old application: 2010.
Jan. 23rd, 2012 10:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
foolnornoviceTHE PLAYER
NAME. Angel
TIMEZONE. pacific time. PST
LIKES. back-tagging, feedback, Assassin's Creed.
DISLIKES. flames, drama, other things.
NOTES. spoilers.
TIMEZONE. pacific time. PST
LIKES. back-tagging, feedback, Assassin's Creed.
DISLIKES. flames, drama, other things.
NOTES. spoilers.
THE CHARACTER
JOURNAL.foolnornovice
FULL NAME. Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad
AGE. Mid-twenties, about twenty-five or twenty-six.
SERIES. Assassin's Creed
APPEARANCE. click.
TIMELINE. 1191 AD.
CANON POINT. Just after he has cut down the master, before Al Mualim is to breathe his last.
BACKGROUND.
everything is permitted
TRAITS.
ABILITIES.
first-person
JOURNAL.
foolnornoviceFULL NAME. Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad
AGE. Mid-twenties, about twenty-five or twenty-six.
SERIES. Assassin's Creed
APPEARANCE. click.
TIMELINE. 1191 AD.
CANON POINT. Just after he has cut down the master, before Al Mualim is to breathe his last.
nothing is true
BACKGROUND.
Thrust into the world by parents who were both assassins --a Christian mother and Muslim father--, his childhood from the start had never been normal. He grew up in an organization that few dared to speak of, but more knew because of their deeds. The Order was composed of assassins, designed to combat the ideals of the Knights Templar. Both believed differently; the Order would prefer a flawed humanity, if it meant that man had his free will - the Templars sought to weave a perfect world by any means necessary, force being the answer. The Assassin's Order struggled to keep free will alive, and so they left little to no room for error. Training began from an early point in his childhood.
Where there might have been love and understanding, there was only death and obedience as such affections were observed as weakness, something that was not tolerated in the order he found himself absorbed into. He took well to the teachings due in part to the lack of distraction in the form of love from his parents, along with his teacher, Al Mualim, who raised him. When his mother and father passed, it was then there a connection was severed between Altaïr and the concept of love. No matter, they were just more nameless faces, strangers leaving his life like he already seen beforehand. It allowed the boy to focus his attentions completely on training. Quickly, he took to his studies in the trade of murder; he rose through the ranks and made his way far past his peers. His emotions were kept neat and untouched without interference from anyone who might have expressed love or towards him -- the closest anyone had been to showing something like that, had been Al Mualim, and even that he had seen through as weak, dishonest. Quickly, he reached the rank of Master Assassin and notice of those around him, whether it was admiration or disdain for him. Regardless, they were paying him some attention, and something in that fed to the arrogance taking root in his mind.
Shortly after he had attained that coveted , Al Mualim bestowed upon him a task of retrieving an artifact known as the Chalice, before the enemy did. During this journey however, he re-encountered that feeling of love, adoration - he found it in a woman named Adha, but fate was not kind. Anything was permitted and Adha was discovered as the actual chalice The Templars were quicker than he was however, they stole her from Altaïr and he was neither able to achieve the quest he'd been given nor quell the tightening of his chest. With that, he made the choice to distance himself further, and so another part of the assassin had been shut off to the world. Refocusing in the Order, Altair's mind conditioned itself to follow orders and do as told. Whatever it took to get the task done, he claimed, as long as the deed was done. As time went on however, this assassin grew too overconfident, too greedy. With his pride and title in the Order, he stepped over lines and disregarded rules- anything that fit his way was done, and whoever went against his ideals got a snide remark.
And so, the bird of prey fell.
He had bit more than he could chew and during a mission. Sent to Solomon's Temple with two other assassins, he tried for the head of Robert de Sable, the leader of the Templars, sworn enemies of The Assassins, even when it meant he was turning away from the task he had been given. No match for him, Altaïr was separated from the two he'd been sent with during the fight; he returned to the headquarters of the Order at Masyaf, empty handed. His string of consequence did not stop there, as rumors of death had been exaggerated.
