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asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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Part 1
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Part 4
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Discussion
When the truth comes out
(Anonymous) 2013-01-27 06:46 am (UTC)(link)So, Daniel finds out about Subject 4, somehow. Maybe he's going through old Animus files or trying to research on Subject 17 (who he is trying to catch, after all). And he finds out exactly what was done to him, and how he's been a pawn his whole life.
...He doesn't take it well. Show me his reactions to this news. I just want to see Daniel completely lose it at this revelation.
and if you could work Daniel/Hannah or Daniel/Desmond in there, that'd be pretty swell...
Re: When the truth comes out
(Anonymous) 2013-01-27 08:49 am (UTC)(link)Daniel/Desmond: Free Falling (1/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-02-02 07:54 am (UTC)(link)Desmond turns another corner. There’s the sound of gunshots behind him, fifteen, twenty steps, he guesses. A bullet is stuck in right side. The white of his hoodie is stained with red spreading out. It hurts like hell.
The hallway seems endless. To his right are ambient pictures. Beautiful sunset. Pastel coloured beach. Not a single cubicle door Desmond could duck into when the Abstergo men turn the corner and have a straight firing line.
To his left the wall is glass windows. Chicago lies under him, way, way under him. It’s a street, too. Headlights blazing in the darkness. If he jumps, all he’d accomplish is end up a smear on the ground, the power source shattered along with every single one of his bones.
There’s a door at the end of the hallway. He could just barely make it.
“Just fucking give up already, Miles, you have nowhere to run!”
If this was all regular Templars, he might turn around. He might pull his hidden blade and close the distance and their guns would be useless when he’s on them. But it’s not. There’s Daniel Cross leading the charge, and yeah, Desmond got him once and managed to beat him up in Brazil, but Cross was careless then and that’s not going to save Desmond’s hide a third time
Desmond doesn’t know if he’s still under no-kill orders. He does know that either way, Cross will make good on his warning and fuck him up good. And this is before whatever Abstergo has planned for him. He doesn’t want to find out.
Something zips by his leg and embeds itself into the wall Desmond is rushing towards. Without second thought, he leaps, all instinct and adrenaline, his shoulder crashing into the door and forcing it open. He rolls to the side and a barrage of bullets perforates the ground where he used to be. Desmond looks up, struggling to push himself up to his knees. His whole right side is on fire.
He’s in a windowless storeroom. There’s nothing but a few empty cardboard boxes.
Desmond thinks he might have to throw up.
Cross makes it through the door first and when he raises his arm, the Abstergo operatives stop firing. Desmond flexes his fist, hidden blade ready to jump like a snake’s tongue, but six guns are pointed at his head. His heart beats like a steel drum.
“Seriously, Miles. You and your butter knife.” Cross is tall and broad under his old leather jacket and baggy trousers and has a voice like a gravel pit. Desmond stares at him. He’s never seen eyes that look so bright, like shards of ice. There’s something in the way he moves that reminds him of a starved wolf pacing behind bars, something that could launch at any second if freed. He’s sneering, but his expression slips a fraction as Desmond looks at him straight. Maybe he’s imagining it. Desmond finds himself hoping that Cross succumbs to the Bleeding Effect. It should be worse for him, right?
But Cross is very clear when he says “I’ll show you how useful guns are” and he turns around and one, two, three, the Templars go down, smoking holes in their forehead.
Operative four and five have just a half a second more to react. It doesn’t get them far. Daniel elbows one in the face, breaking his nose, then steps on his neck and his gun is – Desmond’s stomach lurches – in the last man’s mouth an instant later. The firing sound is muffled.
Cross wipes the gun, covered in blood and spit, on his trouser. He reaches down to a dead Templar, grabs his pistol and offers it to Desmond, grip first.
“Get up. We have a long way ahead of us.”
-
Re: Daniel/Desmond: Free Falling (1/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-02-02 03:18 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Daniel/Desmond: Free Falling (1/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-02-05 06:33 am (UTC)(link)Daniel/Desmond: Free Falling (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-02-10 01:38 pm (UTC)(link)-
Access granted.
Daniel blinked at the screen and almost spilled the coke he was drinking over his hoodie. That was the – fuck, who knew? Three thousandth name on this godforsaken list, but apparently he had finally hacked the Abstergo system. ‘Hacked’ in the broadest sense of the word, of course. He couldn’t search his ancestors for information on that, what with computers still being room-sized monstrosities when Daniel had been born. Besides, it was not like these ghosts in his head had ever showed him what he needed to see without enough drugs to knock out a horse.
