communi_kate: (Default)
 So I've been getting into [livejournal.com profile] comment_fic  on livejournal, because I have major time management problems at present  and fic snippets are working well for me (despite a writing devolution from novel-length fan fiction to novellas, to short stories, drabbles and three sentence fics...) Maybe soon I'll be writing fan haikus, but for now...on with the fic!

Title: Cherry Blossom  
Fandom: Bones
Theme: quotations
Prompt: any, any, quote:I want to do with you what spring does to the cherry trees.

"I want to do with you what spring does to the cherry trees," Booth murmured.

Brennan looked puzzled. "You want me to flower, attracting bees and other beneficial insects, allowing them to pollinate the flowers, encouraging the development of fruit?"

Booth sighed. "Sometimes it is possible to be too literal, you know."
 

Title: The Way
Fandom: Rise of the Guardians
Theme: weather
Prompt: Jack, walking barefoot in the snow.

Jack's feet never get cold, no matter how far he walks in the snow. He's walked as far north as Alaska, spinning snowflakes in the air and frosting patterns on the pipeline when it crosses the tundra. It's always winter where he goes, and although his powers flake out somewhere south of Georgia in the east, he can follow the spine of the Rockies all the way down to New Mexico in January. His frosts add flavour to maple syrup festivals in spring and trace scary silhouettes upon windows on All Hallows Eve. 

He never gets hungry, and he never gets old.

And no matter how far he walks, he never makes it home.
 

Title: The Ultimate Rush
Fandom: 
Premium Rush
Theme: transportation
Prompt: any, any, it's not the end of the journey that matters, it's how you get there.

Wilee looks back over his shoulder at the silver Mazda chasing him, and sees something switch off in the driver's eyes.  It's the moment when the payoff if the driver succeeds becomes greater than the risk that he will seriously injure or maybe even kill Wilee in his attempt to steal the letter, and both of them know it.

He's had people nearly kill him before, but none of them have been actually trying. The fear does not surprise him. The exhilaration does. It's the ultimate in adrenaline rushes.

He thinks of Vanessa, only a little as his mind is already on his route, and then even that thought is lost in the sheer joy of speed.

Maybe the driver will catch him. Maybe he won't. If Wilee were a gambling man (and more importantly, f he actually had any money) he would be betting on the latter. It's not the outcome that matters. It's how you get there, and how fast.

Wilee grins as his calf muscles begin to burn and wonders if he is, ever so slightly, as insane as they say.


Title: Loot
Fandom:
Assassin's Creed 3
Theme: 500 words
Prompt: any, any, making the best of a bad situation.

The dead soldier's blood stained his scarlet coat wine-red. His eyes and mouth were open. Sergeant Tom Wilkinson of the Continental Army looked away and shuddered as a fly landed upon one glazed eyeball. The sounds of the battle faded behind them, leaving the flies and the corpses behind like jetsam upon the conflict's shore.

"Turn him over," he said.

Taylor shoved the Englishman's body with the toe of his boot.  The redcoat slumped onto his face. Wilkinson crushed the fly neatly between his fingers.

"You get his boots," he told Taylor. "I'll check for jewellery."

He knelt to take the dead man's hand, smiling as he noticed a gold wedding ring. The sinews of the corpse's fingers gave way easily beneath his knife.

"Get away from the body," someone snapped.

Wilkinson glanced up, still sawing. A quartet of British soldiers levelled their rifles at his head. He stopped.

"Now then," he said carefully, "-we don't want trouble." He looked over at Taylor. "Drop the bloody boots, lad." 

"Scavengers!" one of the soldiers said contemptuously.

"No need for that," Wilkinson said easily. "We're only trying to get by." He held up his hands and glanced hopelessly at his rifle, which he had propped some distance away against a rock in order to leave both hands free. "You going to shoot us, or what?"

"Nope," The lead soldier sucked his teeth. "We'll take you prisoner."

