asscreedkinkmeme (
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-01-04 10:19 am
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]
We're about to reach the posting limit on pt.1&2, this is for those who wish to continue/write on prompts on both these parts.
Writers! It is your responsibility to link back to the original prompt.
There are no request in this part of the meme.
List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Discussion
Delivery - Part 1 (1/3)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-10 05:38 am (UTC)(link)Original prompt is here: http://forkinsocket.livejournal.com/19704.html?thread=3621880#t3621880
Mafia AU.
Except, it's different; now, in the previous meme, it was based on the Italian branch, with Ezio and Feddy going about, but this time, I want it based on ALL the sects.
Particularly, I want WARFARE. Nikolai pops shit with Cross, Altair is the head honcho of his family, and ...
YOU KNOW.
STUFF.
And Desmond is the unfortunate Domino's pizza guy who comes in at the wrong time and place?
GO WILD.
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=====
Ever since his cousin had (accidentally) gotten him fired from his last job as a bartender, Desmond had been making efforts to avoid the other man. It wasn't that he disliked Ezio -- quite the opposite. Ezio was a fun, intelligent guy, friendly enough when he wasn't set on murdering people -- and those people usually deserved it. It was just that trouble followed the friendly Italian everywhere. Everywhere. He had, after all, managed to get Desmond fired just by being related to him.
So when Desmond, starting on his second week of his new job as a pizza delivery guy, knocked on the door that he knew for a fact did not belong to Ezio, only to have it opened by none other than Ezio himself, he began to seriously consider that maybe the universe had some sort of grudge against him.
"Desmond!" Ezio's exclamation was a happy one, albeit confused. "What are you--" Then he caught sight of the pizza, and he smiled. "Ahh, you've found another employer! I'm glad."
Desmond very seriously considered having an actual conversation with Ezio. It didn't take long for him to decide against it. "That'll be $10.50." He offered the pizza to Ezio, earning himself a confused look from his cousin.
"But I did not order..."
"Sure you did. $10.50." He shoved the pizza forward more insistently. "C'mon, Ezio, I can't afford to get fired again. Whaddaya think is gonna happen when I go back there with a cold pizza and no money"
Relenting, Ezio withdrew his wallet. "My offer from before is still open, you realize."
"Uh-huh. I'll consider it if I ever rethink why I ran away six years ago, alright?"
Ezio looked ready to protest again when someone called from deeper in the house. It was a voice that Desmond both recognized and wasn't eager to hear more of. "Ezio, what is taking so long?"
"Just a minute!" Ezio called over his shoulder, before looking back at Desmond and offering him a 20. "Buona fortuna , Desmond. I should get back to work." Desmond nodded wordlessly and took the twenty from Ezio, eager to be away from the place before the police showed up. He knew from a lot of experience that he wished he didn't have that Ezio was skilled enough to not get caught. Knowing that he wouldn't be called into the station to pick his cousin out of lineup was enough to mollify Desmond somewhat.
"Tell your dad I said hi," Desmond offered, but that was all he said before he took off, eager to be away as soon as possible.
Delivery - Part 1 (2/3)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-10 05:38 am (UTC)(link)Ezio set the pizza Desmond had handed him aside just as Machiavelli peered around the corner and into the foyer. There was a frown on the younger man's face. "Ezio, who was that?"
"Desmond," Ezio replied lightly, not as all surprised when Machiavelli's expression darkened.
"And you just let him leave?"
"Desmond will not tell anyone what he saw."
"Really. Then why was he here?"
Ezio hesitated a moment, trying (and failing) to not grin as he gestured towards the pizza. Outside he heard the tell-tale rumble of Desmond's motorcycle starting up. "Making a delivery. Perhaps he thought it would be funny to see the great Machiavelli eating pizza in the middle of a job."
Machiavelli gave the pizza a somewhat disdainful look before shaking his head. "I see he found another job in the wake of your idiocy at the Carolina."
Ezio's smile vanished. "That was not my fault!" It was something like the twentieth time he'd protested his innocence. "It was one of Altaïr's new recruits that decided to pick a fight!"
But Machiavelli was ignoring him, slipping back into the living room. "Of course." He carefully stepped around the man bleeding out on the expensive Persian rug. "Tell me, why did you think it was a good idea to let Desmond leave after he witnessed us here?"
"Desmond will not turn us in," Ezio insisted. He swept after Machiavelli and stepped towards the living room fireplace. "He is a good man and loyal to his family--"
"Which is why he ran away from his home when he sixteen."
