[Altaïr is a quiet type, probably even quieter than Connor, so he's easy to miss around the manor. Still, Connor hasn't seen him this morning, and he has no idea why the other Assassin would just take off and leave without notice. He has to still be around somewhere.
So Connor will be going from room to room, checking each in turn. He thinks he can hear a sound like claws on wood and the rustling of birds' wings, but he's pretty sure he's just imagining it... This big old house sometimes plays tricks on the ears.]
[ Even Altaïr's panicking was relatively quiet; his episode that morning had been muffled by wings fouled in bedsheets and the surprising pain of some kind of flight-feather getting bent out of shape as an 'arm' hit the headboard. Being a six-limbed flying lizard is much more difficult on a mechanical level than he'd ever imagined, and he realises now that he hasn't been giving his ancestor much credit.
It isn't entirely unexpected; Desmond's difficulties have prepared him for the eventuality. Luckily. By mid-morning, and about when he's missed, he's well over the shock and has managed to seat himself neatly in a coil of tail and feathers on his desk to continue reading the treatise on achromatic telescopes he'd liberated from a shelf elsewhere in the manor the previous evening. He's interested in the potential when combined with his vision, but actually acquiring one will need to wait until he has thumbs again. He keeps his rune nearby to monitor any progress on the causes behind the transformation, but isn't about to just leave the homestead without notifying anyone.
Engrossed as he is, he still notices when someone - Connor, most likely - starts to move around the manor. He places a claw against the page to mark his place, and looks up as the other Assassin comes into view in the hallway. ]
[For all that he's been trying to help Desmond, nothing prepared Connor for seeing what could only be Altaïr in dragon form as well. Reading a book as though nothing is strange about this situation whatsoever. Connor casts his eyes up to the heavens, letting out a sigh of exasperation, then strides into the room.]
They did this to you, as well? [The jury is still out on who "they" are -- other dragons, more mischievous fairies, or something else entirely. Whoever's responsible, Connor is starting to get tired of this.] Why did you not tell me as soon as you transformed?
I didn't see a need. [ He pauses, having not spoken in this shape yet. The sensation is unpleasant. He sits up properly, wings mantling in a movement that took over an hour to get right, in case that makes it easier. ]
Unless you found a cure in the time since we last spoke, in which case my apologies.
[He'd still want to know, because he worries. Not that he'd tell Altaïr after being on the receiving end of dat sass.]
Are you just going to sit and read and expect me to find one for you, then? [He casts an eye over the shredded bed and hopes Altaïr won't damage that book. If Achilles were here he'd be throwing fits about dragons that need to get off his lawn and stop ruining his property.]
[ Have you ever seen a dragon trying not to look affronted, Connor. Because congrats. The book he slides to the side as he gets to his feet, flipping the cover closed with the pad of one toe. Missing one of his toes on his forepaw gives him a little more dexterity, ironically. ] I needed time to adjust to this shape.
[ He follows the look towards the bed. In retrospect he should have slept on something less expensive until the danger of spontaneously becoming a lizard had passed. At least he sounds mildly ashamed; he fully intends to either repair or replace the bedclothes as an act of good faith. ] As you can see.
[Connor just shakes his head and crosses his arms. Yes, he can see it, and he has no idea what he's doing to do with two Assassins-turned-dragons. Looking after Korrin is much easier than this: at least she knows how to be a dragon.]
This is not the first time such an incident has occured, but we were able to find the one responsible within a week. If we are able to do the same this time, you and Desmond will not be trapped as you are for long.
[ Don't worry, Connor. Altaïr is small enough to be self-sufficient. ] Good. There are advantages to this form, but not as many as I'd imagined. Were you looking for me?
[He nods.] I was going to ask if you wished to join me for hunting, for Desmond. I thought perhaps I could show you some of what I know. But as you are now...
[Well, he's not exactly going to be offering treerunning lessons to a dragon.]
[ He'd been anticipating their expedition. Navigating this new country is difficult enough, he wants to be more sure of himself before venturing forth into other havens. If at all possible, he'd prefer to accompany Connor, dragon or not. Experimentally, he spreads his wings to see how his coordination's doing; apparently the movement satisfies him. His eyes are better than ever. No reason to put it off. ]
Dragons are predators; I'll surely be of use in the hunt. [ his feathers all but puff up. ] I may still watch you, even if I cannot move like myself.
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agestocome) wrote2013-08-23 02:44 pm
fluffy dragon petting u no u no
So Connor will be going from room to room, checking each in turn. He thinks he can hear a sound like claws on wood and the rustling of birds' wings, but he's pretty sure he's just imagining it... This big old house sometimes plays tricks on the ears.]
he's in his room :Tb
It isn't entirely unexpected; Desmond's difficulties have prepared him for the eventuality. Luckily. By mid-morning, and about when he's missed, he's well over the shock and has managed to seat himself neatly in a coil of tail and feathers on his desk to continue reading the treatise on achromatic telescopes he'd liberated from a shelf elsewhere in the manor the previous evening. He's interested in the potential when combined with his vision, but actually acquiring one will need to wait until he has thumbs again. He keeps his rune nearby to monitor any progress on the causes behind the transformation, but isn't about to just leave the homestead without notifying anyone.
Engrossed as he is, he still notices when someone - Connor, most likely - starts to move around the manor. He places a claw against the page to mark his place, and looks up as the other Assassin comes into view in the hallway. ]
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They did this to you, as well? [The jury is still out on who "they" are -- other dragons, more mischievous fairies, or something else entirely. Whoever's responsible, Connor is starting to get tired of this.] Why did you not tell me as soon as you transformed?
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Unless you found a cure in the time since we last spoke, in which case my apologies.
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[He'd still want to know, because he worries. Not that he'd tell Altaïr after being on the receiving end of dat sass.]
Are you just going to sit and read and expect me to find one for you, then? [He casts an eye over the shredded bed and hopes Altaïr won't damage that book. If Achilles were here he'd be throwing fits about dragons that need to get off his lawn and stop ruining his property.]
no subject
[ He follows the look towards the bed. In retrospect he should have slept on something less expensive until the danger of spontaneously becoming a lizard had passed. At least he sounds mildly ashamed; he fully intends to either repair or replace the bedclothes as an act of good faith. ] As you can see.
no subject
This is not the first time such an incident has occured, but we were able to find the one responsible within a week. If we are able to do the same this time, you and Desmond will not be trapped as you are for long.
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no subject
[Well, he's not exactly going to be offering treerunning lessons to a dragon.]
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Dragons are predators; I'll surely be of use in the hunt. [ his feathers all but puff up. ] I may still watch you, even if I cannot move like myself.