deercountry | [open] Socially acceptable behavior

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cw: the Wait For Me prompt: loneliness, depression elements, psychological horror, trapped/immobilized

Altaïr feels as if someone or something should have happened. An agreed-upon meeting falling through, an unease that something is misaligned from where it should be. Though Gaze always makes him feel as if he's being watched, he's never felt more alone. He is used to being alone, but there is a difference between seeking out solitude and having it rudely thrust upon him.

He tries to shake it off by taking a shortcut over the roofs. Up here, mostly unseen, he can use his ~~parkour~~ art of movement to distract himself... Then his body stops working mid-jump, face frozen in consternation, limbs at angles optimal only in this moment and not the next. A tall statue, unnaturally hardened, plummets in an arc towards the ground in a flurry of white robes. Absurdly, he thinks of poison.

He tries to reach for a flashy Paleblood illusion to warn anyone below. What happens instead is the telepathic broadcast of his thoughts in the (unintended, unalterable) tone of a wail:

What sorcery is this?!

Maria isn't particularly bothered when she doesn't see or hear from Altaïr for a few hours. They're friends, a now well-practiced team with a feel for one another's routines, but that doesn't mean they must be attached at the hip. Sometimes he'll spend hours buried in books and she'll spend hours fighting beasts and presumably they both enjoy their solo time.

She is starting to wonder what he's up to, though. It's out of curiosity and not alarm, but still. It doesn't occur to her to use her Omni to contact him and inquire about exactly that; despite her homecoming from the other Trench in the fall, she still hasn't truly internalized the device's use for time-sensitive communication. It also doesn't occur to her to look up as she walks through the streets of Gaze, unknowingly tracing his path.

As it turns out, she doesn't need to. There's a flash of movement from above and what sounds (?) like a very familiar cry from a very familiar voice (?), and then a statue crashes to the ground, nearly on top of her. Maria jumps back with a cry (it is NOT a shriek, no one is allowed to say it was a shriek), gives herself a quick check to make sure nothing's been crushed and she somehow didn't notice, and then just stares.

Sometimes an intense investigation (or fight) means lack of communication, even with Omens, and Altaïr does spend a lot of time alone by choice. There is only so much that can happen when only some city blocks separate them, or so he thinks.

It is definitely not a shriek, and Altaïr would never call the noise Maria made that. It is a cry of warning to anyone else who might be around, a good and responsible thing for any warrior or soldier to do. Definitely.

Altaïr is completely still, limbs frozen at angles as only the most impossibly lithe statues could capture, a white-robed Icarus spared a watery death by his affliction's onset over land. He is also completely unharmed. There are little cracks in the pavement from the impact, but Altaïr received not a scratch.

What is happening?! he continues to "wail." I cannot move at all! If I had hit Maria... His telepathic struggling goes silent as he tries not to contemplate this too closely.

A great many thoughts flash through Maria's mind, one after the other. Where did this statue fall from? Why was it up above to begin with? Is the start of another strange event in Trench?

And then she "hears" and recognizes the voice crying out it drives most of the questions away temporarily, even if the actual words don't make much sense to her. She whips her head around, looking for Altaïr — whatever's the cause of this, they'll certainly do a better job of sorting it out together. Except she can't see him anywhere, even though he'd certainly sounded close by.

"Altaïr?" she calls out cautiously. "Where are you? I don't see you." This time she does look up, but there's nothing.

This is indeed the start of another strange event in Trench, or at least a few very dangerous incidents. And it will be dangerous indeed if Altaïr gets his hands on a culprit...

It is me; I am the statue!

This time the wailing tone of his voice is not too far from what it would be even without this magical influence. He cannot see very well, unable to even move his eyes, but he hears Maria near him. He must keep her here.

Do not go! Turn me so that I may see our surroundings and search for an enemy who might have done this!

He is stuck, limbs half-bent in a ridiculous-looking transitional position in what would have otherwise been a fluid movement.

"Good Lord."

The bafflement is evident in her voice, mixed with dismay and some other undefinable emotion that only comes in the face of ridiculousness. Because this is awful, yes, she recognizes his form and realizes the voice in her head is correct as soon as she hears it again, but really, it is ridiculous.

Instead of turning him, she quickly shuffles forward and around him so she can get a better look.

"I'm not going to swivel you around so you can tell me what you see when I have eyes myself," she says. "You really don't know how this happened? I don't see anyone else around."