One brother had died and the other was injured due to Altaïr's arrogance, yet the assassin found little regret for what he had done. His interactions with the latter dated back to long before the Crusade had begun: after all, the other was in the order. That should have been enough incentive for some sort of apology. Malik Al-Sayf, with his losses from someone else's mistake --Altaïr's mistake--, had been able to do what Altaïr had not, and retrieved the apple, an item whose potential would be revealed. Yet, even with this information and relationship, Altaïr turned the other cheek, unaware of the resentment he was provoking in who would later be his closest friend. He claimed no fault much to the outrage of the other, but soon Altaïr would learn the full impact of his actions after an attack on the village by the Templars.
For breaking all tenets of the Creed to their Order, he was deemed a traitor. He was stripped down to the rank of a Novice and forced to build his way back up again. Nine lives for his own was the offer, and all Altaïr wanted to know was where he had to start. Rank was what held importance in his mind and he still kept his attitude.
Damascus, Jerusalem, Acre. He was to work at three cities, and move from there. Arriving in Damascus first for the head of Tamir, he attempted to use his skill as a means of gaining permission from the rafiq in the city for the kill, as it was protocol in the Order. Every city that was beneath the jurisdiction of the order was headed by a rafiq; each assassin or trainee was required to report to the scholar for information and permission for a kill they were assigned. If deemed unprepared whether due to rank or an act of judgment on behalf of the rafiq, they were sent to gather information themselves and report back once they were ready. Altaïr himself was denied as he knew too little about the target, and so he traversed the streets. He gained what he needed and was given the approval - he took Tamir's life but listened to his last words.
"Such pride. It will destroy you, child..." He stole the life from the merchant but the words remained.
Moving through the Holy Land, Altaïr killed those who got in the way, and each name that was given to him. As he continued however and moved closer to the rank he had lost, the assassin found himself questioning more than he had been before. He wondered why he had been allowed to live if his arrogance had nearly cost them so much, how his targets seemed to be doing more good than the evils he had been informed of once they were on their death beds. The people he killed all had something to say, they all had justification for their actions, and each of them had him wondering who was the fool- him or them.
Venturing into Jerusalem was a blow to his pride. Malik Al-Sayf had been promoted to the rank of dai, and was made the rafiq of the bureau in Jerusalem, ensuring that their paths would cross over the duration of Altaïr's quest. Hostility was his welcoming, and to it he exchanged barbs with Malik. He went on for the head of his next target, and despite his success, Malik saw nothing more than a novice and Altaïr once again left with irritation. He continued on, and the journey began to change him the more he learned and did. He saved the lives of innocents done wrong in the streets, of the districts he visited, in the cities he was ordered to cleanse. By helping others, he began to view a change in himself - he was growing more concerned with not the idea of rank, but what the assassins did fight for: free will, peace.
With his self-discovery and experiences, Altaïr began to attempt repairs to ties that had been severed through his fall from pride.
Malik had been his companion before Solomon's Temple - the two had grown up and risen through the ranks with one another. Yet somewhere along the way, Altaïr had allowed his ego to consume, and for it, Malik suffered when he had no need to. Amends were painful and slow, but present. He began to appreciate Malik's wisdom, instead of simply brushing off what the other had to say. At his ninth target, he attended a funeral to catch the Grand Master of the Templars, Robert de Sable. Before leaving for his head however, Altaïr finally apologized, unable to take the elder's tolerance when he had not paid a single word. Malik took none of it however, claiming that the one in front of him was not the one who had been at the temple the day that his brother had been lost; the man was at a loss of words to the change within Malik more so than himself. He left to catch the final target.
He had been deceived however; a woman had been playing his decoy in order to by the Templar time. The assassin refused to kill her, claiming her gender and position as an innocent when she said the opposite. Altaïr returned to the bureau to report. Once there, tensions escalated when the Creed and the truth became the basis of their conversation - he regained some composure and withheld any resentment that was to be had for their argument and breathed in. He left after convincing the other to take to the streets, to follow him for once without risk of being reprimanded, of doing the wrong thing.
