Daniel Cross - Deleted SceneDaniel Cross - Deleted Scene2 years ago in Drama More Like This
Soon after the confrontation in Brazil, Daniel traveled to Abstergo's Rome facility, where Warren Vidic held Desmond's father William hostage in hopes of obtaining Desmond's Apple of Eden as an exchange.
Daniel found Desmond in Vidic's animus room demanding that he hand over the Apple of Eden. "It's the 21st century and you are still running around with a tiny knife for protection? It's stupid!" he teased as he aimed the gun at the Desmond as he hid behind the animus like the mouse he was.
Suddenly as something was trying to stop him visions of early 1900's flooded before him. Demanding his vision and mouth as Russian spilled out. Visions of the shard, the turn of the world and a glimpse of what lies beyond appeared.
Daniel screamed, not now and for the memories to get out of his head. They felt like lava pouring in threatening to burn him away completely. He ran out of the room in a panic, seeing bits of Abstergo as patches of forests flickering on top. Daniel could rememb
Waiting Game (GAME SPOILERS)He was getting too old for this, he was the Grand Master for a reason, the people under him were supposed to do this. But in all honesty he wanted to track down Church himself. Most likely anybody else would just screw up. Benjamin Church was a slimy bastard and had so far escaped his efforts to track him down. But he had received word of Church stealing a shipment intended for Washington and his forces, the shipment had been brought through the old abandoned church he was currently approaching. If the empty carts nearby, broken ones too, were anything to go by this place had long since been abandoned. Even by Church's men. But there was every chance they would return so he would lie in wait for them, an ambush in the waiting.Waiting Game (GAME SPOILERS)2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Now, where to hide. There were regular patrols of redcoats outside, one of which he already had to dodge, so hiding outside of the building was out of the question. It wasn't the best place for an ambush anyway. No, he would have to hide inside the church. Only i
Assassin's Creed 3 chatroom(Note: I have not finished the game yet)Assassin's Creed 3 chatroom2 years ago in Profiles More Like This
AnimusVictim17 has logged in.
UnappreciatedBrit has logged in.
UnappreciatedBrit: Desmond, is there a reason you're not in the animus right now?
AnimusVictim17: yea Becca said we should give it a few hours to cool off.
UnappreciatedBrit: "cool off"? What, were you petting so many dogs the system crashed?
AnimusVictim17: i think ur the only guy i know who types wt full words.
UnappreciatedBrit: Are you saying I should dumb my language down to your level?
AnimusVictim17: im just saying there are faster ways 2 type.
UnappreciatedBrit: if anything, I think you should stop using those stupid text-speak adages. They make you look like a sixteen-year-old girl.
TreerunningPatriot has logged in.
AnimusVictim17: how did u get this chatrom?
UnappreciatedBrit: charming, Desmond.
EagleOfMasyaf1191 has logged in.
SexyItalian72 has logged in.
AnimusVictim17: Oh wait its just this
Assassin's Go To: McDonalds (Part 1 of 2)Ezio: "Connor, do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?"Assassin's Go To: McDonalds (Part 1 of 2)2 years ago in Settings More Like This
Connor: (Glances out the window where at least 100 fan-girls are waiting) "All the time."
Ezio: "Do you think they'll ever leave?"
Connor: "Well considering AC3 is going to come out soon, already hundreds of fan fics have been made about me, and almost every girl that's seen my picture wants to kiss me till I explode not a chance."
Ezio: "Well I'm sick and tired of being stuck in this house; if Malik doesn't get some fresh air, he's going to kill Altair."
Connor: "Still mad about what happened at Solomon's Temple, huh?"
Ezio: "That's just the tip of the ice cream."
Connor: "Iceberg, Ezio; the tip of the iceberg."
Ezio: "Whatever " (Glances outside) "Oh great."
Ezio: "Mercer is consuming the fan-girls again."
Connor: (Smiles darkly) "Is that such a bad thing?"
Ezio: "Well now we have to deal with the paperwork "
Connor: "But Ezio, brother, you're missing the big picture!"