"--even if he'd rather not get involved," Ezio finished stubbornly. He approached the fireplace,e where he'd been working before Desmond had shown up. "You are too paranoid, Machiavelli." Ezio knelt and began pushing at the bricks of the fireplace wall. "He stood up for me even at the risk of being fired after the fight, you know, even when-- aha!" One of the bricks revealed itself to be a false wall, and fell inward when Ezio pressed at it. "I found it!" He reached inside and withdrew a small, heavy metal box, about the size of a hardcover novel, from the tiny storage compartment behind the false brick.
Machiavelli stepped forward, not entirely able to hide his eagerness. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Barbarigo was a paranoid man, but he was also cheap." He tapped a logo on the metal box. "This is a Strauss. Bullet resistant, fire proof, resistant to high-speed impacts -- even one as small as this, plus the miniature panic room to hide it in, must have cost thousands of dollars." Ezio reached back into the fireplace and refitted the false brick. "Will take the ones we found in his office and bedroom, of course, but he would not spend so much money on a decoy." Smiling in satisfaction, Ezio rose and turned to face Machiavelli. He offered the box out to the other man. "Now. Shall we?"
Machiavelli hesitated, but then smiled just faintly and took the box from Ezio. "Very well, then."
Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-10 05:40 am (UTC)(link)The drive from the scene of their latest job to da Vinci's home was supposed to be simple and straightforward.
As Machiavelli had pointed out, they really shouldn't have counted on that. Ezio hadn't, of course, but even he had to admit that encountering a familiar, one-armed man standing in the middle of the road was not something he'd expected. Ezio wasn't sure what Malik wanted with him, but he had a pretty good idea. Carefully he pressed on the brakes, letting the car roll to a stop a good twenty feet away from Malik. He didn't believe the many, many, many varied rumors that Altaïr's right-hand-man was capable of inhuman feats, but he also wasn't going to risk being proven painfully wrong without a good reason for it.
Besides. The two might be from different families and working under different 'organizations', but they had known each other since Ezio was just a child. He had goo reason to worry that Malik would make him regret misbehaving.
"Wait here," Ezio murmured to Machiavelli. Then he threw the car into park, pushed open the driver's side door, and stepped out smiling and striding towards his rival's second-in-command. "Buonasera, Malik!" Malik didn't return the greeting, which Ezio had expected. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"No pleasantries tonight, Ezio." Malik's tone was clipped, business-like. Just faintly strained, Ezio thought. His smile melted away. "I'm here to deliver a message. That's it."
"In the middle of night." Ezio folded his arms and glanced around. "This far out of town."
"Of course." Malik strode towards Ezio. "No one will hear us here." When Ezio opened his mouth to retort, Malik made a short, slashing gesture with his right hand-- his only hand. "We have no time, Ezio. Listen to me." He leaned in close to Ezio and dropped the volume of his voice. "Rodrigo Borgia."
Ezio frowned. He'd heard of the man, heard of his connections, but... "What about him?"
"The list you stole from the man you killed tonight." Malik's expression and tone of voice were both pointedly neutral. Ezio didn't question how he knew what he and Machiavelli had been up to. "It will implicate Rodrigo Borgia." Malik hesitated. "Altaïr believes that the Borgia are part of something far greater than you are anticipating." And then Malik stepped back, leaving Ezio to give him a startled look. Malik had turned to leave by the time Ezio found his voice again.
"Wait!" Ezio took a step forward, reaching out. "Hold on. Why are you telling me this?" Silence. "Malik, why?"
Malik held his silence for several, impossibly long seconds. Ezio thought he wasn't going to say anything at all, but then: "We believe that our families' policy of mutual noninterference cannot continue." He looked over his shoulder at Ezio. "Tell your father of our meeting here. He will understand." And then Malik turned and strode away, waiting for no argument. Ezio offered none, and simply frowned after him.
But Malik abruptly stopped again and turned, his expression one of confusion. "One more thing, Ezio."
"Yes?"
"I saw a motorcyclist pass by here earlier. Did you really have a pizza delivered to you in the middle of a mission?"
To that Ezio could only blink, and then burst out into laughter.
=====
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There we go! I hope you enjoy! ♥
Re: Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-10 09:06 am (UTC)(link)Re: Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-10 06:49 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-10 01:49 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-10 06:50 pm (UTC)(link)Delivery - Part 2 (1/?)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-26 04:57 am (UTC)(link)I'm also thinking I'll update this once every 2 weeks -- maybe one every week if I write fast enough.
