Malik Al-Sayf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
disarmedbyenvy) wrote2013-12-21 06:26 pm
disarmedbyenvy) wrote2013-12-21 06:26 pm
DH App
Name: Silk
Personal Journal:silkweaver
Contact: AIM: mostlineface
email: silkenfeather@gmail.com
Other Characters Played: none
Character: Malik Al-Sayf
Series: Assassin’s Creed
Age: 26
History: What I would have done is follow the Creed.
Canon Point: The end of Assassin’s Creed I (1191)
Personality: "Nothing is true. Everything is permitted." The Assassin's Creed is not what it seems to be, and Malik would be the first to remind anyone of that. He would bring up the three tenets; "Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent. Hide in plain sight. Never compromise the Brotherhood.” These are the words that temper the Assassin's order from total anarchy, and the words by which Malik lives his life. He understands better than most that even assassins (especially assassins) must live by rules and be bound to a higher cause, and he is quick to remind his brothers of that fact, when they seem to be led astray. This devotion has both helped and hurt Malik- it allowed him to rise through the ranks of the order, both as an Assassin and as a scholar, but Malik has been accused, rightly, of wielding the Creed as a shield, when presented with a potential dark truth about their order, and the Mentor of the Levantine Assassins.
Even relying on the Creed as strongly as he does, however, Malik is not blinded by it. He prides himself on being perceptive, and while he may be reluctant to believe things he hears at first, he does not allow the Creed to keep him from seeing reason when the evidence is laid out before him. We see this several times in Assassin's Creed. For one, Malik does not simply dismiss Altair's idea that something is wrong with the targets the man had been assigned to kill, though he is troubled by it, and he eventually seeks out evidence on his own. In addition, he acknowledges Altair's growth from a man destroyed by pride to someone to be admired, even though he has ample reason to continue to hate Altair without reservation.
That's not to say that Malik is a kind and forgiving man. In truth, he holds onto anger. He has a sharp temper when he feels that he has been wronged, and he doesn't hesitate to lash out with words at every opportunity he gets. He has no qualms telling a person they are wrong in as many words, and even among those he is fond of, he is quick with barbed comments, as we see with one particular exchange with Altair; "I've been a fool, Malik." "Normally I would not protest, but what is this?" These kinds of barbed comments did not emerge when he lost his arm, and his brother, though it did bring them down particularly hard on Altair. However, he was still sharp-tongued and quick to lecture Altair on his failings even before, when he was below the other man in rank.
It would have been easy for Malik to lose himself in hating Altair, but he didn't. Instead, he saw and acknowledged the growth in Altair after his demotion to novice, and, when Altair finally admitted to his wrongdoings and apologized, Malik called him a changed man, and a brother. Not only that, but he admitted to failings of his own. His own envy had affected his actions, and meant he was not blameless in the events of Solomon's Temple. Both he and Altair had learned since that time. The change is most poignant in his responses to Altair's greeting of "safety and peace," which went from "your presence here deprives me of both" to "your presence here will deliver us both."
Malik has no trouble expressing himself, not only through words but also in body language. In fact, even if he were one to try hiding what he was thinking, his movements would likely give him away. He is constantly found pacing back and forth, and no conversation with him goes without constant gestures, whether he has one arm or two.
Skills and Abilities:
An assassin from a young age, Malik has been trained like any Assassin would. He knows how to fight with a variety of weapons, including a sword, dagger, throwing knives, and a hidden blade. He was trained to do freerunning, meaning he knows plenty about climbing buildings and leaping off them again without breaking every bone in his body. He also knows how to blend into crowds to avoid detection and find information.
Malik's skills don't only lie in finding ways to kill people, though. He's got skill as a cartographer, and significantly for his time, he's literate, able to read both Arabic and French, if his ability to understand what he found written in Robert de Sable's private journal is correct. He also has a certain amount of practice in acting as a leader, as his position on Jerusalem meant he was coordinating the assassins in the city.
In the time since he lost his left arm, Malik has grown used to doing things with one hand, but there are some things that he will never be able to do with just practice. He can't use a hidden blade, for one. For another, his climbing abilities are severely limited. There are also plenty of everyday tasks that have become a lot more difficult, or nearly impossible for him to accomplish.
First Person Sample: Here!
