:3!
yeah!!
idk what it means exactly tho i think i can take an educated guess
yeah!!
idk what it means exactly tho i think i can take an educated guess
of course i dont!
you really want to call me a daughter though? :3
you really want to call me a daughter though? :3
[Alastair is panicking. He's half dressed, his hair is loose, and he can't stay still. He's pacing around his room in Sigyn.]
He's gone.
[The words come breathlessly and desperately, and he pulls his hair with one hand.]
Desmond is gone.
He's gone.
[The words come breathlessly and desperately, and he pulls his hair with one hand.]
Desmond is gone.
[Altaïr snaps to attention the instant he hears Alastair's voice, and he understands the words but can't process them. He gives him several moments to do as Ezio instructs rather than press him immediately.]
Slow down, Alastair. What has happened?
Slow down, Alastair. What has happened?
[He sits down on his bed heavily and tries to take a few deep breaths, but there is no being calm right now.]
He was here, we were... he was here, and then he got up and... just. He's gone. He completely disappeared.
He was here, we were... he was here, and then he got up and... just. He's gone. He completely disappeared.
[Altaïr's breath is suddenly shallow, and all he can do is listen for Alastair's answer. And that's more than he can do for Desmond, who may be gone in more ways than one.]
[Alastair's eyes travel to something the Mentors can't see: Desmond's clothes on the floor.]
Yes, but... he's gone from the network.
[He runs his hand through his hair, pulling at it too hard.]
I don't understand. I don't...
Yes, but... he's gone from the network.
[He runs his hand through his hair, pulling at it too hard.]
I don't understand. I don't...
[Altaïr doesn't even want to think of it, but he's never been one to hide from hard truths. They all know what awaits Desmond back home. He'd be better off facing Thiazi and her minions alone. At least then he'd have a chance.
It isn't fair. But when have their lives ever involved fairness? When he speaks again he's quiet—not harsh, but not showing what he feels.]
Then he has gone from Asgard. As others have gone before him.
It isn't fair. But when have their lives ever involved fairness? When he speaks again he's quiet—not harsh, but not showing what he feels.]
Then he has gone from Asgard. As others have gone before him.
No.
[The word is soft, carried on the breath of a sigh as Alastair slides down the side of the bed and lands heavily on the floor, his head in his hands.
There is a deep, yawning despair that threatens to swallow him whole. He can feel it. It terrifies him.
He can't... he's not strong enough to face it. He can't face it. Not again. Not again. He's lost too many people he's loved.
He's not strong enough.
His head leans back against the bed and he stares up at the ceiling, and slowly, very slowly, completely forgetting that the Mentors are watching, he puts the pain away where he can't feel it anymore.]
[The word is soft, carried on the breath of a sigh as Alastair slides down the side of the bed and lands heavily on the floor, his head in his hands.
There is a deep, yawning despair that threatens to swallow him whole. He can feel it. It terrifies him.
He can't... he's not strong enough to face it. He can't face it. Not again. Not again. He's lost too many people he's loved.
He's not strong enough.
His head leans back against the bed and he stares up at the ceiling, and slowly, very slowly, completely forgetting that the Mentors are watching, he puts the pain away where he can't feel it anymore.]
[They aren't without their own pain, But Alastair's—so transparent on his face for a few moments—is perhaps more worrisome for the two who have guided him like fathers.
They don't want to lose him, too.]
You are not alone. We will face this together.
They don't want to lose him, too.]
You are not alone. We will face this together.
[But he can't face it. He can't even begin to. It's too much.
He shakes his head, staring at the ceiling.]
...I can't.
He shakes his head, staring at the ceiling.]
...I can't.
If you don't come to us, we will find you.
[Not a threat. ...sounds sort of like one, though. But it's meant well.]
[Not a threat. ...sounds sort of like one, though. But it's meant well.]
[The sigh Alastair heaves is edged with the despair he's refusing to feel, and he covers his face with his hands.]
I can't do this anymore.
[He's falling apart. He can feel it. He never wanted this to happen again, but here he is.]
I can't do this anymore.
[He's falling apart. He can feel it. He never wanted this to happen again, but here he is.]
[Altaïr remains quiet, knowing that Alastair needs them but equally aware that the words of two will not accomplish any more or less than the words of one. Alastair has to pull himself out of the hole of despair, to believe in himself the way they believe in him. Only then can they grieve together.]
[He takes a deep, shuddering breath and leans forward to bury his face in his arms.]
It hurts so much.
[Pain like this demands to be felt.
But he doesn't want to feel it anymore. He wants to hide from it forever, but it always comes back. Always.]
It hurts so much.
[Pain like this demands to be felt.
But he doesn't want to feel it anymore. He wants to hide from it forever, but it always comes back. Always.]
Can I talk to you? Somewhere not in the shop, I mean.
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