No one obviously responsible, that is. There are others on the street who are generally give them a wide berth as well as notable side-eye.

Right, good Lord, though the Lord will not help us now, he grumbles irritably, though it's still broadcast as a wail. But if he has time to complain, surely he can't be in that dire of straits.

I--I have different eyes. I can see things you cannot. Please just do it, I have no time to argue if my attacker is already escaping. I do not know who it was.

He is unhurt, so his other sight should work fine, not that Maria knows that. It's his secret ace in the hole, besides the hidden blade, and Maria already knows the hidden blade from very personal experience. Should I tell her? he wonders to himself. He'll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

Maria will choose to ignore that comment, if only because she can tell that Altaïr is in great distress and she would also likely be extremely cranky if she had suddenly become a statue.

"All right," she says, and lets out a small huff of breath. "I trust you."

It still strikes her as funny sometimes, that she can say that and mean it. How things have changed. Because she trusts Altaïr, she reaches for his now-sculpted shoulders and tries to turn him in place. She's not sure if his conversion to statuary has made him heavier or not; he's tall and well-muscled to start with, so even as flesh and bone he'd be heavy, but it's not as difficult to move a man-sized sculpture around as she would have expected.

"Well? Anything?"

Maria is the only one he can trust. Altaïr would not expect anyone else to follow his instructions so readily. They did risk their lives together. Orders such as Get down or Take my hand need not accompany petty arguments born of pride. This provides some small bit of comfort.

Altaïr is a statue entirely, though not any heavier or lighter than if he were unconscious dead weight, and the whole of him turns as she moves him. It only takes a moment for him to call on his other sight. It's not as though he needs to work to stay still.

...Nothing. No way to confirm if it was even an attack. I still cannot move even a finger.

There is something else too, something he has difficulty putting into words. It's not urgent in his mind, but it nags at him, this uneasy urgency that isn't another sense, nothing useful. It reminds him of that time he was looking for Maria in a burned building. He wants to move and shake this wrongness off with distraction, but he cannot. It only rises like a drowning tide instead of dissipating. It disrupts his thoughts and words enough that he can only muster,

Maria.

"I have my sword and can move just fine, so if someone were to attack I'd take care of it," she says, determination in her eyes and an edge to her tone. This may be somewhat ridiculous, but it's also very serious; somehow turning into a statue is no small inconvenience. Maria can only imagine the horror she'd feel if it were here, frozen and unable to defend herself further or take vengeance on the one who did it to her.

She almost wishes there were an obvious responsible party nearby. At best, she could threaten and beat a cure to Altaïr's affliction out of them; at worst, she could still do that and it wouldn't help. It would make her feel slightly better, though. She feels an instinctive, protective fury at the idea of anyone doing this to him, one she won't question just now.

The cry of her name that she can't 'hear' but still cuts to her core distracts her from thoughts of hypothetical vengeance. She hates that such an inexplicable, awful thing has happened to him, hates that she could do nothing to prevent it.

"Oh, Altaïr." She rests her palm against his stony cheek, wishing she could feel warmth instead. "I'm sorry. But there has to be some way to correct this. Some ritual, or — or something."

Altaïr tries to hide any inadequacies he feels from others as much as possible. He cannot articulate why being immobilized disturbs him so much, nor why Maria's reminder that she will protect him is such a balm.

It shouldn't be this way. He should not need to be protected. He should be able to set his feelings aside and pull his weight. Why does a simple kind word from Maria feel like a lifeline? Why is his name on her tongue like a benevolent spell?

Perhaps it is. He cannot feel her touch, but he knows she's done it when her forearm blocks half his vision. He takes comfort in it.

Like a sponge suddenly swelling with the application of water, Altaïr's body loosens and returns to a more natural jumble of limbs. He doesn't coil up into a crouch, too shocked to process regaining sensation in his limbs. Instead, his hand reaches for Maria's and clutches it.

It comes out of nowhere. One moment her hand is pressed against cool stone, the next there's a strange shiver, as if something firm is dissolving into liquid, and she's touching warm, solid flesh.

A noise of surprise escapes her lips but she doesn't pull away; instinctively she reaches her free arm around him as best she can, as if to support him if he needs that or perhaps just to reassure herself that he's really himself again, whole and alive and not a mockery of art.

"Altaïr." At first all she can do is say his name again, baffled as she is by this sudden of events in a situation that was baffling to begin with. "Are you all right? What happened just now?"

His calloused hand remains where it is. His fingers close tighter around Maria's if possible.