Ezio: "Which is
Connor: Of Heart and SoulHis breath rattled in his throat. His father held him easily by the front of his torn bloodied robes. They were soaked in thick dark blood that gently seeped from the gunshot wound to his side and sword cut to his chest. His body was a ruin of bruises and injuries and scars. He had not seen thirty summers – and now it appeared would not see any more.Connor: Of Heart and Soul2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
“The Assassins are finished,” Haytham hissed, shaking him and then letting him go. Connor crumpled bonelessly to the ground, his cheek pressed against the cool earth. He could not move. Did not want to move. Had no will. No strength to defend himself when his father’s boot kicked him over onto his side. The bitterness of defeat, of his immanent death, roiled in his mouth mixed with the blood that he could no longer summon energy to spit. It simply slid from the corner of his closed mouth in a red rivulet, slow like lava down a volcano. Haytham’s hand on his gasping chest was a distant, disembodied sensation.
Crossed times -Alex-Altair ficCrossed times -Alex-Altair fic3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter 1: First meeting
Altiar was defiantly the weirdest men Alex Mercer had ever met.
That was one of the first things Alex mercer found out about he assassin; though if he'd had his way he wouldn't have known anything at all because he wouldn't have taken the man into their hideout; it was Dana; his younger sister, who convinced him to help the other.
When they first met Altair he was wearing strange clothing he was severely wounded and was unconscious, Dana had insisted Alex carry the injured man to Ragland to be fixed up; she had a much kinder heart that Alex ever had and grudgingly he obeyed his sister, if only so they could get a few answers later.
Ragland had a hard time talking off the others outfit having seen nothing like it before, it seemed underneath every layer of cloth, there was a new weapon hiding underneath; a longsword a short sword, hidden throwing knives are just a sample of Altair's arsenal but what shocked the three of them, was the
Connor: Lesssons of Compassion 1He slithered to the top edge of the sloping ravine and peered over. A wide dirt road wound below, between the birches and the oaks green in the full summer leaf. The sun had turned the deep green into a shinier colour giving an eerie light to his surroundings. The grass and underbrush fed by the spring rain were tall and springy under his feet as he'd run lightly. He had not had any intention of coming here. He had just been out for a run, an exercise in escape, of subsuming his troubles in the simplicity of physical activity. Things had not gone well for him lately, not for the Assassin cause either. The British had seemed to have anticipated their many moves. His Indian allies had been either routed or rounded up as spies. Such concerted operations could only have come about as a result of the British spies and informants among the Assassins. The defeats and the consequent realignment of thought and plan had driven him to seek the solitude of the forest, the big primeval refuge thatConnor: Lesssons of Compassion 12 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Connor: Our BurdensHe twirled his tomahawk, his wrist flicking faster than an eye could blink. The Redcoat facing him grunted, unafraid. He'd seen such bravado before in many a brawl, in many a battle. If this young cocksure killer thought to frighten him here on the outskirts of civilization, he had another thing coming. No one killed the town's deer and got away with it.Connor: Our Burdens2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Redcoat levelled his musket at the stone-faced Indian gesturing for his comrades to step in. The dead deer with the stiff arrow still poking out of its side was forgotten. Sabres whistled through the air aiming for the Indian's head. Which was not there when the men's blades clashed. Irritated the two Redcoats sprung away from one another. A shot rang out amid the trees startling the nesting birds into an explosion of wings. The bullet hit no one and nothing. It simply hit a tree trunk and embedded in the thick bark. Cursing the three Redcoats spun around in a circle facing outwards, a defensive position not one of them like
Ready for the Hunt_ AC3 Poem of ConnorReady for the Hunt_ AC3 Poem of Connor2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The moon is set,
Flames of the fire grow dim,
The Cry of wolves being to howl,
Through the misty cold woods,
It is time for the ultimate hunt,
The enemy is near,
I grab my axe and bow,
And set off towards my enemy's lair.
EzioxReader: A Sparrow's LamentA Sparrow’s LamentEzioxReader: A Sparrow's Lament1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
An Attempted Continuation of “I Thought You Were Dead” –Flash Fiction
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Brotherhood
Please note that there are no actual sparrows in this story. D:
I do like faves a lot but I’ve come to like Comments more because I don’t get them very often.