Wilkinson had heard tales of the English prison hulks. He tensed, preparing to rush them, and saw an arrow sprout from the redcoat's throat. The soldier choked, hand reaching up to his white cravat, and then he dropped to his knees, collapsed, twitched and was still.

The second soldier raised his gun. Wilkinson swallowed.

And then an Indian materialised from a clump of beech trees and stabbed the soldier in the back. The third redcoat jabbed at the Indian with his bayonet, but the native swayed away from the blow and buried his axe in the soldier's ribs with a sound like a lumberjack felling a tree. He dragged the weapon out and chopped it into the last soldier's skull, dispatching the man as neatly as a steer. It all took less time than a man would take to load a musket.

The Indian looked up. "The main command?"

Wilkinson pointed. "That way," he said.

"My thanks," said the Indian. He stepped into the bushes, then turned back. "You should not dishonour yourself looting corpses. One day it may be your body that is rifled."

"What do I care?" said Wilkinson. "I'll be dead."

The Indian stared at him, that grim hatchet face unreadable. "Never mind," he said at last, and set off into the bush.

"I didn't realize natives were involved," Taylor said.

Wilkinson picked up his knife. "Some are. I've heard that fellow has a grudge against the British. For whatever reason, I'm glad he's on our side."

Taylor looked doubtful.

"Cheer up," said Wilkinson. "Things could be worse. He could be on theirs."


Title: Drowning
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Theme: 500 words
Prompt: Altair +/ anyone, hydrophobia.

"I'm not afraid of water," said Altaïr.

Malik rolled his eyes. "Of course not."

The short expanse of water stretched in front of them, sunlight rippling from its surface. Five or six low pilings studded the surface.

"If you're afraid of water, we can take another road."

Altaïr's mouth was a flat angry line under his hood. "I'm not afraid."

Malik gestured at the water, "Then go first."

Altaïr glared at him. His usual grace escaped him as he stepped to the edge of the jetty and peered warily at the first paling. "It's slippery. There are better ways."

Altaïr gazed at the water, shaking his head, and Malik shoved him. He didn't mean to push so hard, but the planks were slippery. Altaïr's boots slid out from under him and he toppled into the water. He didn't struggle or splash. He just sank. 

Malik waited a few moments. When Altaïr did not reappear he cursed and began to strip off his weapons. He pulled off his boots, robe and sash before he dived into the water.

The harbour was blood-warm, and murky. It was deep enough to drown in. The pilings stretched down past Malik like tall trees to bury their roots in harbour mud.

There was no sign of Altaïr.

Malik cursed and dived deeper. He saw a pale blur to his right and swam towards it. Altaïr's robes billowed around him. Malik saw a gleam of steel and realised the idiot had kept all of his weapons. He did not waste time trying to cut them free. He grabbed hold of Altaïr's wrist and tried to pull him to the surface.

It didn't quite work like that. Altaïr's knee caught Malik in the stomach, and his breath escaped in a cloud of silver bubbles. He pushed Altaïr away. Altaïr grabbed for his hands. Malik snatched his arms back and backpedalled, treading water as he seriously considered letting Altaïr sink.

He reached for Altaïr's hood, hoping to tow him to the surface but the waterlogged cloth slid through his fingers before they had travelled more than an arms' breadth. Altaïr's struggles grew weaker. In desperation, Malik slipped behind Altaïr and grabbed him by the throat. He'd either save Altaïr or strangle him. At that moment, he didn't care which.

 To his surprise, it worked well. Altaïr couldn't reach Malik, and Malik had one arm free to swim. The shining surface of the water came closer and closer. Malik's arms burned.

He struggled to keep Altaïr's head above water until he finally managed to get one arm onto the jetty.

They coughed their guts up together in the baking sun before Malik said. "I didn't know."

"You did. You almost drowned me."

"So did you." Malik retorted. "You should have taken off your sword."

"I'd rather die."

"You almost did." Malik snapped. "Why didn't you say you couldn't swim?"

"You asked if I was afraid of water," Altaïr coughed. "I said no."

Malik sighed. "You're an idiot," he said.