"I--I don't know," he mumbles incoherently. He's usually so clear and direct when he speaks. His own voice sounds foreign to him, and it frustrates him that he can't make it sound the way he wants to. His heart nearly chokes him as it refuses to stop beating frantically. He wants to be outside his body instead of trapped within it, whether he can actually move or not.

"I can move, I just--" He makes a frustrated noise and presses his free hand to the cobblestone as if he needs reminding that the ground exists and gravity pulls him down towards it.

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.. Well, this sure is something that's happening, isn't it.

Granted, the observation isn't nearly as casual in the girl's mind. It's not every day that you're just walking the streets of Trench and find something just plummeting right out of the sky. It's not exactly impossible or totally unheard of in a place like this - but it's still uncommon enough for the girl to let out a shriek of surprise, and even more so when she also suddenly hears a voice in her mind on top of it.

She instinctively quickly moves backwards, trying to put some distance between herself and whatever just came down just in case it's a monster.

But-- a moment passes, and whatever it is that fell doesn't move. It makes the girl shyly stare at it, finally getting a good look, and realising it's not a monster at all.

It's a person. One that actually looks kind of familiar, though it takes her a few moments to realise as much. Isn't this the man she had helped all those months ago, back when he had been blind right after Chizuru herself had been..?

Still startled, the girl carefully calls out with an: "A-Are you alright?!"

The way the man is unmoving - and stuck in a rather odd position - doesn't seem great, after all. And prospects can't look good for anyone after falling that far down, really.

Altaïr is completely frozen, limbs half-bent in a ridiculous-looking transitional position in what would have otherwise been a fluid movement. He is also completely unharmed. There are little cracks in the pavement from the impact of what is effectively a statue hardened to imperviousness, but Altaïr himself received not a scratch.

Of course not, I cannot move! I cannot even look around! Who are you?

Not being able to look around and take stock of his surroundings is the real issue here apparently. He is irritated. He is almost at the point of complaining. But though he feels no pain, his voice is magically trapped in what sounds like the tone of a wail.

It's definitely more than a little disturbing that this person truly doesn't move - nor seems impacted by the fall in the slightest, though that is perhaps the one tiny upside to this entire situation, no matter how unsettling.

But the most unsettling part is definitely that voice in her head. Not just because it's there, but due to the emotion in it. Chizuru is someone emotionally connected enough to other people that it immediately threatens to set her off into a panic as well, so worried about him screaming in her head like that.

At least the girl tries to remain strong. She tries to not let it conquer her, instead moving to try and put herself into his line of sight, even if she isn't sure if he can see her that way.

"I-It's me, Chizuru," she stammers. Her hands are folded together, the look in her eyes - now she's actually within his field of view and therefore visible - very obviously concerned. "I.. um, I helped you before, remember..? When you couldn't see."

Ironically enough, seeing might be the one thing Altaïr can do right now..

"I could try to help you now too, if you'd let me.."

Not that she knows how.

But one thing is always true with Chizuru - she is forever determined to help, no matter the situation or the odds stacked against her.

He is not the best at reassuring another. He answers questions with silence, barks out orders, and otherwise suppresses his own heart. Still, no one could be more disturbed than him. He remembers being immobilized by the power of the Apple. The betrayal he felt is dredged up again by the betrayal of his own body now. Freedom of thought and agency are things he prizes most dearly.

I remember you.

He is grateful for that time she helped him, but he is terrible at expressing it. He is also unable to change the tone of his relatively measured statement from the distress the spell limns it in.

What must I do?

Because surely, there is something he can do other than just lie here helplessly. He can't stand that. He can't stand that someone is seeing him like that.

"I, um.."

.. it's a good question. Chizuru doesn't directly know what to do about this either, after all. She really wishes she could give him some more concrete reassurances here, especially with that tone in her head that only increases the worry in her heart.

She inhales, and then sinks down next to where he's lying on the ground, sitting next to his frozen form on her knees.

"Would it be okay for me to touch you?" There's a pause, and then she quickly adds: "J-Just to examine you!"

Please, Chizuru, like he was about to get the wrong idea about that in a situation like this..

"My father is a doctor, and I've learned a few things from him.." And while this isn't anything she recognizes, she does realise that maybe examining is the only thing she can do to find out what is wrong with him, and what she can do to help with it.