The sudden sound of Ezio’s voice almost made you freeze, the dragon mask now just centimeters from your face. But, then you noticed he wasn’t looking in your direction at all. In fact, he was facing entirely away from you, his eyes still closed. Was he simply asleep now, in some sort of mental limbo before coming out of his coma?
Thinking perhaps he had not noticed you, you finally secured the mask to your face, and attempted to divert a possible confrontation. You quickly stood up and bowed graciously to the woman whose cottage you had stayed in overnight and left, trying to make distance for yourself. You w
Connor: The Stuff of Life6"This is sick," Amy remarked staring at the impaled owl. The hapless bird had been transfixed by a black arrow against the pine trunk. "This is just absolutely sickening."Connor: The Stuff of Life62 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Connor glanced at the avian corpse and turned away. "It's a sign from him. A warning."
She half turned. "You're joking, right?" Noting the serious expression on his face closed in of course as usual she added, "No, you're not. Humour is not part of your make up. Not right now." She walked over to where he stood morosely staring into space. "Hey," she said touching his arm. "This is going to get worse: the animals will get bigger, the longer we go on without responding. I think we need to take the time," she thumbed back the hammer on her gun. "to deal with this nutcase."
Slowly he turned to her, black eyes impassive. A frightening man. An Assassin in truth. She raised her chin higher. She would not be intimidated. After all she'd brought him back from the dead. She held up the loaded gun.
Connor: Out in the ColdHe lunged forward, defiant. And missed his mark. His feet slid out from under him on the powdery snow as he was pushed back. He fell onto his back with a dry grunt and rolled over or tried to. He was rolling. Just not aside but down. Along the snow that whispered dryly under him, his fingers gouging tracks in a futile attempt to stop.Connor: Out in the Cold2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He slid right out over the precipice in a white cloud of white powder, his hands scraped raw red by the coldness of the snow. He dangled the abyss, snow slowly floating past him with a deceptive ease. He panted, chest constricted by the press of the cliff edge.
Only the leather strap around his wrist stopped his free fall. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder down. It was a long way down, a very long way. His heart pounded in his heaving chest. It hurt to breathe. His wrist pulsed with every heart throb.
A shadow fell over him. Reflex took over. He glanced up, fast. To see the black barrel of a gun pointing at his face, the hammer drawn back.
Encounter: Chapter 1Weapons flashing, angry voices. "Assassin! Assassin!"Encounter: Chapter 15 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The assassin- Altaïr Ibn La Ahad- scaled the wall, desperate to escape the guards. He let out a cry when an arrow struck his back. Fire ran up and down his spine.
In his pause during the climb, an archer took advantage and shot another arrow at Altaïr. It hit his right arm, making him lose his grip on the wall. Altaïr dangled from the ledge with his left hand, pain shooting up his arms and back as he tried to swing his legs up to get back. The first time didn't work, the second he barely made it on.
By this time one of the guards had attempted to go after Altaïr. A sword in his hand, he scrambled up the wall. With his terribly injured state Altaïr had trouble reaching the top. The guard approached him, taking a jab with his sword and missing. But he had slipped on something; the guard glanced down to see wet blood. Glancing up he saw Altaïr's blood dripping on him. It gave him courage that the as
Connor: Paternal Affection‘Of my father there is no sign. And I am glad of it.’Connor: Paternal Affection1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
He looked down at the supine form on the barren cot and told himself that he should be feeling something. This was his son, after all. There should be some feeling, some twinge of a paternal instinct. But there was nothing. The man lying in front of him, pale and bandaged about the lower chest, was anathema. He was his enemy. He was one of the other Brotherhood, the one they’d been fighting with for centuries, the one that believed in freedom, justice and peace.
His enemy was one of the Assassins.
His enemy was his son.
He sighed, his hands falling to his sides. O Ziio, if only you had not turned me away, Haytham Kenway thought, his eyes picking up the boy’s similarities to the one woman he had really loved and respected. She’d had hidden strengths, had Ziio: conviction, an imperious will, stubbornness to see her plans through. Her son – their son (he should be honest with himself at least)
I am the One_AC PoemsI am the One_AC Poems2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I am the one who seeks Knowledge,
Hidden within these ancient relics,
Treasures of uncontrollable Power.
