(no subject)

[unapologeticallyaffected]

Please, somebody tell me there's a hairdresser around here somewhere. Because this is getting ridiculous.

Comments

[unapologeticallyaffected]

Oh, god. No.

[theflyingone]

[ He resists the urge to roll his eyes, even if no one would see. ]

A hat?

[unapologeticallyaffected]

I really don't see the point in treating the symptoms, instead of curing the problem.

[theflyingone]

It is only a temporary measure. You cannot always rely on another person.

[unapologeticallyaffected]

My hair might be ridiculous without a cut, but it isn't that ridiculous. I'm sure I can manage with enough product.

[He is kind of amused with how serious you sound about all this, Altair, even if you are not actually taking it seriously. You're adorable.]

[theflyingone]

[ He is a serious person. For someone who usually wears his hair short, shaves cursorily, and calls it a day, he takes Jaunt disguises very seriously. ]

It is a disadvantage in a fight, I'll admit...

[unapologeticallyaffected]

Oh ... right. You're one of those people. [No judgment in his tone, just a sudden realization of something.] I don't actually make many fashion choices based on if it might get me beat up or not - I stopped doing it around age 15 when I figured out I was going to get beat up anyway.

[theflyingone]

You surely will, with that spirit. Have you thought of taking lessons? Traveling can be dangerous, and we have no say where we will end up.

[unapologeticallyaffected]

Oh, you misunderstand. I thought that way when I was in middle and high school. [little chuckle] It's not exactly an issue any more, and when it is, it's not my hair that's the problem. I'm a magician.

[theflyingone]

There are some Jaunts where flaunting strange powers might get us killed.

[ There's a flat, sort of disapproving feeling that comes with his words, like he's had to tell others this before. ]

[unapologeticallyaffected]

Who said anything about flaunting? I might have a flare for the dramatic, and I suppose some people have called me ostentatious (people with no taste, of course), but I'm not an idiot.

[theflyingone]

In theory, how would you explain escaping a fight unscathed?

[unapologeticallyaffected]

Trade secret. [pauses] Do you actually know how to fight?

[theflyingone]

Yes, I do. Anyone trained to fight would be able to tell if someone was not. This is why I ask what you might say if you escaped one unharmed. If I did not know you had magic, I would not believe your story.

[unapologeticallyaffected]

I don't think that anyone trained has the magical ability to tell if someone else is. [points out] There are a million different levels of training, and all kinds of fighting styles. I've seen Drunken Master, there are even styles that look sloppy.

[That said, Eliot honestly has no idea how to fight. But if his future vision is true, he learns somewhere along the way.] But are you willing to teach? For purposes of verisimilitude?

[theflyingone]

It's not sorcery, it's skill. If someone was skilled enough to hide the way they walk and move from someone observant, it is possible they could pass unnoticed.

[ Drunken Master... intriguing... Where can he observe this... ]

Certainly. But I require my students learn how to blend in or escape from trouble before I teach anything beyond self defense.

[unapologeticallyaffected]

[Altair, if you want to see a Jackie Chan movie, Eliot can totally show you a Jackie Chan movie.]

I'm fine with self defense - but what do you mean by 'blend in' or 'escape from trouble'? There are lots of ways to do both of those, but you sound like you mean something in particular.

[theflyingone]

[ Please introduce him to Jackie Chan and add creative fighting props to his repertoire. ]

Blending in can be as simple as hiding in a crowd, convincing everyone you are a local, or wearing a disguise, or as complicated as using years of education to pass as a person of a different trade. Traveling in my land is dangerous because of the war, so I learned to do all these to avoid trouble.

[ That was his standard excuse for his skillset, and--setting aside high-profile assassinations--mostly the truth. ]

Escaping from trouble requires more physical effort. You not only have to outrun your enemy, but move over and past obstacles most people would be stopped by, sometimes climbing up buildings and using the roofs. Whatever is the fastest way to move. After breaking their line of sight, you would also have to find spots to hide in seconds.

[unapologeticallyaffected]

So spy stuff and parkour. Hm.

[Pause, then] If you teach me the self-defense part, I can show you some other fighting styles that would ... broaden your horizons.

[theflyingone]

Yes, I want to know more of this Drunken Master. [ He's got "Master" in his name, surely he must be good. ] We may not have time to see the benefits of the lessons before this Liminal is over. If you are in good health after next Jaunt, I will expect you to be available next Liminal.

[unapologeticallyaffected]

Ooh, so demanding. I like it~ [Eliot purrs, though it's more of a reflex flirtation than anything serious.] Fair, I'm picking up a new kind of magic this time around, anyway.

I'm Eliot, by the way. Eliot Waugh.

/dies

[theflyingone]

...I'm your teacher, I'm supposed to ask things of you.

[ He hasn't yet gotten to The Police's "Don't Stand So Close to Me" in the library's collection of records, as he is still working his way through Johnny Cash and Blondie. ]

Altaïr. [ He came from an era where people could be mostly known by a first name and some sort of descriptor. His hometown wasn't really relevant since most Travelers didn't know it. Same for his father's name. His job title, Mentor of the Levantine Assassins, was a secret. ]

Poor Altair. XD

[unapologeticallyaffected]

Yes, teacher. Are you going to punish me if I don't do well in class? [The tone is still teasing, playful, and very definitely flirtatious, but he drops it after a moment, to address the introduction.]

Altaïr. [Eliot repeats it back with perhaps surprisingly good pronunciation.] That's Arabic, isn't it? What year are you from, do you know?

Re: Poor Altair. XD

[theflyingone]

[ The feeling the Network conveys is of confusion at first, which quickly turns to amusement. ]

If my wife were here, she would put your face on the ground with one arm.

[ He misses her fiercely, but his time of grieving and not speaking of her to anyone is over. ]

It was 587 when I was taken here. [ A pause, then, ] That is 1191 by the Christian calendar.

[unapologeticallyaffected]

My kind of woman. My boyfriend would probably just pout. [This said very fondly.]

Medieval, huh? [He had been required to study history and language at college, the Arabic languages were very common in magic, and it suddenly clicks with the skills Altaïr had been mentioning. Ninja skills.]

[He switches to a private message when he asks, with great interest] Wait, so are you Hashishin? Fedayeen?