He took after Sable. Their conflict took place at the campsite of the English army - sir Richard had said to leave it to God, and the assassin turned victorious. Such a win however was empty, because Robert revealed then that, Al Mualim, his master and leader of the Assassin's Order, was a Templar himself. He had not been trying to do right, he had been trying to gain the glory for himself, to go against everything the Order had done. His teacher sought to enslave man, not allow them free will as they had preached, much to his disappointment.
Returning to the location of the Order, Masyaf, Altaïr found things were not alright. Everyone in the village had been affected, under the control of the apple. Altaïr was resistant to its effects, due to his damned curiosity, his wanting to know why to every question he could. With aid from allies such as Malik and other Assassins, he confronted Al Mualim and was forced to do battle with his master or risk losing himself. Upon killing his master, they exchanged words and his character was challenged; could he bring himself to destroy the apple he knew little about and wanted to know more of?
The apple rolled to the ground as Al Mualim breathed his last, and Altaïr held a choice.
Where there might have been love and understanding, there was only death and obedience as such affections were observed as weakness, something that was not tolerated in the order he found himself absorbed into. He took well to the teachings due in part to the lack of distraction in the form of love from his parents, along with his teacher, Al Mualim, who raised him. When his mother and father passed, it was then there a connection was severed between Altaïr and the concept of love. No matter, they were just more nameless faces, strangers leaving his life like he already seen beforehand. It allowed the boy to focus his attentions completely on training. Quickly, he took to his studies in the trade of murder; he rose through the ranks and made his way far past his peers. His emotions were kept neat and untouched without interference from anyone who might have expressed love or towards him -- the closest anyone had been to showing something like that, had been Al Mualim, and even that he had seen through as weak, dishonest. Quickly, he reached the rank of Master Assassin and notice of those around him, whether it was admiration or disdain for him. Regardless, they were paying him some attention, and something in that fed to the arrogance taking root in his mind.
Shortly after he had attained that coveted , Al Mualim bestowed upon him a task of retrieving an artifact known as the Chalice, before the enemy did. During this journey however, he re-encountered that feeling of love, adoration - he found it in a woman named Adha, but fate was not kind. Anything was permitted and Adha was discovered as the actual chalice The Templars were quicker than he was however, they stole her from Altaïr and he was neither able to achieve the quest he'd been given nor quell the tightening of his chest. With that, he made the choice to distance himself further, and so another part of the assassin had been shut off to the world. Refocusing in the Order, Altair's mind conditioned itself to follow orders and do as told. Whatever it took to get the task done, he claimed, as long as the deed was done. As time went on however, this assassin grew too overconfident, too greedy. With his pride and title in the Order, he stepped over lines and disregarded rules- anything that fit his way was done, and whoever went against his ideals got a snide remark.
And so, the bird of prey fell.
He had bit more than he could chew and during a mission. Sent to Solomon's Temple with two other assassins, he tried for the head of Robert de Sable, the leader of the Templars, sworn enemies of The Assassins, even when it meant he was turning away from the task he had been given. No match for him, Altaïr was separated from the two he'd been sent with during the fight; he returned to the headquarters of the Order at Masyaf, empty handed. His string of consequence did not stop there, as rumors of death had been exaggerated.
One brother had died and the other was injured due to Altaïr's arrogance, yet the assassin found little regret for what he had done. His interactions with the latter dated back to long before the Crusade had begun: after all, the other was in the order. That should have been enough incentive for some sort of apology. Malik Al-Sayf, with his losses from someone else's mistake --Altaïr's mistake--, had been able to do what Altaïr had not, and retrieved the apple, an item whose potential would be revealed. Yet, even with this information and relationship, Altaïr turned the other cheek, unaware of the resentment he was provoking in who would later be his closest friend. He claimed no fault much to the outrage of the other, but soon Altaïr would learn the full impact of his actions after an attack on the village by the Templars.
For breaking all tenets of the Creed to their Order, he was deemed a traitor. He was stripped down to the rank of a Novice and forced to build his way back up again. Nine lives for his own was the offer, and all Altaïr wanted to know was where he had to start. Rank was what held importance in his mind and he still kept his attitude.
