Malik Greatly Disapproves. Yet Again.

[loyalrebel]

[Malik's voice cracks across the network, and he's livid.]

Seeing as it seems that any idiot who whines about it loud enough gets their way, who am I to try to keep morons without a wit of reason from getting their hands on red magic?

You all rely on magic to heal people so why not up your game to using it to kill? You won't even have to train all that hard to use it either! A couple hours and you'll be able to go to to toe with any opponent you meet in any world!

Because that's all you care about, isn't it? How easily you can manage to do something regardless of what the method is. Power is more important than being responsible with it. Who cares so long as you have magic to rely on, right?

Comments

action forever because Altair hates the psychic network 5ever

[theflyingone]

[ He rises slowly from where he had been working on the Newport Codex, surprised Malik gave him room to speak after only a few sentences. ]

And throw yourself into one of your angry diatribes, not in the privacy of the Bureau with a friend or a Brother, but on the entire psychic network? You know you speak with more sense after you have taken some time to calm down.

Follow me.

[ He begins marching towards the door to Leonardo's workshop. If they're going to talk about things that could potentially kill people, they're probably going to talk about just plain killing people too. The best place for that of course, was the Assassin's Sanctuary. Call Altaïr paranoid, but the more and more he learned about Liminal Space, the less privacy he felt he had. ]

YEP

[loyalrebel]

Nobody would hear me if I did not speak on the network.

[Seriously, it's so very useful for yelling at everyone. He will very grumblingly follow along though.]

And I am not going to lay down and accept what some idiots have done as the new way to go about things.

[theflyingone]

After you have calmed down enough to convince people to your cause. You did not even explain to any newcomers what happened. Do you think you can make people see reason when you yourself are acting unreasonable?

[ He marches with purpose up the library's stairs to the study. He shuts—not slams, thank you—the door behind them. Now all that's left is to take Machiavelli's Prince from the bookshelf and insert his hidden Blade into the "keyhole." ]

No one is going to listen to you when you are like this. I never wanted to.

[ He continues his relentless ascent into the Sanctuary. ]

[loyalrebel]

They did not listen to begin with.

[He's a little rougher than usual in his own climb up, anger coloring his movements.]

I am not sorry for speaking up.

[theflyingone]

I would not call that speaking up, I would call that making more enemies than you need to.

[ He pretty much kicks the tile, though it really only requires a tap to click back into place. The bookshelf whirs below. Now he can speak freely. His voice remains calm if steely, but his eyes flash. ]

I seem to recall a certain Novice who dreaded having to work with you. How many times did I storm out when all you had to offer me was scathing remarks? Perhaps you would have gotten through my thick skull sooner if you could just calmly, with reason and logic, express your point. The boy Eren did not kill Kadar. I did. There is still time to fix this, but you are making it very hard to come up with solutions.

[loyalrebel]

He tried to attack me when I used reason and logic to tell him I would not teach him straight away.

Red magic is more dangerous than the Apple, Altaïr. It is as deadly as you when you have been angered by a target.

[theflyingone]

I would say that I am more dangerous when I am not angry, when I have the peace within to strike true. I thought you knew the same. Whether with words or blades, we fight better when we are not busy calling our enemies goat shit. 

[ Knowing him, Malik was probably calling someone goat shit on the network right about now... ]

I know Red magic is dangerous, though I doubt it rivals the Apple in terms of mind enslavement and forbidden knowledge... How did he attack you?

[loyalrebel]

[No, just that they are the sort of flower that grows in it. There's a delicate difference.]

Altair. Would you trust yourself before Solomon's Temple with the power to rip someone's heart out or set their blood on fire within them?

That is what red magic is capable of, and even more horrifying things.

[theflyingone]

I am not here to debate its dangers or who should be able to wield it. I am here to advise you on the best way to express this among Travelers who, though it may come as a surprise to you, do not share our discipline or conviction. Snapping at someone until they figure out that they are being an ass may have worked on me, but it will not work on the vast majority of people. 

Now, you will tell what happened today, because the network is buzzing with more than just mentions of goat shit, and I can barely hear myself think.

[loyalrebel]

You need to work on that a bit then.

[It's not super hard.]

They need to get at least a little of it and fast.

He was flippiantly showing off his red magic, a fight ensued between us, I made the choice of causing him severe bodily harm or forcibly giving him the information about why I do not trust him in the slightest with that particular brand of magic.

HERE WE GO

[theflyingone]

'Forcibly giving him information' in the form of one of your cutting remarks?

[ There is just the slightest hint that Altaïr is slipping into a drawl. It was not that long ago that he sassed Malik in earnest. But he takes his jab to heart and really does try to sift through the voices clamoring over each other, amidst the wailing of a disturbed baby. (Rose, the child Traveler born here, her father had mentioned that she was connected to the network.)

