001 // voice. day 399.

[sirenae]

[ Contary to popular belief, not all of her reminders are sudsy faux pas at raising morale by glossing over the near-imminent end of days with errant chore routines and rehearsed domesticity for the sake of her team, but swapping one apocalypse for another version of the Armageddeon was enough to induce internal hemorrhaging on both accounts (granted, if a certain Assassin hadn't already beat them to the punch). Ascended Fridge Horror was an eternal trope in her line of business.

But Stillman remains composed in her attempt to infuse some vestige of credibility into her message. Professionalism didn't cut slack for even post-mortem workaholics. ]

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lucy. I'm a ... researcher. In light of everything that's occurred recently, I believe it's high time that I become acquainted with you all, if only to extend my support in our shared endeavors. I'll do what I can to help.

That being said: would anyone like self-defense lessons? I realize it's not that much to offer, but if anyone needs a sparring partner, I'm capable of handling firearms, blades, blunt weapons, and hand-to-hand combat. I wouldn't be against polishing my technique with your assistance, either. Payment isn't necessary, but I do have a preference for fixed appointments. Let me know if you're interested and we'll hammer out the rest of the details together. [ There's a nearly pedestrian, lilting pause as she invokes the real intent behind using the network system to contact the general public in the first place. ]

I understand that, for better or worse, we were chosen and forcibly brought to Asgard. But the extenuating reasons behind that decision — whether it's by chance or through ulterior motives — are completely beyond me. I take it some people have had quite a long stay here, and others, like myself, have only recently arrived, but it seems we all share an equal opportunity to leave. The thing is? It isn't on our terms. Only random selection at any given time of day.

I'm open to all possible theories you might have concerning any Traveler's sudden departure, however.

And while I'm at it, is there anyone out there who's returned to Asgard from their original world on more than one occassion? If so, I'd like to ask a few general questions about the experiences in each iteration. Nothing major. [ A beat. ]

Thank you for your time. I genuinely appreciate it.

Comments

voice; -> video;

[pushesgently]

[She makes intelligent points, and he approves of the way she approaches the strange and unknown here. She doesn't strike him as the type to become a traitor to any cause she believe in. Which, he realizes, would only make her betrayal more effective.]

I'm not certain I fully agree with you, but you make a point about the preservation and retrieval of knowledge. As for when I'm from...

[What will she become here, away from her life and a war in which she played but one small part? Altaïr can't say. But it's time to end this deception-by-omission.]

I would say around a thousand years before you.

[His voice hasn't prompted recognition, because why would it? Even the accented speech that Asgard's language geas has left him with is unfamiliar. But the face that shows when Altaïr carefully changes the bracelet's setting very much is.

The lack of hood and the scar on his mouth could fool you into believe he's Desmond, if you didn't know any better. But Lucy does, so she should know exactly who this is, waiting for whatever reaction she might have. He's patient; if she chooses to continue sharing only her voice, she'll be able to conceal some of that reaction, but he has to imagine there will be some surprise.]

voice.

[sirenae]

What do y — [ The most honest lies are the ones people never say.

After disinterring recollections of days spent in the stuttering livelihood of both Templars and Assassins, she couldn't have claimed that her death had arrived as a complete shock. Moreover, Lucy was exhausted of being indebted to the broken cognition of loyalty; tying herself up in the tottering ideals of the greater good or obligations she'd never wrestle free from never did anyone favors.

But this? This was a sick apprehension skipping tracks on syncopated vinyl, a heady kind of disillusionment that left her — vehemently indignant, of all things. For someone who betrayed the confidence of others often enough, it should've been expected that eventually the action would be reciprocated, but the karmic value of just rewards didn't equivocate to excluding the truth in some bait and switch attempt at serrated fraudulence.

When she speaks again, her voice is clipped in vitriol and saturated irascibility. ]

Give me one good reason why I should even listen to anything you say from here on out. If you knew who I was and strung me along like this, then why couldn't you at least attempt to be direct about it?

voice. now private.

[pushesgently]

[Altaïr waits patiently, seemingly not perturbed that she can see him but not the other way around. He expected this; she can take the time she needs. When she does eventually speak, he seems equally unbothered by her tone.]

There is no reason for you to do so if you don't wish to. I did not speak with you to influence you, Lucy Stillman. I wanted to hear what you had to say.

[To get a read on who she is. To know how she would speak with a stranger. Conversations over magic jewelry don't reveal the heart of a person, but instincts mean something and they have to start somewhere.]

You know who I am, and I know something of who you are. We both know it would have changed things had I shown my face immediately.

[She would have been even more guarded. As it is, he's not foolish enough to believe she doesn't still guard herself. But if he can't truly know her yet, he at least has a better idea of her than he would filtered through Desmond's guilt-ridden descriptions and her own increased wariness.]