Angry Wikipedia Editor Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pushesgently) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
asgardeventide2013-11-15 11:32 am
pushesgently) wrote in asgardeventide2013-11-15 11:32 am
voice-->video;
[Good morning, Asgard, your bracelets are currently being serenaded with the sounds of crashing glass and muffled yelling and bunch of shuffling going on. It's probably not the first sound you'd expect, coming from this bracelet in particular, but after the recent escapade made by the Assassins who knows these days.
The racket you hear is continued for a few minutes, with breaks of actual words heard every so often- "let go," ""Ya Homaar!" "CAZZO!" The voices are somewhat distinguishable, and somewhat not. But when the sounds finally die there is a sound of a very frustrated Italian running his mouth off in a frenzy of insults.]
Ha una faccia tosta testa di merda! Sono incazzato! [There's sounds of angry struggling, and more incomprehensible swearing.] Let me go, stronzo!!
[For those within the shop A Needle in a Haystack, you can hear this entire commotion going on in one of the back storerooms. Which is getting entirely destroyed, by the way. You're welcome.]
Not until you speak the truth! Who are you, and what is your business here? What is this place?
How should I know, you are the one who's causing trouble!! Faccia di merda! GET OFF ME!
[There's a large WHUMF and the camera flicks on and smacks into the ground, the bracelet sliding off Altaïr's wrist and clattering across the floor. There's two men among the mess of what looks like a storage room, in white robes, one pinning the other to the floor. For those who know the voices, they will recognize that Altaïr is the one holding the other down- and the one on the ground sounds awfully familiar. Like Ezio, only… younger?]
I will ask you once more. Give me your name and return my blades, and I may spare your life.
[Ezio hisses angrily.] I don't have your blades! You have mine! Give me back my father's blade now-
Enough of your foolishness. You had your chance.
[With a sudden twist to the side, Ezio manages to escape Altaïr's pin and rolls to his feet. He rushes Altaïr in an attempt to gain the upper hand, only to essentially be suplexed and hit the floor with a loud thump. A cry of pain escapes him as the wind gets knocked out of his lungs, and Altaïr lets go long enough to grab the bracelet and cut off the feed there.]
[ooc: As punishment for their hubris as the ringleaders of this little expedition, Altaïr and Ezio have been cursed to become younger versions of themselves—Ezio is 19, and just from his killing of Vieri di Pazzi and Altaïr from one day before the incident at Solomon's Temple. Which means they're jerks now. The curse will last for three IC days. Have fun! Also, threadjacking is highly encouraged.. Bracelet replies will come after an IC delay once they stop fighting and get curious about the talking jewelry.]
The racket you hear is continued for a few minutes, with breaks of actual words heard every so often- "let go," ""Ya Homaar!" "CAZZO!" The voices are somewhat distinguishable, and somewhat not. But when the sounds finally die there is a sound of a very frustrated Italian running his mouth off in a frenzy of insults.]
Ha una faccia tosta testa di merda! Sono incazzato! [There's sounds of angry struggling, and more incomprehensible swearing.] Let me go, stronzo!!
[For those within the shop A Needle in a Haystack, you can hear this entire commotion going on in one of the back storerooms. Which is getting entirely destroyed, by the way. You're welcome.]
Not until you speak the truth! Who are you, and what is your business here? What is this place?
How should I know, you are the one who's causing trouble!! Faccia di merda! GET OFF ME!
[There's a large WHUMF and the camera flicks on and smacks into the ground, the bracelet sliding off Altaïr's wrist and clattering across the floor. There's two men among the mess of what looks like a storage room, in white robes, one pinning the other to the floor. For those who know the voices, they will recognize that Altaïr is the one holding the other down- and the one on the ground sounds awfully familiar. Like Ezio, only… younger?]
I will ask you once more. Give me your name and return my blades, and I may spare your life.
[Ezio hisses angrily.] I don't have your blades! You have mine! Give me back my father's blade now-
Enough of your foolishness. You had your chance.
[With a sudden twist to the side, Ezio manages to escape Altaïr's pin and rolls to his feet. He rushes Altaïr in an attempt to gain the upper hand, only to essentially be suplexed and hit the floor with a loud thump. A cry of pain escapes him as the wind gets knocked out of his lungs, and Altaïr lets go long enough to grab the bracelet and cut off the feed there.]
[ooc: As punishment for their hubris as the ringleaders of this little expedition, Altaïr and Ezio have been cursed to become younger versions of themselves—Ezio is 19, and just from his killing of Vieri di Pazzi and Altaïr from one day before the incident at Solomon's Temple. Which means they're jerks now. The curse will last for three IC days. Have fun! Also, threadjacking is highly encouraged.. Bracelet replies will come after an IC delay once they stop fighting and get curious about the talking jewelry.]
[ Action ]
[ He scowls down at the ground. ]
He did not kill you--he wanted you to act as a messenger--and threw you from the room, blocking it off so you would be unable to lend us aid.
[ Action ]
[Really, he must be slipping if Malik would ever believe otherwise.]
Even if what you say were true, surely you and Kadar could have handled him between the two of you. Or are you not Assassins?
[ Action ]
You are my superior no longer, your rank stripped from you when it should have been your life. So do not speak to me of what you are able to do. I know full well you failed against him, leaving me and my brother--one experienced and one not--to face off against an army and its master.
And if you are unable to accept that then I will leave. I have no attachment to you, to this place. You are not my master, nor will you ever be.
[ Any semblance of respect that had grown for the Altair he had come to know is tossed to the side, replaced with only the need to get away from the person that does nothing but haunt him. ]
[ Action ]
It could be true, under the right circumstances. No poorly-trained Assassin is allowed to bear the hidden blade, and Kadar has less experience than most he has partnered with. The French Crusaders who've come to the Holy Land to fight for their king are powerful—it's conceivable that they could overpower two men of Masyaf.
Altaïr could allow himself to believe it. But he won't.]
There is no need. I will leave this place myself.
[He turns to do just that.]
Stay if you like. I'll find my own way out.
[ Action ]
Finally, an action we can both agree on.
[ Part of him wants to be done, to crawl to his room in Odin district to lick his wounds and curse this place until there's no breath left in him. ]
And do not return. You are unwelcome within these walls.
[ He almost adds 'until you have come to your senses' but refrains, too angry to offer the possibility of the future. ]
[ Action ]
[He scowls over his shoulder, his expression full of disdain and the slightest bit of disappointment—that Malik would asssist in painting this bizarre picture of reality in which he's found himself—that reality itself is not as he expects it to be.]
Safety and peace, brother.
[There's no warmth or well-wishing in the familiar words. And then he's gone, just a blade in the crowd.]