==========
"Hellooo!" Desmond called, rapping on the door for the third time in as many minutes. No reply this time, either. He glanced down at his watch and frowned. He didn't really have time to stand here and hope that whoever had ordered this pizza was actually here, but he wasn't about to leave, either. Not for the first time that week he grumbled about his lack of a cellphone, then lifted his hand to try again, pounding on the door this time. "Helloooo--" Then the door abruptly sung open, and Desmond just barely caught himself before he brought his fist down on a blue-eyed, blond-haired man wearing a red beret and a puzzled expression.
Said man did not seem particularly alarmed that a stranger carrying a pizza box had nearly hit him. "Ah-- yes?"
Desmond blinked, but lowered his hand. At least the guy wasn't mad. He presented the box. "Pizza."
But the man shook his head, sand-colored hair swaying. "I did not order anything."
Great. "Mrs... Uh." Desmond dug a hand into his pocket, silently cursing whoever it was that had written down the apartment number. "Gallo doesn't live here?"
"No, but--" The man brightened. "I can show you where she lives." He stepped out into the hallway, not even waiting for Desmond to confirm that he needed help. "This happens quite often," he babbled, turning to lock his apartment door behind him. "I should have realized right away--" He stopped, suddenly, blinking as he turned from his door. Then he smiled. "Ah, Ezio!"
Desmond froze. This couldn't... no. Not again. Desmond slowly started to turn around. Maybe it was a different Ezio...?
But no, it was the exact same one that had paid for a pizza he hadn't ordered only hours ago. And Machiavelli was still with him. Damnit!
"Don't you guys sleep?" Desmond quipped dryly. Sure, it was only 11ish, but Desmond felt that he question was a valid one. He knew that Ezio hadn't followed him on purpose, but he was getting annoyed at his apparent inability to live his life in peace. Ezio and Machiavelli exchanged a glance, Ezio looking a little uncertain and Machiavelli looking unimpressed. The two men drew to a stop and remained silent. Desmond had time to notice they were carrying several boxes between the two of them before the silence was suddenly broken.
"You two know each other?" The blond man stepped forward and around Desmond as he spoke, looking inquisitive and uncertain. Mostly inquisitive, though.
"Yes," Ezio replied, right as Desmond said, "Not in public." The two exchanged a glance and silence fell again. Machiavelli wasn't smiling, which wasn't a surprise, but neither was Ezio, something Desmond had learned to be wary of. The blond man whose evening he had interrupted remained quiet and frowning, looking back and forth between Desmond and Ezio.
Re: Delivery - Part 2 (1/?)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-26 04:58 am (UTC)(link)"Hey." Desmond looked at the blond man, who blinked at him. "Just let me know what her apartment number is and I'll get out of here, alright?" Apparently it was the right move, because Desmond noticed (with great relief) both Machiavelli and Ezio relaxing. He didn't think he would have caught it if he didn't know them so well. The blond seemed pleased, too, and he gave Desmond the apartment number in a pleasant tone. Desmond nodded his thanks, but didn't say anything further as he slipped past Ezio and Machiavelli. He didn't want to be anywhere near them any longer if he could help it.
The trip through the hallway, up the stairs, and down a second hallway, and around a corner to the proper apartment (318, not 218) was a blessedly uneventful one. Mrs. Gallo, he was relieved to find out, was a pleasant woman, though she seemed lonely. He got wrapped into talking to her for nearly ten minutes, his wristwatch confirmed, and only got away from her when she suddenly remembered that she'd paid for a pizza and that she should probably get to eating it. By the time he stepped out the buildings' front door, he was ready to call it a night.
Least I got a decent tip, he mused to himself. Even though I'm used to better. Thinking about his old job brought a frown to his face -- one of puzzlement, not of anger. He knew, vaguely, the story behind what had happened the night he got fired. The Syrian La'Ahad faction and the Italian Auditore family were on good terms, and Desmond knew (as most people did not) that Giovanni and Altaïr were related -- a shared great grandfather. Yet the two families were not technically allies. The disagreements between them were peaceful, comparatively, the shifting boundaries of their territory usually coming as the result of civil disagreements.
Which was not to say that every member of each faction was peaceful. That was what had lead to the fight. One of Altaïr's youngest and newest deciding that Giovanni's second son, relaxed and slightly inebriated, was too good an opportunity to pass up. Desmond hadn't really been surprised, even if he was annoyed with himself for not catching it before the fight.