 


communi_kate: (Default)
Title: T'inquiete, je gere
Fandom: Assassin's Creed/District 13.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Bad French in both senses of the word.
Ratings: PG-13
Summary: Altair is an undercover cop in the lawless District 13 who has to fight a shadowy organisation known as the Templars. Fortunately, he has friends. Unfortunately, he has enemies as well.

Don't worry. I've got it. )
communi_kate: (Default)
Waiting to post a couple of longer fics; this leads to ficbits!.

The Assassin's Guild (AC/Pratchett crossover)

I don't know why there isn't more Pratchett/AC fic, but there should be. Set during Jingo.

In a mountain fortress far from Al-Khali, two men bent over a map, and argued.

Each was noteworthy in his own way. Altair ibn La'Ahad, Grand Master of the Klatchian Assassin's guild; a man so talented that he wore robes white as snow yet had more kills to his name than any other Assassin in living history, frowned as he surveyed the map. Malik Al-Sayf, the man whose job was to stop Altaïr from doing something so unbelievably stupid again without thinking about it first, shook his head.

"If we are to stop this," he said, pointing to the map with his single hand, "we must be fast and merciless. Let me take ten men to Gebra to kill this Sir Samuel Vimes, and we'll finish this war before it starts-"

The Grand Master shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

"There's no point."

"There are many points," snarled Malik, "and they are all pointing straight at the heart of this empire! Why not?"

"Because I have seen what will be in the orb," Altaïr said, "and that is not what happens."

"Not what happens? Then how will this end? Next thing you will be telling me that the island will sink beneath the sea!"

"Well," said Altair, "Stranger things have happened."

"No," Malik said. "They haven't."

 

So Take Your Fast Car (and keep on driving) (Fast and the Furious Six)

Because I like cars. And sure, Diesel's getting a little old to pull off the skin tight t-shirt look but FF6 is just...fun. Insert obligatory joke about eleven-speed gearboxes and never-ending runways here.

Domenic Toretto is just a guy who likes to drive fast cars.

So when he stands alone in the hold of an old Russian cargo plane that can't take off because it's got three muscle cars anchored to its fuselage and watches the tarmac race by through the open hatch that just swallowed the English super-villain's flailing body, he wonders how he got into this situation again.

 The plane, he realises, appears to be on fire.

But his Charger is on the ramp, hood pointed firmly towards the plane's nose cone.

The keys are in the ignition.

And Dom Toretto has always liked fast cars.

 

Provenance (AC)

So I was playing AC3, and got pissed off by Haytham's 'Men like you have no need for books' comment in the opening chapters. Books are for everyone.

"Men like you have no need for books," says the sayyid, and holds out his hand.

Malik curses his bad luck. The sayyid would never have noticed him if Malik hadn't stumbled and dropped the book directly under his nose. Now the book's fine leather cover is stained and Malik is in a situation he would far rather have avoided.

The sayyid won't catch Malik if he decides to run, but he will have to leave the book behind to have any chance at climbing. He could unseam the man with a stroke, but he will need his arm free.

"Let's have it," the sayyid says sharply.

Malik realises that his hesitation is ruining his cover. A true shopkeeper would hand over the text; trading a small loss now for the hope of greater profit later.

But Malik is not a shopkeeper, no matter how much he pretends.

"Plague," he says.

The sayyid takes a step back, his hand still extended. "Pardon?"

"The book. It carries plague. From a plague house. You know that the disease can be passed upon skins?"

The sayyid gazes at the book's fine tooled leather binding, snorts and turns away, flicking the memory of Malik off like dust from his shoe. Malik smiles, tucks the book beneath his arm, and walks on.

He has always been good at hiding in plain sight.

 

Discoveries (AC3)

Ziio, why?

"I expected more," he says.

Ziio wishes that Haytham had found whatever it was that he sought in the cave. She tells him the story of Iottsitison to console him, and then she slips her small hand into his larger one and wonders how their bodies will fit together.

