synopsychic | (no subject)

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

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.

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?

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.

[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.

[ 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.

Edited 2018-08-10 22:50 (UTC)

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.

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.

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.

...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. ]

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?

[ 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.

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?

[ Altaïr's name is a weird one. No one named their kids after the birds that flew in the sky or the brightest star in the constellation Aquila.

[ Eliot seems to be another history nerd like Thorne. It's hard, being history... He's unnerved his secret could be discerned in such a way, though that anger is also similar to the indignation anyone else might feel at being called one of the feared scourges of society. He runs with it. He responds the only way he can: ]

Of course not! Do you go around accusing every man of some skill of being a murderer hiding in the mountains? I am a scholar. I travel, at risk to my life, bringing books and knowledge between cities despite the war.

No, not usually. [The reply does sound slightly apologetic, at least - while Eliot may know a lot of history, be familiar with multiple ancient languages, he doesn't always take into account the personal context of those historical facts.] But there aren't exactly many "normal" people here. Most people here come from some sort of extraordinary background, and that was the first one that came to mind ... sorry.

'Extraordinary' is a strange way to say 'feared and hated.' Well, I think it is extraordinary that I survive the roads alone. They're crawling with soldiers, who can be worse than bandits. You're one of those people who would have mistaken me for one of Salahuddin's men as well. I should have known.

[ Off to a great start... ]

[pause] Why should you have known? [dryly]

Your mistaken assumptions about me, most of all. Best to keep those to yourself if you want to talk with anyone not from your home.

[ ... yes, but Eliot is asking why Altair should have known that Eliot would make those mistaken assumptions, and ... you know what. Nevermind.]

So I guess the teaching is off the table now? [disappointing]

If I had nothing to teach you, and I would guess that includes care with how you speak, I would not be talking of it. I am past the days of refusing to help someone out of spite, and this will not be my first time working with someone I may not get along with. But know that I am a harsh teacher regardless. I cannot be merciful, because someone attacking you surely won't.

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/dies

Poor Altair. XD

Re: Poor Altair. XD

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