Third Person Sample: It was late in the afternoon by the time Malik arrived at the gates of Jerusalem, coated in the dust of the road and weary from a day of riding. He had been told when he set out from Masyaf that he should go slowly, rather than strain his injuries. Remembering the excruciating trip from Solomon's temple back to the Assassin's stronghold, Malik had promised them that he wouldn't rush the journey, but he'd promised himself that he would make it in the same amount of time as he usually did. Now, sitting astride his horse in front of Jerusalem, he was sore and his arm throbbed, but he could not suppress the momentary feeling of satisfaction. Perhaps he was crippled now, but he was not incompetent.
Finding a place for his horse was a relatively simple matter, and with his black robe bundled up and hidden away on his person, trailing in amongst a group of scholars took little work. It was only once he was in the city that he found himself paused, momentarily at a loss. Not because he did not know where the Bureau was, for he had been in Jerusalem for missions before, but rather, because he was struck suddenly with the revelation of what exactly he was doing.
Malik found himself sinking into a seat on a nearby bench. A Dai of Jerusalem. What had his life come to, that he was stuck behind a desk already? He was not meant to be a Rafiq. Bureau leaders were old men and scholars, those who could not fight, not someone like him, still in the height of their skills. Able-bodied, Malik thought to himself with a derisive scoff. At last he had surpassed Altaïr, and all it cost him was his rank, his arm and his brother. He had not seen Altaïr's demotion and punishment at Al Mualim's hands, but at that time, consumed by pain in a limb he no longer had, Malik had only burned with the thought that once more, the Mentor's favorite had gotten off lightly.
Now, he shoved himself to his feet abruptly. He would waste no more thoughts on Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad. He had a duty to his Order, and he would not shirk it. With that determined thought in mind, he pulled out the black robe and shrugged it on. The dark fabric sat heavily on his shoulder, but he would simply have to get used to it. Now wearing the symbol of his rank, he set out toward the Bureau with long ground-eating strides. He remembered a ladder along the side of one of the buildings close to the Bureau entrance. Sure enough, it was still there, and within moments, Malik was dropping through into the enclosed courtyard below, met by the surprised stares of three assassins who had been standing below.
"Dai Malik?" one asked hesitantly. "We did not expect you for several days. Had we known, we would have met you by the gates..."
Malik gave the speaker the most unimpressed look he could muster. "So you could watch me limp my way here and warn me against every leap as though I were a novice? As you can see, that is not necessary. But since you are here, you can make yourselves useful and tell me of the city." He took a moment of grim pleasure in the way they gaped for a moment, before stumbling to speak. A position for old men and scholars indeed- but he would teach every assassin in Jerusalem otherwise, before long.
Personal Journal:
silkweaver Contact: AIM: mostlineface
email: silkenfeather@gmail.com
Other Characters Played: none
Character: Malik Al-Sayf
Series: Assassin’s Creed
Age: 26
History: What I would have done is follow the Creed.
Canon Point: The end of Assassin’s Creed I (1191)
Personality: "Nothing is true. Everything is permitted." The Assassin's Creed is not what it seems to be, and Malik would be the first to remind anyone of that. He would bring up the three tenets; "Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent. Hide in plain sight. Never compromise the Brotherhood.” These are the words that temper the Assassin's order from total anarchy, and the words by which Malik lives his life. He understands better than most that even assassins (especially assassins) must live by rules and be bound to a higher cause, and he is quick to remind his brothers of that fact, when they seem to be led astray. This devotion has both helped and hurt Malik- it allowed him to rise through the ranks of the order, both as an Assassin and as a scholar, but Malik has been accused, rightly, of wielding the Creed as a shield, when presented with a potential dark truth about their order, and the Mentor of the Levantine Assassins.
Even relying on the Creed as strongly as he does, however, Malik is not blinded by it. He prides himself on being perceptive, and while he may be reluctant to believe things he hears at first, he does not allow the Creed to keep him from seeing reason when the evidence is laid out before him. We see this several times in Assassin's Creed. For one, Malik does not simply dismiss Altair's idea that something is wrong with the targets the man had been assigned to kill, though he is troubled by it, and he eventually seeks out evidence on his own. In addition, he acknowledges Altair's growth from a man destroyed by pride to someone to be admired, even though he has ample reason to continue to hate Altair without reservation.
That's not to say that Malik is a kind and forgiving man. In truth, he holds onto anger. He has a sharp temper when he feels that he has been wronged, and he doesn't hesitate to lash out with words at every opportunity he gets. He has no qualms telling a person they are wrong in as many words, and even among those he is fond of, he is quick with barbed comments, as we see with one particular exchange with Altair; "I've been a fool, Malik." "Normally I would not protest, but what is this?" These kinds of barbed comments did not emerge when he lost his arm, and his brother, though it did bring them down particularly hard on Altair. However, he was still sharp-tongued and quick to lecture Altair on his failings even before, when he was below the other man in rank.