I am the one who seeks Leadership,
Guide the truehearted warriors,
To Fight off the evil within our World.
I am the Mentor.
I am the one who seeks Vengeance,
For the deaths of my family,
And the Lives of the Innocent.
I am the one who seeks for the Truth,
To know my enemy's plans,
In order to Stop their sinful Conspiracy.
I am the Messenger.
I am the one who seeks for Justice,
Fighting for what is right,
To gain Victory from my foe's defeat.
I am the one who seeks for Freedom,
Encounter endless battles,
To bring Peace for all people of the Nation.
I am the Warrior.
I am the one who seeks for Guidance,
To uncover the past,
From my Ancestors before me.
I am the one who seeks for Courage,
Fight through the struggles,
In order to Save the Future from Disaster.
I am the Chosen One.
Connor: Servant of the MasterChapter 3Connor: Servant of the Master1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Charles!” Haytham's voice rose an octave. “I had said he was to be watched, kept close. Not sent out on a ship!”
Charles Lee lowered his eyes, mortified. Had he misunderstood his master's orders? Then the Assassin's sneering face appeared in his mind, the indifference with which his enemy had listened, had submitted, to his fate had been unsettling. Lee's face coloured at the insulting image and he raised his eyes to find the cold eyes of his master, waiting expectantly.
“Sir,” he tried and cleared his throat. Haytham's face was as cold as ice and expressed about as much of his emotion. Haytham was a man of cold ire: it did not blaze but smoulder for a long time. “Sir, I thought – I believed -...”
“You believed that letting him loose on a slaveship would solve our problem, Charles,” Haytham interrupted him coldly. “Now he is out there, alone.”
Haytham walked to the window and stared out for a momen
100 Themes Challenge - Part 1100 Themes Challenge - Part 12 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Malik's first thought, when introduced to the scrawny boy with the golden eyes included a wondering over his Master's sanity.
Altair never realized just how complicated his past was until it took him an hour to explain it to his betrothed the month before their wedding.
3. Making History
As he held Kadar's dying head in his lap, Malik had the odd thought that the novice had never really made history.
Each wanted to best the other, and the clash of swords in the training ring of a slate eyed boy and a golden eyed child confirmed a rivalry that would last to the end of their days.
When he was turning his back on his Master's dead body, Altair could only think that now nothing could sadden him, and his soul was now unbreakable.
After a while of thinking he was seeing his brother's ghost, Malik began to think his obsession with maps was normal.
With his arm bleeding and his body broken, the ride to Masyaf fro
Connor: On the TrailThe cocked gun touched the back of my head. I stopped dead in the dank smelly alley and sighed sharply.Connor: On the Trail2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
“You know,” I said with some asperity (dangerous though that was) over my shoulder without bothering to turn. “I really do not like it when a gun is pointed at me.”
“And I do not like being followed,” was the instantaneous response. The barrel of the gun jabbed into my back. “I want answers. I want to know why you trailed me.”
I closed my eyes. My fault. I’d slipped, gotten too eager, too close. He’d sensed me, with those extraordinary lupine Native senses of his. He was not a man one crossed twice. If they did, they did not live long. I had seen the evidence for myself.
“Tell you what,” I tried to sound nonchalant, hands raised placatingly. “You kill me now – so dies your chance of finding the man you’re looking for.”
“Who said I am looking for anyone?” he asked coldly standin
Connor: The Stuff of Life2"You know," a voice drawled behind him. "I really hate it when someone kicks a man down."Connor: The Stuff of Life22 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The sound of a cocking pistol startled him. He jumped with an angry yelp. Turning around he glared at the intruder. A woman with a rather cold smile on her face. The barrel of her pistol was levelled at his forehead. Somewhere in the dark recesses of his fired brain he acknowledged that she must be a very good shot.
"Why don't you take your sorry rear end out of here while I am still in a generous mood?" she suggested sweetly, raising another pistol to point at his chest. She raised her eyebrows. "Well? What do you think?"
He opened his mouth to answer and then just shook his head like a stubborn mule. She sighed and fired off near his left boot.