Damascus, Jerusalem, Acre. He was to work at three cities, and move from there. Arriving in Damascus first for the head of Tamir, he attempted to use his skill as a means of gaining permission from the rafiq in the city for the kill, as it was protocol in the Order. Every city that was beneath the jurisdiction of the order was headed by a rafiq; each assassin or trainee was required to report to the scholar for information and permission for a kill they were assigned. If deemed unprepared whether due to rank or an act of judgment on behalf of the rafiq, they were sent to gather information themselves and report back once they were ready. Altaïr himself was denied as he knew too little about the target, and so he traversed the streets. He gained what he needed and was given the approval - he took Tamir's life but listened to his last words.
"Such pride. It will destroy you, child..." He stole the life from the merchant but the words remained.
Moving through the Holy Land, Altaïr killed those who got in the way, and each name that was given to him. As he continued however and moved closer to the rank he had lost, the assassin found himself questioning more than he had been before. He wondered why he had been allowed to live if his arrogance had nearly cost them so much, how his targets seemed to be doing more good than the evils he had been informed of once they were on their death beds. The people he killed all had something to say, they all had justification for their actions, and each of them had him wondering who was the fool- him or them.
Venturing into Jerusalem was a blow to his pride. Malik Al-Sayf had been promoted to the rank of dai, and was made the rafiq of the bureau in Jerusalem, ensuring that their paths would cross over the duration of Altaïr's quest. Hostility was his welcoming, and to it he exchanged barbs with Malik. He went on for the head of his next target, and despite his success, Malik saw nothing more than a novice and Altaïr once again left with irritation. He continued on, and the journey began to change him the more he learned and did. He saved the lives of innocents done wrong in the streets, of the districts he visited, in the cities he was ordered to cleanse. By helping others, he began to view a change in himself - he was growing more concerned with not the idea of rank, but what the assassins did fight for: free will, peace.
With his self-discovery and experiences, Altaïr began to attempt repairs to ties that had been severed through his fall from pride.
Malik had been his companion before Solomon's Temple - the two had grown up and risen through the ranks with one another. Yet somewhere along the way, Altaïr had allowed his ego to consume, and for it, Malik suffered when he had no need to. Amends were painful and slow, but present. He began to appreciate Malik's wisdom, instead of simply brushing off what the other had to say. At his ninth target, he attended a funeral to catch the Grand Master of the Templars, Robert de Sable. Before leaving for his head however, Altaïr finally apologized, unable to take the elder's tolerance when he had not paid a single word. Malik took none of it however, claiming that the one in front of him was not the one who had been at the temple the day that his brother had been lost; the man was at a loss of words to the change within Malik more so than himself. He left to catch the final target.
He had been deceived however; a woman had been playing his decoy in order to by the Templar time. The assassin refused to kill her, claiming her gender and position as an innocent when she said the opposite. Altaïr returned to the bureau to report. Once there, tensions escalated when the Creed and the truth became the basis of their conversation - he regained some composure and withheld any resentment that was to be had for their argument and breathed in. He left after convincing the other to take to the streets, to follow him for once without risk of being reprimanded, of doing the wrong thing.
He took after Sable. Their conflict took place at the campsite of the English army - sir Richard had said to leave it to God, and the assassin turned victorious. Such a win however was empty, because Robert revealed then that, Al Mualim, his master and leader of the Assassin's Order, was a Templar himself. He had not been trying to do right, he had been trying to gain the glory for himself, to go against everything the Order had done. His teacher sought to enslave man, not allow them free will as they had preached, much to his disappointment.
Returning to the location of the Order, Masyaf, Altaïr found things were not alright. Everyone in the village had been affected, under the control of the apple. Altaïr was resistant to its effects, due to his damned curiosity, his wanting to know why to every question he could. With aid from allies such as Malik and other Assassins, he confronted Al Mualim and was forced to do battle with his master or risk losing himself. Upon killing his master, they exchanged words and his character was challenged; could he bring himself to destroy the apple he knew little about and wanted to know more of?