It's perfectly normal for even a layperson to touch him if they found him incapacitated on the street. And she is the daughter of a physician. Altaïr is from a time when children often took up their parent's profession. He expects that she knows a thing or two. He tries to explain his symptoms:

This is not like any disease that I have ever heard of. There was no warning sign. I should have been hurt by my fall, but I do not see blood or feel pain or even spasms. It's almost like a dream--a nightmare. But of course, it's very real. I know when something is an illusion.

It helps that he's also trying to explain to her what's going on with him from his point of view - even though Chizuru would sure appreciate if it wasn't blasted straight into her head with the tone of someone screaming in the throes of a violent death.

But sometimes beggars can't be choosers, and this is one of those moments. It's why the girl frowns, trying to focus on what's in front of her. Her hand moves towards his wrist, her eyes closing as she feels around there for a moment, focusing--

"You do have a pulse."

Granted, one would imagine he does since he's still alive, but.. you never know for sure in this place.

At least that's one good sign.

"But.." Her hand lightly pushes against his arm, but it doesn't budge. Chizuru tries to push a little harder, but still nothing. Sure, it could be her own lack of strength.. Though it's much more likely that-- "It's like your body has sudden grown entirely rigid. Like a statue, almost.."

It would explain why he's stuck in this pose, rather than attempting to move out of it.

"Is projecting your thoughts into my mind all you can do right now..?"

It is good to be forthcoming with a physician. Practicality wins out over his usual reluctance to divulge anything about himself.

I think my words are being twisted into something like a mourning wail... I can see--what little good that does me--and I can hear you speaking. I cannot feel anything but surprisingly you can feel my pulse. I am not moving at all, not even enough to breathe. I have not... shattered anywhere, have I?

He has not, and he doesn't think he has, but he should make sure. He can't bend around or move his eyes to take stock of himself. He is also painfully aware that Chizuru or anyone else could simply help themselves to his possessions, and he would not be able to do anything about it.

"No, it seems that you're unharmed from the fall, at least." It's a tiny bit of light in this situation, because it's just about the only good news Chizuru could give him under the current circumstances. His current state still isn't great, after all, and the fact that she's never seen anything like this before, nor knows how to cure it, certainly doesn't help.

It's why she's still got a thoughtful frown on her face, even as she's done inspecting him and moves to kneel in front of him again, just so he can actually see her.

"Um, did you.. see anything, right before this happened..?"

It's not like she'd like to hear more of that awful voice in her head, but asking him questions to gain more information feels like the one thing she can do right now.

"Or did you do anything out of the ordinary?"

Maybe they can at least nail down the cause then to something in this place. Some creature that might be going around and petrifying people, maybe. (Hey, it's at least better than her stealing his stuff, huh. Which she doesn't seem like she's about to do with the way she sits there so calmly.)

He will take his blessings where he can, and safely tucks away Chizuru's bit of good news as encouragement. He cannot move his eyes, so he simply observes her come into his field of vision again. He does not think she would hurt him or take his things, as he sees her as an ally, but his discomfort remains. He hates being made to be still. He can't even put his finger on why, but it fills him with a directionless anger.

Nothing. No sound either. It came on without warning. I thought it might be an attack at first, but it may be like that time I went blind, where it would have gone away on its own, or indeed the Blood Ministers might...

He trails off pensively, except the tone is only reproduced as like the sound of wind mourning through cracks in a house.

It's truly a mystery. Chizuru can't tell what came over him. If he didn't see anything special, then it probably wasn't some creature causing it.. but on the other hand, she also doesn't believe it to be a blood effect when Chizuru isn't suffering the same condition, despite them sharing a bloodtype.

They have to, after all, for him to have gone blind in the same month as she did, even if it wasn't at the exact same moment.

It makes the girl frown with concern, and some frustration turned inward towards herself. She should be able to fix this somehow, but.. why can't she think of a way..? Is it just that she's too inadequate? (That's often it.)

"I'm.. not sure what's wrong, or how to fix it," she admits. There's some shame in the way she says it, because it feels like she ought to be able to do more, somehow. And yet she's not. "But-- I promise you, as long as you're stuck like this, I won't leave you alone, sir. I'll stick with you here and watch over you until someone might pass who knows more."

Even if that might be.. a long time..

But Chizuru intends on sticking by her words. The girl sounds extremely sincere.

"I understand this might be a really scary situation, but.. you're not alone."

Open

Wait For Me (in Gaze District unless you'd like somewhere different)

in my head this is being filmed like a sitcom

icon of him in water but same vibe

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