]

Are you wandering off of the established paths in the desert on purpose, or are you in need of redirection?

I ventured this way on purpose. Maps and secondhand tales may be helpful, but it's impossible to truly know the land without seeing it for oneself.

[And now he knows more of the dangers as well, for the small price of a few bandits' lives. Altaïr gives the other man an appraising look, one that has little to do with his proclivity to shift forms.]

But I wouldn't say no to any information you wish to share about the area.

[Alucard pauses, considering the man. From what he wears, he seems better dressed for the desert than others the dhampir has seen, and he's clearly decent at looking after himself. The first part is more interesting. It speaks to an old hand.

Still. Alucard gestures behind himself first.]

There's rocky outcroppings and caves in that general direction, good if a sand storm picks up. If you head opposite, it's all open desert. Move perpendicular and you'll eventually find the oasis along the trade route, but you've already met the dangers associated with that particular area.

[He listens carefully, taking mental notes that he may commit to paper later. It's useful, practical information that speaks to strong familiarity with the area. Clearly, this man hasn't been summoned as recently as Altaïr was.]

My thanks.

[He does sheathe his sword now, confident enough that he won't need it in the next few seconds.]

Did you learn all this in your other form, or do you travel as a man, too?

Mm. And you seem to know how to dress and pack for a desert.

[It is both observation and compliment, although Alucard's tone might suggest it is only the former. He pauses, just long enough to push back a few strands of hair.]

Both, although it is easier to move on four legs through this place at night. [Or to be a whole bunch of bats, but that's a secret for now.] What kinds of desert creatures are you accustomed to?

The climate isn't so different from that of my home. I'm used to traveling inhospitable landscapes.

[At least half of the inhospitality comes from the Crusaders and Saracens that set up checkpoints and cling to control of the Kingdom with iron grips.]

The most dangerous creatures I've met in the desert walk on two legs and speak aloud. Anything else can usually be avoided...or outrun on horseback.

Home being...?

[Oh, how nice it is to finally be from further along the timeline.]

I think you may find a few surprises here then. Your typical desert beasts are complimented here by far larger beastly creatures. Although I'm told that hunting and killing those things is a good way to make coin.

Some call it the Holy Land, but I came from the city of Arsuf most recently.

[Before he'd rode for Masyaf. But for all that there's likely no need, he'd rather not mention his actual home.]

Is it really? Perhaps I should look into that.

[And learn more about the beasts. Skill at killing one type of living creature doesn't automatically translate to killing another, but he suspects he could learn quickly.]

[Alucard blinks in recognition. His Middle Eastern geography is not ideal, but he can at least clock something in Arabic.]

I'm from further north and west. Part of Wallachia touches the Black Sea.

[Alucard can suspect that Wallachia isn't known yet, but the Black Sea is a decent enough touch point.]

One or two of the general libraries should have something, or else the leather workers that rely on unusual hides should be able to offer information.

[The name Wallachia means nothing to Altaïr, which he expects — but the surprising mention of the Black Sea is familiar, and his expression brightens ever so faintly.]

I hadn't expected to encounter anyone from the same world. Most of those I've spoken to recall entirely different countries and land masses.

[It doesn't exactly make them friends. But it's — reassuring, almost, to know that he didn't just imagine his own point of origin.]

I do plan to seek out the libraries very soon. Are you much of a reader yourself?

That has generally been my experience as well, although there are always pleasant surprises. It's the 1400s by the count of the Christians in my time.

[Alucard's offering of time is if only for situating world events between them both, although he is aware that there may be a calendar difference given where Altaïr hails from. If the Ottomans haven't taken control of Constantinople, then there's little reason for him to be aware of the ambitions they have that extend into the Balkans and beyond towards Hungary.

To the question, he nods affirmative.]

Over a number of topics, although architecture is my focus presently.

More than two hundred years in my future, then.

[Interesting. If they can be summoned from different worlds, it should be no surprise they can be summoned from different times — and yet.]

I can't say I know much about that. [His experiences with buildings is more hands-on, and feet-on, and...] If I had to choose out of personal interest, I might pick philosophy.

Oh that's-- [Alucard pauses, trying to ping onto world events of the time. His father would have entered Wallachia by then, same with the Belmonts. Enough to settle, not enough for Wallachia itself to be well and truly established. The Byzantines would still be in control of the city, but--ah.] Which crusade are they on, by your time?

[It could probably be better phrased, especially if the answer is there's more than one?]

Mm, you'll find that lacking here in comparison to the sciences and some applied arts. Not that it isn't there, just...the ratio is very skewed.

[...]

The third.

[He finds himself deeply hoping that the question came from not remembering the years spanned by the third and last crusade, and not because there are more to come. One in his lifetime has been more than enough.]

Philosophy is everywhere. It is simply a matter of whether it is written down or held in the mind. Even the common man has a philosophy.

[You know what? Thank goodness it wasn't the first. Then the dhampir would have well and truly felt terrible in alluding to troubles not being over. The third is...well that's fine. No need to get into the rest. He also can't recall if the Albigensian Crusade would have been ongoing by this point. Not hugely important.

There's a warm little hmm at the man's understanding of philosophy there. It's actually quite nice to hear someone being thoughtful about more intellectual matters beyond the practical and applied sciences.]

The museums might also help come to understand some of the unwritten elements. They helped me early on.

[That gets Altaïr to relax a little further, and he resolves to put thoughts of the future out of his mind. They will do him no good far from his homeland and years from when they might occur.

Besides, it's nice to know there are others with an appreciation for the things worth learning.]

I'll have to pay them a visit. [He nods in appreciation.] It may not be so immediate a concern as the necessities of survival, but I find it's as worth learning about as a list of objective facts.

The spaces in the galleries are interesting in that way. They present objective facts, but always with opinions and understandings of what the object means here and now.

[They're woolgathering, and Alucard knows there are other things he needs to attend to. So he offers a polite nod.] I'll leave you to your exploring.

(open) a million miles from home, I'm walking ahead

Desert

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

WOW I marked as read/archived this tag notif somehow without realizing, many sorries!!!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)