In truth, Daniel had just stolen a printout of set-to-purge account data from a tech guy’s desk and tried out every single one, all belonging to dead and removed employees, until he found one that hadn’t been deleted yet. Dear Delphine Briant. She was probably dead in a ditch somewhere.
Abstergo wanted him to do a good job. Well, if they couldn’t find Desmond Miles, he’d make sure he would. Because that kid had tricked him in Manhatten and knocked him clean out in Brazil and Daniel was about done playing grabass with him. It was personal now.
Daniel clicked through the folders that his new authorization enabled him to open. Much of it was useless, internal organisation stuff. While he might be too impatient to wait for Vidic’s as usual opaque schemes to come to fruition and tell him where to meet Desmond next, he did trust that he knew all he needed to know on the management side of things.
Somewhere deep in a directory, there was an unmarked map. He clicked that, too.
17 subfolders were displayed before him, labelled with numbers.
He chose Subject 17 because that was what he’d come for, pulling up the data. Pictures of Desmond emerged. He was in a dress shirt and tie combination, black jeans, black shoes, warming his hands on a plastic cup as he stood outside the staff kitchen door of some club or restaurant. Used to be a bartender, Daniel remembered from an earlier briefing. Another one in which he sat in the bus, hoodie drawn in his face. The next showed a picture by the security camera in the Italian Abstergo facility, Desmond on his side, fast asleep.
Daniel stared at the picture. If he was completely honest, he could admit he had a sort of grudging respect for this guy. He was... Daniel checked the birthdate. 13 March 1987. Yeah, lots younger than him, but you wouldn’t know from the way he fought. It was difficult to expect he was any good at it at all, though. That was how Desmond had managed to trump him that first time. He had the most peaceful brown eyes and a face that seemed to default to an open, searching look.
However, when he lifted his fists and unsheathed his blade, it was like a switch had been flicked. His movements were controlled, precise, concentrated, his gaze focused. Of course, those weren’t his own skills, this was what the Assassins had carved into their little puppet’s brain via the Animus. In Daniel’s eyes, though, that made it more of an achievement. He’d heard other Templar operatives talking, men who knew half-truths and rumours, joking how they sure wished they could exchange years of training for a few weeks of dozing in a chair.
These men knew shit. Daniel knew. He knew what it was like when half a dozen people were trying to superimpose their own reflexes, their own weaknesses, their strengths, their habits onto you when you were fighting. He knew what it was like to feel their rage and their sadness and when they pulled you into their maelstrom of despair with not even a reason to ground yourself with. Desmond brought all that together into something efficient and Daniel knew, he could feel it, every day, that it would have been so much easier to just give in to that chaos that bubbled right under your skin. How could he not admire it?
Daniel closed the images. To his frustration, there was nothing useful to his purpose in the folder, all just old data up to Desmond’s escape. However, just when he was about to shut down the machine, he found his curiosity grow. Subject 16. He’d heard about him. An assassin plant. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to see how the Animus had worked on these others...
Ballpoint pen. What a way to go.
An hour later, Daniel had worked his way through the reports of Subjects 16 to 5. The further down he went, the more crude the methods described were. But no matter how far the Animus advanced, no matter if the subject was willing or unwilling, Assassin, Templar or civilian, the final result was always the same.
So the first thing that drew his attention on Subject 4’s file was that there was no death date.
Then he looked at the picture. A young boy with blond hair, face round, looking to the left upper corner, as if he wasn’t even aware he was being photographed. A hand rested heavy on his shoulder. His eyes were bright blue like shards of ice.
Daniel didn’t remember much from before his twelfth birthday. But after a second, he recognised his own face.
Daniel checked the birth date, too. He found out that apparently he was not ‘about fourty’. He was exactly four days and thirteen years Desmond Miles’ senior.
His hand was surprisingly calm as he scrolled downwards.
Daniel/Desmond: Free Falling (3/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-02-10 01:54 pm (UTC)(link)Date of liberation by Team Beta.7a: 15 February 1984
Mission Report:
Elimination went successful despite minor hiccups. Male (46) and Female (48) were taken out with gunshots while asleep in their bed, but we were not previously informed about presence of Male (16). Male (16) was woken by the noise and took Target S4 from his room. They were out through the backdoor when our team caught up. Elimination was then eased by Male (16) positioning himself between S4 and the team as he urged S4 to flee, giving us a free shot. S4 attempted to return to Corpse C and was hit with a tranquiliser dart and subsequently collected. No immediate police involvement despite noise levels (secluded place). Pik 4 and Karo 9 staid behind to prepare robbery scene.
