So, I find that pie chart about spending time on the missions, and trying to see Altair's hair. So during the next animus login, I twirl the camera and zoom in on his face.
This story is my conclusion on his hair (with a suggestion from my cousin).
On with the story!
When Malik entered the bureau with his bundle of dried weeds, he was exasperated to see Altair sleeping on the cushions.
"Wake up, Altair. And when you do, don't come crying to me about having gotten lice a second time."
At the word 'lice' Altair shot up, his hand furiously scratching at his head.
"AAAH! No, not again! Malik, help!"
"What do you expect me to do? Wash your hair with only one hand? I can't work through that mess. I only stepped out to buy some weeds with fumes to drive them away and kill the eggs."
"You don't have to! My hair's shorter than yours!"
Malik stared at him.
"Shorter…than…mine?"
"Yes!"
"But…but Altair, you had beautiful locks-"
"They got in my way during missions, they had to go! Where's the oil to wash with?" Altair searched the cupboards in the back room, looking for a vial or a jug with the fat to scrub himself clean with.
"Or sand! Do you have any sand, or a rag, or…Malik?"
"Anything that gets in your way of completing the mission, you have no use for?" Malik whispered. "I see."
Altair stared at him.
"Malik, it's just hair. Besides, you might need to go to the barber soon yourself."
"Are you saying I look untidy?"
"No, just pointing out you can't cut your hair yourself." Open mouth, insert boot and foot.
Malik's eyes narrowed.
Altair backed up swiftly- right against the counter.
"I mean, I don't see any mirrors in here, much less two so you can see all the angles, or any polished brass, and I doubt you let the novices trim your hair with shears, so…I figured a map maker would have enough coin to get his hair cut for him." He finished lamely.
Malik was near vibrating in front of him. Altair braced himself for impact, before Malik released his breath, and sucked in another one.
"Get out."
Altair tensed, his eyes flicking between the distance Malik was from the door.
"I mean, I'm not washing you in here. You shake like a dog when you get wet. I'm not damaging my maps for your phobia of itches. Just let me burn this, and then I'll be right out. And don't forget to strip."
Altair's mind was pulled from the dung heap when Malik set to, dumping a jar of water on him and besieging him with a rag, scrubbing him from the shoulders up.
Altair was sure he was red before Malik was finished. Another basin of water splashed him, and then Malik rubbed a foul smelling ointment on him.
"You won't be doing any assassination missions smelling like this, so go on and make yourself scarce. Go save some citizens or something. This isn't Paradise." Malik groused at him.
Altair eased himself from his kneeling position to re-cloth himself from the waist up.
"Many thanks, Malik."
"Grow your hair out, Novice." Malik snapped back.
~fin
It was the lice, or that with the loss of rank, Altair's hair was shaved off as well. Not so much Samson and losing his strength, but more of like how Padawans in Star Wars didn't have anything except for the hair braid to mark themselves as trainees. I went with the lice one. It was more fun. ^.^