Magnus "The Hammer" Burnsides (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
disarmer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
asgardeventide2013-10-15 09:17 pm
disarmer) wrote in asgardeventide2013-10-15 09:17 pm
Entry tags:
Day 340 ; voice
I would think this some well thought out personal attack, but it seems I am not the only one to receive....pictures of people they are acquainted with. [ Yet Malik, unlike probably most of the others to receive photographs of their loved ones, doesn't really sound all that happy about it. Actually, he sounds downright livid. A tone that he is trying with little success to mask.]
So instead of asking about the "gift" itself, I would like to know who among us thought themselves so great, that they assumed digging into the personal lives of others was an acceptable feat? [ Because as much as he loves his brother, and will likely come to appreciate the pictures in time, this was not something he wanted shoved at him so suddenly and without warning. Not when his brother's death is still a wound that needs to be healed. ] Not everyone is looking for reminders of the past, so whoever you are, you would do well to think before acting in such a way again.
[ Malik out.
Though! Anyone at the Bureau should be warned; Malik is not a happy camper, and will probably sass anyone in his vicinity. Whoops. ]
So instead of asking about the "gift" itself, I would like to know who among us thought themselves so great, that they assumed digging into the personal lives of others was an acceptable feat? [ Because as much as he loves his brother, and will likely come to appreciate the pictures in time, this was not something he wanted shoved at him so suddenly and without warning. Not when his brother's death is still a wound that needs to be healed. ] Not everyone is looking for reminders of the past, so whoever you are, you would do well to think before acting in such a way again.
[ Malik out.
Though! Anyone at the Bureau should be warned; Malik is not a happy camper, and will probably sass anyone in his vicinity. Whoops. ]
action, because i'm hideous;
Safety and peace, Malik.
action,
[ His voice is snappy, and whatever semblance of a decent mood he had had in the last few days is long gone, replaced with an irritation that seems...almost out of place, really. Sure, he still wasn't on the best of terms with Altair, but at least he had been treating the other assassin cordially enough. ]
action,
Is there a reason I should not be here?
action,
No, you are as welcome here as any of our brothers.
action,
Thank you, brother.
[He drifts behind the counter and reaches for a neat stack of paperwork left there earlier, but seems reluctant to turn his attention away from the smaller papers in his hand.]
action,
He's about to set his pen down and try to clear his head with a walk, when he spots the smaller paper in Altair's hand. They looked to be similar in size to the photographs he had gotten earlier, though that didn't mean that's what they were. ]
What is it you have, there?
action,
My son. This is Darim.
[Altaïr holds up the photograph for Malik to see, and endeavors to temper his fatherly pride.
He is not very good at it.]
action,
Ah.
[ A bitterness deep in the pit of his stomach takes hold, and he grits his teeth as he looks away, scowling at nothing in particular. ]
How very fortunate you are, to have such a pleasant reminder of him here.
action,
More than a reminder. He was not yet born when I was taken from home. The images left to us are the first opportunity I've had to see his face.
action,
[ He scoffs, scowls, and looks back down at his desk, where his three photographs had been hastily shoved beneath some papers. ]
action,
[He frowns a little, wondering what it is that has captured Malik's attention.]
action,
It is not that I wish for an easy life. I simply wish the world were not laced with constant reminders of what I will never have. The Gods--[ He pulls the photo from its hiding place, a picture of him and Kadar as children, slamming onto the desk without giving it so much as a glance. He is at his boiling point. ]--they act with such thoughtlessness. And then there is you, the future, and any other that knows of me. It is as though this place, just as much as our home, relishes in unnecessary hardship.
[ He feels cheated, almost, knowing of the things Altair accomplishes. Of his potential and his family. Of the respect he somehow manages to command. He knows, of course, that Altair's life is far from perfect, but the grass is always greener on the other side.
( And for once he wishes he could see the green of his own grass, instead of the brown, dying turf he believes to be there.) ]
action,
He should have remembered that some of them can only look back to remember their loved ones, not look forward to meeting them again.]
Malik...
[He can't meet the man's eyes at this moment, so he keeps looking at the picture instead. Malik and Kadar, so much younger—decades, perhaps, but it feels like a lifetime ago. Before things had gone so very wrong, and one life had been snuffed out far too soon.]
Is this the only one they left you?
[He doesn't know if he hopes for a yes or a no.]
action,
[ His voice is even, unnaturally so as he pulls the other two pictures from their place, setting them out next to the other. It's like a progression of years; Childhood, adolescence...
It's the last picture that he can't seem to take his eyes off of, because it's an image of his last fond memory before Solomon's Temple. The last good memory he will ever have of his brother, the two of them telling stories over a fire, Malik smiling at some joke his brother had shared. ]
action,
Kadar looks happy to be with his brother, proud to be an Assassin. As Altaïr remembers him. And he knows that that, too, is a luxury—that he did not have to witness the man's final moments.]
They meant these as a boon to you.
action,
[ Yet try as he might, he can't bring himself to throw them out. As much as it pained him, as much as he wanted nothing more than to rip them to shreds and never look upon them again...he can't.
Because it has been so long since he could remember the good times. It was as though Solomon's temple and his brothers final moments had superimposed all the years they had spent together. ]
action,
Hey, the Crabby Pantsing it's not directed at him
yet. ]action,
Should you be in here?
action,
Uh. I was looking for Altaïr?
[ That's who he's been spying on to figure out how to get up here, at any rate. ]
Re: action,
You should have waited below for him, then. You have no business in here.
voice;
This wasn't the first time they involved things that should be dead.
voice;
[ But it's not like he expects the Gods to listen. He's just irritated.
There's a moment of pause before he continues. ]
It is not? [ Hah. ] Somehow, I am not surprised.
voice;
No, it was not. Even if you do or do not believe in specters, they were able to conjure anything that may have haunted us before. Figuratively and literally.
voice;
I suppose I should be grateful to have missed such an event, as I have no desire to be haunted any more than I already am.
voice;
voice;
voice;
no subject
[Never mind that she, also, is angry over the "gifts".]
no subject
no subject
How do they? Isn't there some defense against telepathy?
no subject
[ Some part of him doubted such things would work on gods, anyway. ]
no subject
How many snapshots did they send you?
no subject
They have sent me three.