Altaïr ibn La-Ahad (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theflyingone) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-05-11 08:45 pm
theflyingone) wrote in thecapitol2015-05-11 08:45 pm
Entry tags:
And that is why you remain a novice
Who| Altaïr ibn La-Ahad and anyone vaguely interested in drawing
What| DRAWING/teaching drawing if asked
Where| Central Commons, maybe also D11 floor or the roof
When| may 11-14 perhaps?
Warnings/Notes| Assassins drawing flowers
He was reluctant to demonstrate even the most unassuming skill in front of these "cameras" he'd been warned about, especially since he promised someone he'd draw something else of a much more rebellious nature. But there were new drawing tools in this strange land, and he felt obligated to at least try them out in his downtime. Even an overachiever like him knew he couldn't leap across roofs tracking Peacekeeper patrol routes with no rest for his limbs. In a few hours he might sleep or scout the city again.
He procured some pieces of paper and idly drew lines in various types of pens. Ballpoint didn't do justice to the curling forms of the birds or plants he made. But that was why he purchased some ink and a few dried reeds from a flower-arranging shop. He cut them into flat-nibbed pens with knives in the kitchen (and reluctantly put the knives back).
With calloused hands he sketched and inked without intent, which was unlike him. He always did things with a purpose, but at least this was better than sitting in a corner lamenting his captivity. He drew animals, plants, and random decorative motifs. He very carefully avoided drawing people, fearing the faces of those he knew at home might show up in them.
What| DRAWING/teaching drawing if asked
Where| Central Commons, maybe also D11 floor or the roof
When| may 11-14 perhaps?
Warnings/Notes| Assassins drawing flowers
He was reluctant to demonstrate even the most unassuming skill in front of these "cameras" he'd been warned about, especially since he promised someone he'd draw something else of a much more rebellious nature. But there were new drawing tools in this strange land, and he felt obligated to at least try them out in his downtime. Even an overachiever like him knew he couldn't leap across roofs tracking Peacekeeper patrol routes with no rest for his limbs. In a few hours he might sleep or scout the city again.
He procured some pieces of paper and idly drew lines in various types of pens. Ballpoint didn't do justice to the curling forms of the birds or plants he made. But that was why he purchased some ink and a few dried reeds from a flower-arranging shop. He cut them into flat-nibbed pens with knives in the kitchen (and reluctantly put the knives back).
With calloused hands he sketched and inked without intent, which was unlike him. He always did things with a purpose, but at least this was better than sitting in a corner lamenting his captivity. He drew animals, plants, and random decorative motifs. He very carefully avoided drawing people, fearing the faces of those he knew at home might show up in them.
no subject
"Only pictures. I like to draw horses and battles, like Father's in." Bayard's face glows with an enraptured reverence when he speaks of his father, and thinks of the good Colonel protecting the women and children of Jefferson against the might of the Yankees with only his wit and his horse and a handful of rejects from the army proper. "What profession are you, sir, if you ain't an artist?"
no subject
"I grew up in a scholar's library," he answered evasively, voice smooth with practice. "I was taught to write and speak in different languages from a young age. I visit other scholars in the cities and bring them information." He neglected to say that he visited Assassins posing as potters and cartigraphers in addition to actual scholars.
He picked up one of Bayard's papers. "You would like to draw what you've seen, yes? I have not seen a horse here since I arrived. It might be difficult to find a suitable subject.... If you do, remember that the eye sees truly, but the mind plays tricks, and so guides your hand wrongly." He wasn't going to mince words. The drawings needed some work. "The first step is always to see clearly. Do not trust in what you think to be true, only what you see. Unless the horses in your land are different, you've forgotten a few bones." He pointed with the other end of his pen to the relevant spots on their legs.
"Your father is a soldier?"
no subject
Bayard may not make much of a good artist, but he is an ardent student, and responds to Altair's instructions with nothing short of rapt attention. When Altair points out the missing bones, Bayard leans in to look at his drawing, squinting and not taking it a bit personally, surfacing with a guileless smile to say "I reckon you're right about that. Lord knows I been around horses enough, I don't know how I thought their legs looked like that."
He takes a seat on one of the stone benches next to Altair.
"He's a Colonel, sir." Bayard beams with such pride that one might mistake him for being the bearer of such a title.
no subject
He was talking to the son of a military commander, if his hunch was right. Not really the type of people Altaïr liked to work with, since he found himself mostly outside of the law and purposefully avoiding any side of a war. Soldiers and guards had the red aura of an enemy in his second sight. He guarded his expression.
"You must be very proud," he stated the obvious. "I took my father's profession as soon as I was old enough. Do you plan to do the same?"
no subject
He nods eagerly. "If there's still a war to be fought, I'll be registering in a few years. You're supposed to be sixteen but I don't reckon anyone will stop me if I do it a few months before. And you? When were you old enough?"
no subject
"As soon as I learned what it meant to wield a blade," he said, still evasive as ever. "Any attempt to lay it down since then has failed. My cause is peace and the protection of innocents. Even without the Crusaders, my home has been surrounded by states vying for succession and power. Every noble believes himself a king, every king believes himself or his faith wrongly attacked, and they will drag their people into battle with them whether they will it or not."
His voice grew harder than he intended. He'd seen the battlefields of the Crusade and the bodies still being picked at by crows in Acre. With Adha, maybe, he might have stopped fighting and embraced a life of peace. But that dream died with her.
"You should wait until you are of age. You will miss having your hands free once you put a sword in them."
no subject
"It don't matter what I'll miss, sir. It matters what protects us and our way of life best. If I ought to lay down my life for Mississippi, or even just for Jefferson, I will with pride."
no subject
"I do not know what those people or places are—or your way of life, for that matter. But you spoke of protecting innocents. Never forget to do that."
The first part of the Assassins' Creed ordered them to stay their blades from innocents. Altaïr had broken that rule, among others, when he skirted the fine line between killing a possible snitch or finding another path around him. Al Mualim had everything taken from him and made him start over in rank, but Altaïr still had enough pride to continue fighting for ideals he was more sure about. Those who could not defend themselves against corrupt guards or tyrants had an ally in him. It made him friends among common folk and vigilantes, but it also made him enemies.
"It will set you apart," he warned. "You may even be persecuted for it."
no subject
He sits down and starts to draw a bit more, trying to imitate the beautiful designs Altair has been working on.
"I don't care if I'm persecuted. Jesus Christ was persecuted too, I hear, and he saved all of mankind. At least, that's what my Granny tells me."
super old, feel free to drop this if you want
He made no mention of his own goals, to fight for that until he could no longer. Altaïr was still young enough to think that if he just tried hard enough, problems would be solved. He could not understand an older man's wish to retire and lay down their sword because they thought they'd done enough. Altaïr had left off his drawing now, too distracted by thoughts he had a hard time putting into words. He spoke haltingly,
"I was taught it is better to live for others than to die, to escape danger to fight another day. But I was also taught not to fear death and the rewards it brings... Even now I am not sure of the reward, but I have always been more concerned with how I carve my mark on this world than the next."