Haytham gazes at her with an expression that looks like love but isn't, in the same way that the paintings on the cave wall look like people but do not breathe or move or speak. There is darkness within Haytham, but Ziio has a darkness all of her own, and she knows herself a match for him.

They make a new bargain, and do together what men and women do. 

communi_kate: (Default)
Heh.
Found this
'Ask Malik,'
a tumblr comic in which Malik answers questions. Snarky, hilarious and notable because both Malik and Altair look like Middle Eastern men.

and this :
'ad novitatem',, the tumblr of fanfic author (and, I think author of the excellent webcomic 'the less than epic adventures of tj and amal' tanyart (second link is to tanyart's fics on AO3) which is amazingly geeky.

UPDATE: Tanyart and 'TJ and Amal' author bigbigtruck are in fact two different people, so my mistake. However both 'ad novitatem' and 'tj and amal' are well worth checking out

communi_kate: (Default)
The meme's ending soon (what will  do with my evenings?) so go check things out, if you haven't already!


For [personal profile] rthstewart , Temeraire/historical RPF; Dragons, RAF Never was so much owed by so many to so few

Operation Chastise

"Bombs away!" cried Gibson as George sent Wallis' bouncing bomb spinning down towards the darkly shining water with a single flick of his curved talons. Gibson peered down past the Lancaster's olive-green shoulder to follow the bomb as it fell, and in the erratic light of the flashes of anti-aviator fire that lit up George's cloud-pale belly as if it was already Christmas morning, he saw the bomb bounce once, bounce twice and sink without a trace before it even reached the dam.

"Dammit!" Gibson swore briskly through his teeth and called to George for more height, feeling the massive wings beat slowly below him as they curved away to make room for Hopwood's dragon to take her own run.

For [personal profile] degrees , Assassin's Creed, Altair/Malik, Military AU

I know precisely what is meant by 'commissariat.'

"The trouble with you, Private ibn La'Ahad," said Captain Malik al-Sayf of the Army of Assassins' Intelligence and Logistical Corps. "is that you never know the best time not to fight."

"At least I can fight," Altaïr protested, his words loud in the sudden, icy silence of the commissariat.

"We need people who can stop fighting when they're told," Malik snapped, "just as much as we need people who can start."


For 
[personal profile] betony , Much Ado About Nothing, Hero & Don John & his henchmen, "I am quiet and gentle and shy, my lords; but in no way am I merciful."

Merciful Grace

"Mercy?" Don John suggested to his assailant as Dogberry and Verges dropped their swords and slouched away into the shadows.

The figure that Don John had mistaken for Claudio tipped up her velvet mask and smiled coldly at Don John as he recoiled from the pitiless expression in her dark and lovely eyes and the bared blade held loosely in her hand.

"Mercy, my lord?"  Hero said softly, "I am quiet, and gentle, and shy, but in no way am I merciful."


For [personal profile] degrees , Assassin's Creed, Altair/Malik, can you keep a secret?

Silence

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes," said Malik," but that is not the question. The question is , can you keep silent?"


For [personal profile] rthstewart , Vorkosigan series; Ivan; competency

Competency

Spoilers for 'Cetaganda'.

"You are," the ghem-lady gasped as she arched back across the cushions, panting and spent, "...more than competent, Lord Vorpatril."

Ivan gritted his teeth and cursed Lord Yenaro and his own un-co-operative anatomy to the stars before he turned to her companion.

"On Barrayar there are four stages of competency, my lady," he purred, "let me show you them."

communi_kate: (Default)
 for [personal profile] mardypants , Earthsea, Azver/Irian, only a warrior would fall in love with a dragon.

Explanations

'There are many explanations, but nobody can explain away a dragon. They can't explain the haughty arch of her neck, the war-banners of her scaled wings, the dark gleam of her eyes. Irian is beyond any explanations; beyond even words, and the one thing Azver cannot explain is why any man would not fall in love with her on sight.'

and for 

[personal profile] hostilecrayon 's prompt , Assassin's Creed, Malik, still strong

The Fury of a Patient Man

 

'The Templars mistake his missing arm for weakness, but Malik is still strong.