The apple rolled to the ground as Al Mualim breathed his last, and Altaïr held a choice.
everything is permitted
TRAITS.
Merciless, devoid of emotion, swift, strong, death. From the eyes of the citizen who only sees enough to bear witness to the crime, these are words they may claim of him.
He comes and goes with hardly a word; only those who hold his interest are spared a second of his time. His skill with the blade has earned him quite a name, quite a rank, and it has rendered him quite capable of fulfilling whatever task he is given as an assassin. With this title he gains enemies, he gains allies, but at first it doesn't quite register with him that he needs to earn respect from others, not expect it upon a silver plate. It comes slowly, but he is starting to realize his faults, he remains a man different from the rest.
Due of the environment he grew up in, he holds a difficult time expressing himself in shades that aren't related to anger or apathy, but those emotions are present, merely suppressed. From another perspective, the assassin has simply learned how to keep his emotions in check - most of them. He does not hold respect to those do not treat him the same, no matter position; this is evident in his demands of his late master, Al Mualim. In terms for the short, he does not care who he openly defies, so long as his opinon is known and the truth is out. Shouting at people easily, he has little problem with, and time has been both cruel and kind to him. During his life, he has learned more about himself than he might not have had he not fallen as hard as he had.
Still, some habits refuse to die. His honesty remains blunt no matter the situation, his sympathy is rare, and he still remains the bold one willing to doing everything that is permitted, for the sake of peace, for the interests of the people around him whom he fights for. Those who consider themselves close however are able to provoke him to ire, even a smile if they are lucky enough, for they know what makes him tick. His pride is still a problem. He works to fix his faults each and every day he walks the streets. It is anything but a smooth transition.
Such a change does not mean that he is any less menacing, threatening.
His fears are few, his strengths are many due in part to this, and he refuses to kneel towards weakness, fighting it instead at every chance he gets. He is a patient man, willing to fight for his beliefs and not hesitating to see it through to the best of his ability. He is quick to learn, well-versed because of training but at the same time always wanting to know more. At times, he is wise-- even a philosopher at times due to his inability not to question everything, to find what is truth and what isn't. The man is capable of sensible choices and quick thinking because of his growth; he realizes the consequences of his actions. He has become more humble, patient, understanding of others as best as he can, considering he is struggle to still change himself. He has turned his mindset and realized his problems; once concerned with only the idea of rank, he has moved onto focusing solely on the interests of the people, the Order.
Now, his eyes are able to see what he wishes for; peace in all things, the freedom for men to do what they seek as the Assassins have fought for time and time again. This will not come easy however, he knows this. The Order cannot keep to traditions, and if it does, the new world will have no place for them. They need to adapt, or die within their conventions. This leads to his dedication to the Order. Before his own humanity, he is an assassin; dedicated to his work and nothing else. He seeks to finish the job before his own needs. The Creed is his way of life, not a light influence on his decisions.
He comes and goes with hardly a word; only those who hold his interest are spared a second of his time. His skill with the blade has earned him quite a name, quite a rank, and it has rendered him quite capable of fulfilling whatever task he is given as an assassin. With this title he gains enemies, he gains allies, but at first it doesn't quite register with him that he needs to earn respect from others, not expect it upon a silver plate. It comes slowly, but he is starting to realize his faults, he remains a man different from the rest.
Due of the environment he grew up in, he holds a difficult time expressing himself in shades that aren't related to anger or apathy, but those emotions are present, merely suppressed. From another perspective, the assassin has simply learned how to keep his emotions in check - most of them. He does not hold respect to those do not treat him the same, no matter position; this is evident in his demands of his late master, Al Mualim. In terms for the short, he does not care who he openly defies, so long as his opinon is known and the truth is out. Shouting at people easily, he has little problem with, and time has been both cruel and kind to him. During his life, he has learned more about himself than he might not have had he not fallen as hard as he had.