Less annoyed than he was for letting it slip earlier that night that Ezio was his cousin, though. He had thought, being 23 and well out of the influence of his parents, that he was a bit beyond getting bit in the ass for his relation to certain people. He'd gotten a rather unfortunate lesson about that, as well as about the sort of trouble his 'stupid, shithead cousin', as his ex-boss had put it, could get in to. So he'd been fired, apparently for even so much as telling Ezio where he worked. Who cared that the fight hadn't been Ezio's fault, right?
As Desmond stepped out onto the parking lot pavement his thoughts drifted from Ezio and on towards the one that had really been responsible for the fight. He really shouldn't have been so aggressive towards Ezio. It really wasn't his fault he kept running into Desmond, and he didn't deserve to be snapped at.
Desmond resolved to apologize to Ezio next time he saw him, and was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice a blond woman in a white halter top darting across the parking lot. Almost didn't notice a man tearing after her. And, when he finally looking up in time to see the two take cover across from each other and draw weapons, Desmond almost didn't throw himself to the ground in time to avoid getting riddled with bullets from the pursuer's gun.
He no longer had any doubts. The universe definitely held a grudge against him.
Delivery - Part 2 (3/?)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-26 04:59 am (UTC)(link)Malik was wondering if his evening could get any worse. He had been hoping (vainly, he knew) that being called upon to chase down Ezio and deliver a message to the young Auditore would be his mostly difficult task for the evening. Dealing with Ezio after the disastrous fiasco between the friendly Italian and one of Altaïr's young novices had always been an unpleasant reminder of the tension between their families. Hopefully Altaïr's offer and the plot they had uncovered would prove fortuitous enough to mend relations a little.
But now he was getting a report from an agent stationed at Ezio's destination -- for where else would Ezio go but to the home of his cryptographer friend? -- of a suspicious someone lurking about the premises. And of another, slightly less suspicious someone arriving several minutes after Ezio did. Malik and his contact had been discussing the best course of action (while Malik shifted his own course to drive for the apartment in question, instead of back home) when the sound of gunfire had abruptly sounded through the radio.
And so Malik found himself in a less than favorable situation, forced to abandon his car more than a block away from the apartment and make the rest of the trip on foot. Even a week ago it would have been none of his (professional) concern if Ezio got himself killed in a shootout with someone from a rival gang, but now....
Now crippling one family means we all may topple. It wasn't just the Auditore that would fall if they lost their second oldest son. The entire Italian branch of their Order would slide into ruin, and even if they tried in vain to release the others as they fell, the Syrians, the Russians, and even fragments of the Chinese and Istanbul factions would slide down with them.
Despite their efforts to remain disentangled, the individual branches of the Assassin Order were now too closely tied to one another to survive if another collapsed.
So Malik ran, slunk about, and slipped through shrubbery and gaps in the fences towards the scene of the shootout, determined to arrive in time to save his 'nephew' from whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into.
Upon arriving (jumping from the top of one building to another, naturally, grateful for the service ladder that made swiftly climbing with one arm possible) across the street from the scene of the fight, he was surprised to find that Ezio was only just slipping out of the apartment on the other side of the street, looking tense and alert. Several of the lights had been shot out, but Malik could vaguely make out the form of a young woman kneeling next to a car, and a prone, unmoving figure laying several feet from her. Ezio was moving with the catlike walk of one ready to kill, but he had no weapon drawn and didn't seem to feel threatened by the woman.
Frowning, Malik hunched down on the roof and settled in to wait and listen.
Delivery - Part 2 (4/?)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-26 04:59 am (UTC)(link)Ezio crept towards the apartment building's front door, knife not in hand but ready to be flicked out of his sleeve at a moment's notice. The gunfight outside had been quick, but sounded focused and brutal -- short, pointed bursts of gunfire, the sound of shattering glass, several more shots -- and then nothing. Machiavelli had been tense. Leonardo -- poor Leonardo -- had looked like he was going to suffer from premature greying at any moment. All of them had been silent and unhappy, and neither Machiavelli nor Leonardo had protested when Ezio had told them to stay behind while he went downstairs to investigate.