He's strong enough to ignore every insult, every casual slight; strong enough to wait, gathering information piece by careful piece and learning everything he can about his enemy until he knows just where to strike; strong enough to bank the embers of his anger so they smoulder slowly instead of bursting into flame.

He's strong enough to teach the Templars one last lesson; beware the fury of a patient man.'

and for [personal profile] vialethe , Firefly, River, but still the world turns on its axis/and we make circles so we can match it

Satellites

'The world turns; and River turns with it. She circles in a slow dance, her skirts spread in a chrysanthemum swirl, rotating  slowly so that everything around her spins like satellites around her perfect sun.

Jayne watches her from a safe distance and mutters "I always knew that girl was gorram crazy."'



communi_kate: (Default)
Title: After This Age (7/7)
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG
Summary: Malik learns his place. Final chapter, plus author's notes.

At least my sword is faster than my tongue... )
communi_kate: (Default)
Title: After This Age (6/7)
Fandom: Assassin's Creed.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Mild violence.
Rating:12
Summary: Malik's first mission is not quite what he expected.

It is not a mutilation. It is a mark of honour... )
communi_kate: (Default)
Title: After This Age (5/7)
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Spoilers: None
Warnings:None
Rating:PG
Summary: Malik accepts his first mission.


We walk in the dark, to serve the light. We are Assassins... )
communi_kate: (Default)
Title: After This Age (4/7)
Fandom: Assassin's Creed.
Rating:PG
Spoilers:None
Warnings:None
Summary: Malik prepares for his initiation.

The only thing you'll hurt with that is yourself... )
communi_kate: (Default)
Title: After This Age (3/7)
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Violence.
Summary: Malik meets Altair.

How do you know if your tribe are brave or cowards? )
communi_kate: (Default)
Title: After This Age (2/7)
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Summary: The brothers reach Masyaf.

Did you think the Assassins were tales too? )
communi_kate: (Default)
Title: After This Age (1/7)
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Rating:PG-13
Spoilers: None, but Jossed to Jerusalem and back.
Warnings: None
Summary: Malik and Kadar join the Assassins, and come of age. Prequel to the first Assassin's Creed game. Complete, but I'm posting in separate chapters.

Choose them companions, give them good names, and teach them the Creed. That's all I ask... )

fanart!

Oct. 24th, 2012 09:34 pm
communi_kate: (Default)
I got some fanart for my fic  Favour of Heaven courtesy of wyrd! Altair and Malik on the cathedral (they're listening to the Cambridge Singers' Hymn to the Virgin, and I don't care if it is anachronistic) Go see it here on deviantart!
communi_kate: (monkey)

If you read one piece of historical writing this week, make it this: Ex Urbe, on Machiavelli. Absolutely bloody brilliant.
communi_kate: (Default)
 
So I completed Assassin's Creed: Revelations, and the revelation appears to be that there's nothing left to reveal. Ubisoft has the franchise sewn up tighter than an ageing Assassin's increasingly strained doublet strings and I must confess I find my enthusiasm for fanfiction waning. Want to know what happens to Altar post-AC1? Ubisoft has the answers, and it's horribly depressing. What about Ezio? Ubisoft have that one covered as well, and you can read all about it! The only thing left to do is make the characters shag each other-and gratuitous shagging's never been hard to find in any fandom, even one whose protagonists are theoretically warrior monks..