"Scoot," she ordered while he shrieked, red faced, that the game was not fair. "I am not playing." She gestured with her other gun. "The next bullet will open a hole in your head so big that I will see your brain drizzling out." There was an undercurrent
Connor: the Last Assassin 7Chapter 7Connor: the Last Assassin 71 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
“He did not wish to kill that wolf.”
The old man looked up sharply from his carving, his whittling knife held in a callused rough skinned hand. The boy – Sparrow’s Wing his name was, he’d said – was sitting across from him, watching the carving take shape. It would be a wolf, he thought. The old man had a certain lupine affinity. His eyes were those of a wolf: keen, penetrating, steady. They held you and did not let go.
“He did not?” the old man asked mildly, his hands immobile on the rough table surface. It was evening, a week after he’d met the boy. Tomorrow or the day after Connor should be back. He had felt the wolves moving, coming closer, their thoughts and dreams bent on home. Among them, a troubled human yet lupine soul.
The boy shook his head. His face was so open, so free of guile or ill intent that it was easy to believe his words. They rang with sincerity, conviction – just like the Assassin’s. Both
Connor: Family and Freedom 2It was an hour later that he came back wearing a black uniform that looked very much like the ones that the five men in front of the compound wore. The sky was just barely beginning to pale to the east, the stars gradually disappearing. The moon still shone with a brilliant light. A soft breeze came in from the ocean. The streets were deserted now. It was the quiet time before life asserted itself once more.Connor: Family and Freedom 22 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Haytham critically examined Connor’s outfit and made a few minute adjustments.
“That should do,” he approved. “Follow me.”
Together they approached the gated compound walking as if they belonged there on business. Showing fear or nerves would get them nowhere but full of bullets. The five men had the look of hard bitten veterans, thugs really, who obeyed the orders of any man who paid them, and paid well. One of them held up a hand to stop them.
“Hold strangers,” he said, eyes studying the two, full of suspicion. “You tread on private
Connor: the Angry Chef“Stephane, what is wrong? Where is Sam Adams?”Connor: the Angry Chef2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Frenchman turned around angrily. He had been going through his boxes, overturning some and upending others as if looking for something. His gestures had gotten more and more jerky, his muttering more furious.
“Who cares?” he snarled, throwing his arms in the air. “I’ve been robbed!”
Without any more ado, Stephane snatched his meat cleaver from the wooden block by the fire place and charged past Connor, swearing sulfurously in French under his breath as he pushed past. The young Assassin sighed tiredly. In the short time he’d known the man he had never seen him this furious. No, this was beyond fury. This was outright rage when a man abandoned his sanity and any sort of sense of right and wrong. Stephane had been outraged once too often. Now there was hate mingled with the hurt and anger in his soul. He twirled his cleaver with a certain professional panache when Connor followed him out of
Connor: The Last AssassinPrologueConnor: The Last Assassin1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Glancing around the clearing, he panted, drawing in deep lungfuls of air. He swayed back slightly, eyes sliding over prone bodies, some in positions most unnatural. He exhaled sharply, his sword hanging by his side, red with blood, gobbets of brain and muscle still glued to the steel. The crimson colour reached to the hilt and even covered his hand and braces. His white-blue robes were stained in places. He wiped his arm across his face, sweat beading again on the olive coloured skin. He blinked it out of his eyes.
And that was why he did not see a man come up out of the bushes.
A single loud shot rang in the clearing. The tall Native staggered for a step. Then coughed, his hand going to his chest where a red stain was spreading. He grunted, blood spilling out of his mouth in a sluggish stream. The dirtied blade fell from his hand. He moaned, his knees giving way. With a hard impact that reverberated from the knees upwards, he fell. Struggling to draw air into his lungs he lif
Hooded ManHooded Man2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Born to kill, born to eliminate people
That lie. The hooded man has secrets
Deep down in his head, he doesn't deny
Them, he's not afraid.
He's everywhere, always there
Watching you, hunting you and
Waiting to strike. Collecting more information
For your death to be surprise.
You don't even notice that, but he
Is there. Always ready, always
Well prepared the hidden blade is
Waiting to stab.
While you're on your way, making
Plans for the dirty game. Somehow he
Appears in front of you and takes away all
The bad dreams you don't heal anymore.