Eagle Vision fell across his sight as he pushed open the front door to the apartment building, glad to see that all of the residents had stayed in their homes. Aside from a tiny pool of light from the light above the building's main entrance, the area outside the door was drenched in darkness, the nearest two street lamps giving no light -- the shattered glass he had heard. There was only one figure immediately visible within that dark pool -- a woman, her form lit by a bight, white, faintly blue light in his Vision. As the door swung closed behind Ezio the man let his special sense slide away from him, replaced only by the persistent lack of light. Whoever this woman was, she wasn't intending to hurt him.
"Ezio Auditore?"
She also knew more than Ezio would have thought she did.
"Yes?" He was frowning uncertainly, not sure what to expect from the woman -- who he could see now was blond and dressed in a white top. Anyone that showed up at his location looking for him, knowing his name, and being skilled enough to survive a gunfight wasn't someone he wanted to associate with while at a disadvantage.
"My name is Lucy Stillman," the woman continued. Ezio had never heard of her. "I need to speak with you. But not here."
Uh-oh. "I am not going anywhere un--"
"We have to leave now." Lucy pointed insistently, and Ezio followed her gesture towards a dark figure laying on the ground just at the edge of the pool of darkness. "That man is a Syrian. He came here to kill you."
Ezio felt his blood run cold, but a hard look at the prone figure assuaged his fears. There had been only one Syrian he'd come in close contact with that evening, and the figure on the ground wasn't missing his left arm. Which still gave him no reason to trust this woman.
"Listen, I have no--"
But Lucy seemed ready to that. "There was someone else here, too." The interruption was more insistent this time, as if she was determined to prove her trustworthiness as soon as possible. "A man in white--"
But Ezio was already acting, drawing upon his Vision and casting his gaze around. Now that he knew what to look for, a faint glimmer of golden light shined quietly from the bushes to his left. Already certain of who he would find, he none-the-less banished his Vision and peered over the top of the bush curiously.
"Hi," Desmond said flatly, giving Ezio a glare that would have reduced him to a greasy smear on the pavement if it were given physical form.
"Desmond," Ezio replied cautiously, offering his hand to the ex-bartender -- and to, he suspected, the now ex-delivery man. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Desmond replied, his expression shifting from anger into resigned annoyance as he accepted Ezio's hand. "Could be doing better." Desmond brushed off his knees when he was on his feet properly, giving Lucy a wary, wary look. He glanced back to Ezio. "Any chance I'm gonna be allowed to just go home and call it a night?"
Ezio frowned and shook his head. Poor Desmond. "I'm afraid not." He turned his gaze towards Lucy, dropping his hand into his pocket for his cellphone. She couldn't have set up pointing him out to a potential ambush in advance if it was Desmond she was indicating. "We will hear the young lady out. But," he added, before Lucy had a chance to speak again. "We are taking my car."
Delivery - Part 2 (5/5!)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-26 05:02 am (UTC)(link)Malik watched as Ezio spoke to the female newcomer, too far away to hear the conversation on his own -- that was what his agent on top of the roof would do. He kept watching as Ezio retrieved another man, one that Malik had never seen before, from the bushes, watched as he pulled out his cellphone and made a brief call -- probably to that arrogant, shifty-looking friend of his. Niccolo Machiavelli, Malik thought, and his suspicions were confirmed when both the shifty-looking friend and another, far-less shifty-looking man exited the apartment building and huddled around Ezio for a moment.
Then the five of them strode towards the car Malik knew to be Ezio's, stopping only long enough for the man from the bushes to rush over to a motorcycle, look it over, and then heave what Malik was sure was a frustrated sigh at it's state. Whoever he was he didn't seem inclined to stick around, trudging back over to Ezio's car and piling into the back seat with the woman (who Malik now saw was blond) and Machiavelli. Ezio got into the driver's seat and the other man in on the front passenger side.
It wasn't until the car had pulled out of it's parking space and started down the road that Malik's phone buzzed in pocket. He answered it immediately, expecting to hear agent's voice on the other end.
What he wasn't expecting to hear was the agent's slightly panicked tone, or the insistence that Ezio now believed that the Syrians were his enemy. Malik was silent for several long, heavy seconds. Then he swore furiously, instructed his agent to leave, and hung up. Police sirens were already sounding in the distance and he had no time to run down and try to confirm the dead man's identity, but he could at least try to run damage control.
He no longer had any doubts. His night could definitely get a lot worse.
(a/n: enjoy~)
Re: Delivery - Part 2 (5/5!)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-26 05:53 am (UTC)(link)Re: Delivery - Part 2 (5/5!)
(Anonymous) 2011-11-26 05:50 pm (UTC)(link)