Still, some habits refuse to die. His honesty remains blunt no matter the situation, his sympathy is rare, and he still remains the bold one willing to doing everything that is permitted, for the sake of peace, for the interests of the people around him whom he fights for. Those who consider themselves close however are able to provoke him to ire, even a smile if they are lucky enough, for they know what makes him tick. His pride is still a problem. He works to fix his faults each and every day he walks the streets. It is anything but a smooth transition.
Such a change does not mean that he is any less menacing, threatening.
His fears are few, his strengths are many due in part to this, and he refuses to kneel towards weakness, fighting it instead at every chance he gets. He is a patient man, willing to fight for his beliefs and not hesitating to see it through to the best of his ability. He is quick to learn, well-versed because of training but at the same time always wanting to know more. At times, he is wise-- even a philosopher at times due to his inability not to question everything, to find what is truth and what isn't. The man is capable of sensible choices and quick thinking because of his growth; he realizes the consequences of his actions. He has become more humble, patient, understanding of others as best as he can, considering he is struggle to still change himself. He has turned his mindset and realized his problems; once concerned with only the idea of rank, he has moved onto focusing solely on the interests of the people, the Order.
Now, his eyes are able to see what he wishes for; peace in all things, the freedom for men to do what they seek as the Assassins have fought for time and time again. This will not come easy however, he knows this. The Order cannot keep to traditions, and if it does, the new world will have no place for them. They need to adapt, or die within their conventions. This leads to his dedication to the Order. Before his own humanity, he is an assassin; dedicated to his work and nothing else. He seeks to finish the job before his own needs. The Creed is his way of life, not a light influence on his decisions.
"Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent."
"Hide in plain sight, be one with the crowd".
"Never compromise the Brotherhood."
No matter the task, if he decides upon it then that drive stays with him until the end now. Nothing is true, everything is permitted. That is what he believes above all as the maxim of the Order; nothing can sway his mind. To those he knows not of, he is tolerant until the first impression; the judgment is silent but it is there. Should one clash with his ideals however, he will defend what he believes in, and depending on the situation, will either resist, resolve, or remove the problem.
In short, he is a serious man who works hard and pursues as the other men do, exhausts himself as other men do, and lives as other men do, just in a difference sense. He remains the quiet man he has always been, maybe even quieter. To his close friends, acquaintances, brothers and allies, he is seen as skilled, capable of much more in ability and personality than he had been weeks ago.
He has such a ways to go.
In short, he is a serious man who works hard and pursues as the other men do, exhausts himself as other men do, and lives as other men do, just in a difference sense. He remains the quiet man he has always been, maybe even quieter. To his close friends, acquaintances, brothers and allies, he is seen as skilled, capable of much more in ability and personality than he had been weeks ago.
He has such a ways to go.
ABILITIES.
A quick learner from an early age, skill has been the strength of this man. As a master assassin, Altaïr is capable of using many different weapons; short swords, throwing knives, daggers, broadswords, long swords... He even possesses a hidden blade on his left arm. The blade extends from beneath his sleeve and in exchange for it, Altaïr has given up his ring finger. Beyond that, Altaïr shows potential in crafting weapons and is skilled in the application of deadly arts. The assassin also has knowledge in hand to hand combat and stealth assassination techniques. If one method will not work, he always has another, and they are always getting better. Agile and well built due to training that had begun in his childhood, Altair has been trained extensively to the point where he can overcome any obstacle given, climb any wall that stands before him and his target, carrying his own body weight and the excess that comes with the heavy arsenal he carries upon himself. His frame is built for endurance, strength, speed, and stealth; it bears scars from such conditioning. He is capable of reaching places normally thought inaccessible, by physical means both through stealth and force. Other skills he holds involve eavesdropping, pickpocketing, free-running, interrogation, and so on. He is not merely muscle, his knowledge extends to politics and religion, as it is required of all members of the Order.
Another skill granted to those of the assassin lineage is the power known as Eagle Vision. Through this ability, an assassin can differentiate innocents and hostiles from the crowd, along with targets and sources of information. With the skill in hand, all color fades from the world except white, yellow, red, and blue, where the mentioned are used to differentiate friend from foe, target from refuge, and so on. This comes in handy when revealing a liar from the truth, things of that sort. During use of this ability, Altaïr's eyes flash gold and he is subject to remaining stationary. He knows no fear in the world he lives; heights do not faze him, death is part of his life, and the unknown only challenges him to pursue it.