Having said that, I genuinely did enjoy the game. Ezio is and always has been an engaging protagonist, and the missions show a lot more variety than the previous instalments; although I must confess I have a soft spot for the old days when all you had to do was sneak off to one of three interchangeable cities, shank some poor bastard in the throat and then ride back to tell your mentor all about it. The music was so good I bought the soundtrack, and Istanbul was as beautiful as the engine could render it.  I enjoyed the city so much, in fact that I spent half the time on story missions and the rest buying shops, upgrading my armour and searching for fairly mediocre treasure. The scenery was stunning, so stunning that I can only regret that I must have somehow missed the enormous city-filled caverns during the weeks I spent in Cappadocia in real life. So what if I skipped all the boring Desmond Tetris parts because there weren't any hookers or guards in them? Who cares that the only reason the game was called 'Revelations' was because 'Assassin's Creed: Faffing Around in Istanbul.' didn't sound quite as good? I could have quite happily spent another few hours faffing around the bazaars if I hadn't just bought Saladin Ahmed's new book.

The new AC:3 game has just been announced for October and I'm looking forwards to spending a few more hours faffing around whatever historical period the developers have decided to pillage this time. Rumor has it that the sequel (threequel?) is set in the American War of Independence, but then rumor's also had it that it's set in Meiji-era Japan, World War Two, Victorian London and modern-day New York. I must admit that my first reaction was 'what will they find to climb?' because 1776 Amrica wasn't known for its skyscrapers, but I can't wait to take a swan dive off George Washington's nose.
communi_kate: (Default)
...in which I reduce my fanbase even further by crossing AC with a fandom even more obscure.
This one is totally [personal profile] everbright 's fault for flagging the challenge in the first place. Written for [personal profile] petra 's 'Psychic Wolves for Lupercalia' multi-fandom mini-fest.

Title: A Brotherhood of Wolves
Fandom: Assassin's Creed x A Companion to Wolves ( by Elizabeth Bear ([livejournal.com profile] matociquala ) and Sarah Monette ([livejournal.com profile] truepenny ))
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For the very start of AC.
Warnings: Absolutely no psychic soul-bonded wolf-sex. Apologies.
Summary: Malik blames Altair for his brother's death.

To arms! Kill the Assassins! )
communi_kate: (monkey)
The satire site christwire reviews Assassin's Creed:Brotherhood under the link below. As is usual on christwire, the best parts are in the comments.

Assassin's Creed teaches children how to murder

Before everyone takes to comments to explain just how wrong the review is, it's worth noting that the whole site is an exercise in trolling right-wing Christians. As such, it's not recommended for anyone who is easily offended.  Other notable game reviews include 'Soul Calibur Video Game Using Breast Mechanics to Entice Boys To Play' and 'Minecraft: The Game That Teaches Boys To Make Penis with Digital Blocks.'
communi_kate: (Default)
 ...A good old-fashioned multichaptered adventure fic. Assassin's Creed for preference, though any fandom considered. I'm a bit stressed at the moment with work and I'm looking for something I can really get my teeth into to take my mind off stuff.  Exotic locations, daring escapes, and races against time with the future of the whole world at stake a definite plus. Extra if someone dangles from a ledge by one hand or a helicopter explodes.

Anybody got any recommendations? 
communi_kate: (Default)
Title: Deus Vult
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Spoilers: None
Rating: R, for violence.
Summary: Written for the prompt: counter kill

Deus Vult... )

Title:An Improbable Paramour.
Fandom: Assassin's Creed.
Spoilers: For AC: Revelations
Rating: PG.
Summary: Written for the prompt: Ezio/Sofia, eavesdropping. Fluffy rather than sexy.

An Improbabale Paramour... )

Title:A Cunning Plan.
Fandom: Assassin's Creed.
Spoilers: None.
Rating: PG-13, for drug use.
Summary: Why didn't the Templars just ban hay?

A Cunning Plan... )

Title: Eagle's Nest
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Spoilers: Mild for Revelations, environments only.
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for the prompt:' Ezio in Masyaf.'

Eagle's Nest... )

Title: Right Hand Man.
Fandom: Assassin's Creed.
Spoilers: My Crusades canon; jossed all to hell and back.
Rating: PG
Summary: Written for the kinkmeme prompt 'Altair asks Malik to be his right hand man.'

Right Hand Man... )

Profile

communi_kate: (Default)
communi_kate

January 2017

S M T W T F S
1 234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Aug. 22nd, 2017 12:56 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios