asscreedkinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2013-05-13 07:24 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2013-05-13 07:24 pm
Entry tags:
Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 6
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.6
Open
Open
Sky World
≈ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.
≈ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.
≈ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.
≈ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.
≈ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.
≈ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.
≈ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!
List of Kinks
Kink Meme Masterlist
New Kink Meme Masterlist
(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive
#3 (Delicious.com) Archive <-- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion
Against Time | 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-11-16 01:44 am (UTC)(link)---
They weren't idiots, they'd known something was going on.
The way Desmond would sometimes climb to a place none of the rest of them could reach, sit on an outcropping, and stare blankly, for hours, was enough to show something was up. Maybe they weren't quite sure what, if the Bleeding Effect had ramped up or if this was something else, but the way Desmond was indulging his hallucinations now spoke volumes about the situation they were in.
And now Desmond was gone and Juno was throwing a royal hissy fit farther inside the temple. Apparently, she hadn't seen this coming either. She'd come out to yell at them until Rebecca fired a taser at her and screwed up the projection for half an hour.
After that, Juno retreated deeper into the temple and William had them running every kind of diagnostic known to man on the Animus. Even then, Rebecca invented a few of her own.
Shaun, though, was going through the code line by line up until Desmond vanished. It looked like, ever since Desmond's seizure, something odd had been happening every time the Animus loaded a new memory of Connor. He'd seen that code before, he knew it.
"Rebecca, come look at this," Shaun called softly. William had dozed off in his chair about ten minutes ago- he'd already been up for twenty-five hours when Desmond vanished and it had been eight hours since then.
Having gotten the memo for silence, Rebecca walked quietly over to him, draping herself over his shoulder to stare at his monitor.
"That's Ezio's code," she said in surprise, batting his hand away to take control of his keyboard, leaving him to just sit there and look pretty while her chin dug into the top of his head, "What's it doing there?"
"I haven't the foggiest," he whispered back, "but there's a load more of it just before Desmond's seizure and right when he vanished."
"What about these lines?" Rebecca asked, highlighting part of the code, "I haven't seen that before."
"Looks like gibberish," Shaun muttered, "like those nonsensical emails we've been getting."
After humming agreement, Rebecca froze, "You're right. It's not exactly like them, but there's too many similarities for it to be a coincidence. Keep looking for more examples, I'll start some comparisons."
Pulling his glasses off, Shaun spared a moment to rub at his eyes and curse the completely inane situations Desmond could get himself into. He'd been trying not to contemplate too hard on possibilities, preferring instead to simply seek out answers rather than trying to will them into existence, but the longer they went without answers, the more he couldn't help but wonder.
What on Earth had happened to Desmond?
---
Desmond had decided he didn't like blankets anymore.
They'd been nice and soft and warm earlier, but now they felt like they were scratching at his skin and suffocating him. Every time he kicked them off, someone pulled them back on. He wanted to tell them to stop, but he couldn't quite remember how to make his mouth work.
His head hurt so bad.
Every so often, someone would haul him up and make him drink something, sometimes water sometimes something thick and foul, and he hated them for it. But he couldn't get his eyes to focus or his arms to move and at least the water was cold, so he gave in to the strong careful hands and drifted in and out of awareness.
After a particularly long period of blackness, he woke up to grey predawn light coming in through the shutters. His head still hurt like a bitch, but at least it didn't feel like it was going to break through his skull anymore.
Ezio was sitting near his feet, a small candle nearby letting him read a scroll that he looked away from when he felt Desmond's eyes on him. "Buongiorno. Your fever broke earlier this morning. How are you feeling?"
It took a second for Desmond to remember why Ezio was there and even longer for him to figure out how to respond to that question, "Better." It felt like he was choking on the word and Ezio stood, pouring a cup of water and passing it over, "Thanks."
"Nessun problema," Ezio sat back down and pinned Desmond with that particular gaze. Now Desmond knew what the recruits were always cowering about when they screwed up, "What is your name?"
That was actually a bit trickier to answer than it should have been. Because if he'd already been to the Vault, Desmond could hardly tell Ezio his real name without having to fend a lot of questions. Hell, Desmond had a lot of questions of his own and he needed to figure out at least a little of what was going on before he knew what he needed to lie about.
"Desmond Miles," he said after a moment. Ezio was rocking some scruff, but nothing like he'd been when he went to the Vatican. And from what he'd seen of Leonardo, his beard was still short and he was relatively free and unwatched by Cesare, if he was meeting with Ezio in his workshop. So Desmond was probably fine giving his real name.
It someone had told him a year ago that he'd be using facial hair to guess the year... he'd probably have reacted the same way he would if they told him he'd be seeing the Renaissance firsthand, actually.
"Desmond..." Ezio said contemplatively, "That is not a common name."
Desmond shrugged because, really, what could he say to that?
"Well, Desmond," Ezio stood and snuffed out the candle, plunging the room into darkness. Desmond shifted to Eagle Vision instinctively and was almost blinded by the blaze of blue that surrounded Ezio as his ancestor walked farther into the workshop. If possible, it made his head ache even more, "I must talk to Leonardo and you must continue to rest if you are to recover."
Honestly, Desmond wanted to argue that a bit, but at the moment being conscious just seemed like more trouble than it was worth. When he stopped feeling his pulse in his brain, he'd be better equipped to deal with this.
Also, he needed to find a tactful way to ask what the year was.
---
I know it's short, but at least it's the weekend now and I should be updating at least once more! Sorry again for the delay!
Re: Against Time | 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-11-16 03:24 am (UTC)(link)I kid, I kid. I'm looking forward to coming back and finding more to read. :D
Re: Against Time | 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-11-16 03:45 am (UTC)(link)-OP
Re: Against Time | 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-11-16 04:12 am (UTC)(link)Re: Against Time | 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-11-16 05:55 am (UTC)(link)Re: Against Time | 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-11-16 08:05 am (UTC)(link)Re: Against Time | 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-11-16 05:43 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Against Time | 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-11-16 07:10 pm (UTC)(link)