It would have been easy for Malik to lose himself in hating Altair, but he didn't. Instead, he saw and acknowledged the growth in Altair after his demotion to novice, and, when Altair finally admitted to his wrongdoings and apologized, Malik called him a changed man, and a brother. Not only that, but he admitted to failings of his own. His own envy had affected his actions, and meant he was not blameless in the events of Solomon's Temple. Both he and Altair had learned since that time. The change is most poignant in his responses to Altair's greeting of "safety and peace," which went from "your presence here deprives me of both" to "your presence here will deliver us both."
Malik has no trouble expressing himself, not only through words but also in body language. In fact, even if he were one to try hiding what he was thinking, his movements would likely give him away. He is constantly found pacing back and forth, and no conversation with him goes without constant gestures, whether he has one arm or two.
Skills and Abilities:
An assassin from a young age, Malik has been trained like any Assassin would. He knows how to fight with a variety of weapons, including a sword, dagger, throwing knives, and a hidden blade. He was trained to do freerunning, meaning he knows plenty about climbing buildings and leaping off them again without breaking every bone in his body. He also knows how to blend into crowds to avoid detection and find information.
Malik's skills don't only lie in finding ways to kill people, though. He's got skill as a cartographer, and significantly for his time, he's literate, able to read both Arabic and French, if his ability to understand what he found written in Robert de Sable's private journal is correct. He also has a certain amount of practice in acting as a leader, as his position on Jerusalem meant he was coordinating the assassins in the city.
In the time since he lost his left arm, Malik has grown used to doing things with one hand, but there are some things that he will never be able to do with just practice. He can't use a hidden blade, for one. For another, his climbing abilities are severely limited. There are also plenty of everyday tasks that have become a lot more difficult, or nearly impossible for him to accomplish.
First Person Sample: Here!
Third Person Sample: It was late in the afternoon by the time Malik arrived at the gates of Jerusalem, coated in the dust of the road and weary from a day of riding. He had been told when he set out from Masyaf that he should go slowly, rather than strain his injuries. Remembering the excruciating trip from Solomon's temple back to the Assassin's stronghold, Malik had promised them that he wouldn't rush the journey, but he'd promised himself that he would make it in the same amount of time as he usually did. Now, sitting astride his horse in front of Jerusalem, he was sore and his arm throbbed, but he could not suppress the momentary feeling of satisfaction. Perhaps he was crippled now, but he was not incompetent.
Finding a place for his horse was a relatively simple matter, and with his black robe bundled up and hidden away on his person, trailing in amongst a group of scholars took little work. It was only once he was in the city that he found himself paused, momentarily at a loss. Not because he did not know where the Bureau was, for he had been in Jerusalem for missions before, but rather, because he was struck suddenly with the revelation of what exactly he was doing.
Malik found himself sinking into a seat on a nearby bench. A Dai of Jerusalem. What had his life come to, that he was stuck behind a desk already? He was not meant to be a Rafiq. Bureau leaders were old men and scholars, those who could not fight, not someone like him, still in the height of their skills. Able-bodied, Malik thought to himself with a derisive scoff. At last he had surpassed Altaïr, and all it cost him was his rank, his arm and his brother. He had not seen Altaïr's demotion and punishment at Al Mualim's hands, but at that time, consumed by pain in a limb he no longer had, Malik had only burned with the thought that once more, the Mentor's favorite had gotten off lightly.
Now, he shoved himself to his feet abruptly. He would waste no more thoughts on Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad. He had a duty to his Order, and he would not shirk it. With that determined thought in mind, he pulled out the black robe and shrugged it on. The dark fabric sat heavily on his shoulder, but he would simply have to get used to it. Now wearing the symbol of his rank, he set out toward the Bureau with long ground-eating strides. He remembered a ladder along the side of one of the buildings close to the Bureau entrance. Sure enough, it was still there, and within moments, Malik was dropping through into the enclosed courtyard below, met by the surprised stares of three assassins who had been standing below.
"Dai Malik?" one asked hesitantly. "We did not expect you for several days. Had we known, we would have met you by the gates..."
Malik gave the speaker the most unimpressed look he could muster. "So you could watch me limp my way here and warn me against every leap as though I were a novice? As you can see, that is not necessary. But since you are here, you can make yourselves useful and tell me of the city." He took a moment of grim pleasure in the way they gaped for a moment, before stumbling to speak. A position for old men and scholars indeed- but he would teach every assassin in Jerusalem otherwise, before long.