Total collateral damage:
Male (46)
Female (48)
Male (16)
Note Yamaguchi: I have no idea where the communication breakdown was re: Male (16), we’re going over that in the meeting. Props to the team for reacting quickly. No further relatives have been uncovered by LDaA. There should be no trouble keeping S4.
Daniel closed his eyes and prayed, begged, pleaded his brain to give him an image – an image of Male (16). Corpse C. The boy who’d tried to save his life.
There was nothing. Of course.
Years and years of all this goddamn Russian garbage, but not a single solitary trace of his big brother. (Cousin? Late-comer baby uncle? There had been a family, he’d been part of a family, he would have known these things.)
He scrolled past large columns of numbers he couldn’t make sense of, halting at passages of text.
S4 has been kept sedated. His vitals are stable and he is taking to the Animus sessions with rapidity. Trauma of insertion and various operations might cause long-term memory loss and instability between core memory lines. However, since S4’s body withstands the chemical rush – unlike S2 –, no further adjustments will be necessary.
Note Vidic: This is astonishing. S2 was a grown man and couldn’t deal with the trauma. S3’s memory became a completely inaccessible jumble. S4’s potential at this point seems almost unlimited.
Daniel remembered just a year or two ago, Vidic pulling him into his arms in front of a whole room full of bigshot Templars, telling him he was proud of him.
The last note on the page was supplied by the lead scientist himself.
Note Vidic: It was fortunate S4’s programming extended so far. I had not quite hoped for it. To have him back among us with his information and skill – he is a great asset. I’m sure after the disappointment that was S12 we can all use these news.
Something was scrawling and scratching the inner side of his skull like spider's legs as he went back up to look at the description of his – liberation. Nikolai with Innokenti in his arms, his wife and daughter lost in the night, his heart beating against his ribs like it wanted to break them and Anna and Nadya were gone, what would he-
But Daniel pushed him out, out, out, fuck off, go, because this was his life, it was his own life he was looking at, not Nikolai’s, for once not Nikolai or Innokenti or any of the other people who tried to upstage him in his own head, they didn’t matter now.
He was Subject 4.
When Daniel left the room, the screen had been smashed with the bottle of coke and the computer casing laid broken on the ground, wiring spilling out like guts. The table was toppled. No one would wonder. No one would dare complain. They all knew poor Daniel was a bit touched in the head.
All his years – all of them he could fucking remember, at least, so roughly three quarters – Daniel had wondered what it might be to have that. A family. He thought he had found it in the Templars. Yes, they had used him and of course he had to work for their approval, the care they gave was hardly unconditional. However, it was better than most he could have hoped for, being a man who had already fulfilled his alloted purpose in life and was left stranded with the Mentor’s corpse in his lap after that.
Daniel stormed down the hallway, cursing in Russian. He wanted to kill Vidic, right then, right now. All that blood he’d spilled in the name of the Templars, he would add to this flood. It would hardly matter at all. If he’d had a soul at some point, the Animus ate it long ago and defragmented it into bits.
But that would be much too easy now... No. No. Killing Vidic was like removing one leg from a centipede. No. He took a deep breath and another one. No, no. Niet. He had to think. Templars cared nothing about individual lives. The goals where what mattered. He’d have to fuck with their precious plans to get at them. Then, he’d always have time to slit Vidic’s throat.
Daniel stood and took a deep breath.
If he wanted to cause mayhem, he needed the help of the Templars’ enemies. If he wanted to cause panic, he needed what was most precious to Vidic right now. This all came down to him getting his hands on one thing: Subject 17. Until he got that chance, he’d have to pretend he didn’t want to crush every skull sitting atop a shirt that was adorned with the Abstergo pyramid.
It would be risky. He might end up dead. For once, though, Daniel realised, he was wandering a path not surrounded by the invisible walls erected by the Animus in his child mind. The satisfaction was enough to still his hand – for now.
-
Re: Daniel/Desmond: Free Falling (3/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-02-10 04:22 pm (UTC)(link)I cannot wait to see what happens next, because Daniel...oh, Daniel...
Re: Daniel/Desmond: Free Falling (3/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-12-15 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)