Because of his parents, Altaïr is fluent in both English and Arabic; he possesses a lack of accent but his pronunciation is second to none. Living during the crusades also, he is only familiar with what is on hand - no gunpowder, no computers, no phones; such luxuries do not exist, and he would see them as unnecessary anyway. To further this idea of modern technology being distant, there are future journal entries he has written with designs for a firearm never imagined before his time: anything after the Crusades is foreign to him, and under most circumstances, unbelievable, absurd.
Another skill granted to those of the assassin lineage is the power known as Eagle Vision. Through this ability, an assassin can differentiate innocents and hostiles from the crowd, along with targets and sources of information. With the skill in hand, all color fades from the world except white, yellow, red, and blue, where the mentioned are used to differentiate friend from foe, target from refuge, and so on. This comes in handy when revealing a liar from the truth, things of that sort. During use of this ability, Altaïr's eyes flash gold and he is subject to remaining stationary. He knows no fear in the world he lives; heights do not faze him, death is part of his life, and the unknown only challenges him to pursue it.
Because of his parents, Altaïr is fluent in both English and Arabic; he possesses a lack of accent but his pronunciation is second to none. Living during the crusades also, he is only familiar with what is on hand - no gunpowder, no computers, no phones; such luxuries do not exist, and he would see them as unnecessary anyway. To further this idea of modern technology being distant, there are future journal entries he has written with designs for a firearm never imagined before his time: anything after the Crusades is foreign to him, and under most circumstances, unbelievable, absurd.
SAMPLES.
first-person
third-person
Too long, he took pains to remind himself.
Bright eyes turned to the window and he recoiled, meeting the light that dripped out from behind the curtains. A shake of the head and he moved across the room to the idle bookshelf, dust collecting upon the pages he'd made no attempt to move, the spots from where he'd taken books and had not yet returned them. Pulling another one by the binding, his fingers took to the ends and turned without much consideration for the dust that fell to the ground. A soft breath fell from his lips, disappointment apparent from the click of his tongue to the brief gnashing of his teeth.
He narrowed his eyes at the text and exhaled, turning his head away as if almost disgusted, but not. Shutting the text, he turned the book sideways and set it atop the rest of the books instead of its original spot. Something to reader later, if nothing else yielded the answers he was searching for.
Another wall, more time wasted upon this research but he reassured himself that results would be worth the effort. There was no gain without the loss, but the longer he spent within these walls? He hardly trusted himself alone, but he knew himself capable - rather, he believed —hoped, maybe— himself with the capacity for such feats. Those eyes shifted over the arrangement again, and he moved to pull another book from the hold.
Not enough time, too long.
Bright eyes turned to the window and he recoiled, meeting the light that dripped out from behind the curtains. A shake of the head and he moved across the room to the idle bookshelf, dust collecting upon the pages he'd made no attempt to move, the spots from where he'd taken books and had not yet returned them. Pulling another one by the binding, his fingers took to the ends and turned without much consideration for the dust that fell to the ground. A soft breath fell from his lips, disappointment apparent from the click of his tongue to the brief gnashing of his teeth.
He narrowed his eyes at the text and exhaled, turning his head away as if almost disgusted, but not. Shutting the text, he turned the book sideways and set it atop the rest of the books instead of its original spot. Something to reader later, if nothing else yielded the answers he was searching for.
Another wall, more time wasted upon this research but he reassured himself that results would be worth the effort. There was no gain without the loss, but the longer he spent within these walls? He hardly trusted himself alone, but he knew himself capable - rather, he believed —hoped, maybe— himself with the capacity for such feats. Those eyes shifted over the arrangement again, and he moved to pull another book from the hold.
Not enough time, too long.
FURTHER REFERENCES.
Notes.
He's going to carry a lot of weapons.