What he hears troubles him more then it should, especially when the source of the trouble is Malik. ]

Explain this Interface to me.

/GIRDS LOINS.

[loyalrebel]

It is a method of directly giving or recieving information in a short period of time.

If I had thought there was even the possibility of him listening to me speaking, I would have spoken myself blue in the face until my voice fell apart and then I would have written until my fingers fell off.

[theflyingone]

Really? From what I hear spoken right now by people familiar with it, it is a connection to someone's mind. Their senses. If this is not true, then show me its nature. But you are already telling me you forced the information on him.

[ The color has drained from his face. Altaïr feels as frozen as when Al Mualim had tried to invade his mind with the Apple and could only hold him in place and create illusions. Altaïr feels that if he even so much as takes a step towards Malik, he might strike him. ]

I hold you to a higher standard than the rest of the Travelers because you should know better. We seek to open the minds of men, not attack them!

[loyalrebel]

Do you really think I would have done it if I thought I had another choice?!

I am finally out of paitence with everything and everyone, including myself. I am tired of only a few people giving a damn about anything I have to say, I am sick of having any action I take because of their refusal to listen to me turn in to me being the worst among us.

If they want to hate me for telling them things they don't want to hear then fine, but I will not appologize for doing what I see as the option of least damage when it comes down to the moment to take action.

[There's a hitch to his breath, and everything in him clenches.]

I am not going to be silent when everyone around us treats the things we get shoved in our heads as exciting games or thrilling shortcuts. We all become more and more dangerous each time we come back with something.

There has to be a line somewhere, and if this makes people think about finding it then so be it.

If it's the only useful thing I've done since getting trapped here, then I will be the villain they want.

[theflyingone]

We have always been set upon on all sides. Did you live under the illusion that we were going to please everyone, knowing what we do? We are lucky the Travelers did not turn on us the moment you left your dungeon. You should know better than to unwisely engage people like this. Did we Assassins ever face an army head on? Make ourselves known like heralds in the market? No! We hide because it is the only way we will survive. If we must reveal information, we do so without revealing ourselves.

[ Altaïr is comfortable with being disliked, having been so for years. He found a parallel in the Assassins' place in society back home. According to what Robert had planned to spread to Richard and Salahuddin's armies, they would always be the villains. ]

I am trying to see why you would ever think this was a good idea. A man of your skill does not have to resort to such measures. Did you not practice your nonlethal arts? Interface or Red magic cannot have been your only choices. What of your friends, did you even think to call them if the situation was so dire? You may not care what people think, but as a man who claims to be my friend and Brother, did you even consider how this would anger me? Personally?

[ Altaïr's voice finally softens from its scolding. He is unable to mimic Al Mualim's authority for long when a friend is obviously troubled. That, and he is feeling betrayed all over again, feeling the insidious crawl of doubt that Al Mualim used to get under his skin with the Apple. ]

It does not matter if you are out of patience, Malik. It is up to us to find it again, as men who pride ourselves on objectivity in the midst of conflict, or we risk rushing headlong into the most meaningless of massacres.

[loyalrebel]

Not all sides. We have always had allies. Informants and scholars and revolutionaries and doctors we know will not ask questions.

There was no time, and they do not understand how much of a danger he now is. How much of a danger we are all are becoming and none of them see it because they are all so in love with how much easier it makes things.

I could not see any other solution that would not end even worse for everyone here with the information I had.

[He twists suddenly, new rage filling his face as Beatrice chimes in on the network.]

That's all I'm any good for anymore, isn't it? Causing massacres.

Maybe... maybe none of you should have come and gotten me back from my dungeon.

At this point it looks like that would have been the best choice for everyone here.

whups

[theflyingone]

[ His training and Al Mualim were all he had for many years, to such a degree that he believed his Master's approval was love. Now, for the first time in so long, he has gained a true friend and confidant... who is wishing for his dungeon. Anger, fear, and worst of all, the abandonment he experienced enough of for a lifetime seizes him.

Altaïr's fist shoots forward. The decision to do so is pure reaction, but how he tempers his blow takes some thought. He does not make the punch hard, but it is certainly fast. ]

Wanting the closest thing to death in this place does not inspire enough pity to justify your actions! It only means you are giving up, and you and I both know you are too much of a pain to do that!

[loyalrebel]

[Malik doesn't block, taking the hit and jabbing right back.]

It is not about pity.

It is about realizing that no matter how hard I try, how much I fight it, I am never going to be anything more than a weapon for everyone else to point at whatever the hell they want.

[theflyingone]

[ Altaïr's hand rubs his own jaw. That they would come to blows in the first place hurts more than any bruise they might leave behind, and gives him pause, for now. Malik's face should count itself lucky. ]

You are who you chose to be! [ he snaps. ] You could walk out of here and decide to become a potter or a smith, and no one would threaten your life! Al Mualim is dead. Even while being bound by the Creed, in captivity designed by the Trumps, we are more free to make choices than we ever have been. I cannot know the choice you made without having been there, but I do know it...

[ He flounders, like he did when Al Mualim had made his cause seems so logical and sound. People were dangerous, so why not control them? ]

It was not right! It is not a blade, but the effect on the mind is the same. Eren is not an innocent, but neither is he one of our targets. Had you handled things differently, he might even be a willing ally. What if I had not stayed my hand in Jerusalem, then I would not go on to marry the woman you say I love so much. There will always be those who are a danger, born of corrupt societies, but we cannot ignore the root cause. Do you forget who our true enemies are?

[loyalrebel]

Really? Do you truly think that a one armed man can work a forge Altair? Or manage a potter's wheel?

And here among the Travelers the only actually useful skills I have are those that make me a danger to everyone else.

[There's a sharp, short laugh at the question.]

Not everyone involved in furthering a corruption is a Templar, Altair. Do we ignore a slaver or someone to kills for the pleasure of it because they are not in charge? Do we ignore a guard beating a beggar because he is not wearing the emblem of those we are in conflict with?

Is protecting people more important or is squabbling for 'magic' baubles we do not understand what we are destined for?

If only seeking out fights with Templars and hunting down the Pieces of Eden to hoard and are what we as Assassins are going to be, then I....

[He pauses, swallowing and looking away at the floor.]

I want no part of that Altair, and I would rather die than abandon the Brotherhood.

[theflyingone]

A man such as you? who learned to fight and draft maps with one arm?

[ He hates when Malik puts himself down like that. If he could learn to fight even without his new metal arm, he could do anything.

It takes Altaïr a moment to disassociate "not wanting to fight Templars" and "not wanting to speak to him ever." That is wrong, of course. So much of his life was tied up in the Brotherhood, but his job is not him. It does not need to be. His time with Adha helped him see that. The hurt expression on his face only lasts for a second, though its presence in the first place is telling. ]

Do you not remember that I too could not leave the poor and the scholars to the guards? But we cannot limit ourselves to just the symptoms and forget the cause. There are no Templars or Pieces of Eden here, only Trumps who see fit to kidnap people from their homes and force them into other lives. But this is not why I am angry with you. 

Eren is a concern, but so are you. Complain all you'd like about magic making attacks easier, but you have done the same. If you use your powers to attack the minds of others again, you become Al Mualim. The most valuable thing that dog taught me was that we are but a few shades away from the cruelty we claim to despise.

[loyalrebel]

There are things that are beyond even my ability to be stubborn.

[He can't clap back home after all.]

These powers we squabble and claw for are only minimally different from the powers of the Pieces.

All of us are a concern. I am simply the first one to be pushed over the edge by what the Trumps have been doing to us.

[theflyingone]

That you are the first troubles me. The whole point of our wisdom is to not be pushed over the edge! We do not become like them! If you are in danger of doing so, if the Trumps have become too much, you have to tell me. You cannot blame them for your lack of remorse.

I cannot abide by this. If I saw anyone else doing what you just did today, I would be after them with bare steel. [ He let the implications of that be enough. ] You must promise me never to attack a person's mind again.

[loyalrebel]

I do not know what sort of god you think I am to have a infinite well of endless calm.

[Something crosses his face, a part of him wanting that fight and the quiet that would follow the loss of it because for a brief moment he's sure he could make a purposeful slip and allow it. The calculating expression dissapears again after a moment though, replaced by something tired.]

...I forget that you are not who you will be.

I have no intention of doing it again, Altair.

I will be looking in to something to prevent myself from losing control of my temper.

[theflyingone]

[ He can see the tic that heralds more of Malik's anger, like a break in the waves. He is familiar, having directly endured months of it, even if he is not yet experienced in stymieing it. He regrets that, suddenly, and realizes this is what Malik means when he talks of the man Altaïr will be. Altaïr feels cheated out of something intangible, and that drums up an unexpected pang of both frustration and sadness. He cannot put it into words, however, even if only to ask where he went wrong. It is enough that Malik is giving his word, and Altaïr is wary of asking more of him. ]

Thank you.

[ His eyes flutter shut for a moment in unspoken relief. He does not know what he would do if Malik refused—or rather, he does, and it would most likely mean losing his first friend in... so very long. ]

I will as well. It would be irresponsible of me if I did not. Meanwhile, I will go see what damage can be repaired.