Once again, my choice of fanfic to get rid of some serious writer's block. I've been playing Assassin's Creed 3 and though I love it to bits and it's beautiful as hell, I find myself missing Syria and the first game, even with all its little glitches. So, after an enjoyable romp through the Assassin's Creed Fanfiction Archive, This baby was born. It works like this:
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards! (protip: I pre-listen the song to get a feel of the time I've got, and do all the editing and proofreading afterwards)
4. Do ten of these, then post them
All the songs are ones I really enjoy, and if you've the time, I suggest finding them on youtube. It's worth the trouble.
Disclaimer: Sadly, do not own. Will hug to bits anyway.
p.s. For those of you waiting for ToaK: We are living in the same city now, so as soon as I can work out an annoying little kink in the story, we should be able to get back to writing. Love you all. :)
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1. Mikko Tarmia – Lux Tenebras
The hours just before dawn were the most peaceful, even in the bureau. Assassins on assignments or otherwqise in the city were sprawled on the floor pillows, both inside and in the roofed garden, only occasional snore and the quiet scratch of the rafiq's quill piercing the silence.
Malik looked up from his work, another map of the city, and fixed his gaze to the sky. Though the sleeping forms under his roof numbered many, one was missing, and the dai was waiting to hear the alarm bells of the city ring, a clamour to break the peace of the pre-dawn quiet, but also a sign of success, and that soon the last still-roaming assassin would return to his fold.
...
2. Namie Amuro – Fight Together
Malik grinned before sprinting up the pile of boxes and onto the roofs of the low buildings of Masyaf, Altaïr hot on his heels. Kadar was third for now, but the other kids were catching up to the head trio quickly.
The next roof was at an angle, dividing the route to two possibilities. Malik sprinted left, aiming for a pile of hay by the wall, barely noticing his rival take the high route and jump at the building on the right.
The hay tickled Malik's nose and the boy sneezed while he ran across the street, startling two bearded rafiqs and disappearing over the low wall onto the lower tier of buildings. There were no more handy hay piles but Malik utilised an empty cart to get down, and sprinted towards the goal.
No! Altaïr had gained on him, and appeared from behind a building, barely an arm's reach in front of him. The gates loomed over the two boys, who grinned at each other.
Nothing beat racing a friend.
...
3. Michiru Oshima – Beaming Sunlight
Gentle wind caressed Malik's face as the rafiq sat on the bureau roof, gazing at the dusk-lit walls of Solomon's temple. It was a full year now since that fateful day there. An arm and a brother taken, and all faith in an already-lost friend broken. Yet so much had happened, changed, since then.
None dared disturb his thoughts this night.
...
4. Thomas Bergersen – Soulseeker
The first time Malik had been forced to have dealings with Jerusalem guards led to dozens of his maps and books strewn on the floor while the armoured men ransacked the bureau, disguised as one of the city's scholarly shops. The rafiq shook with anger, not caring much of the old tomes his cover forced him to study, but feeling acutely the damage on each and every one of the maps he'd enjoyed since childhood.
The helpless rage inside, knowing he could easily end the lives of all guards within the bureau but that doing so would break two of the three tenets, made Malik's nails dig to his palm as he pleaded and paid tribute like any common merchant, praying the men wouldn't find the stashes of weapons.
Most days the position Al Mualim had granted him felt like a different sort of demotion.
...
5. Hania – Hear You Scream
Sweat slicked his palm but the grip on the hilt of the sword stayed true. Bile rose to his throat at the laughter the leader of the Templars, three prone grey and white figures littering the ground.
Ambush!
Run, rafiq! They mustn't get to you!
They were but novices, out on their first assignments under his care, not even allowed to go solo. And this is what he'd led them to. A pointless death trying to keep the Templars from reaching him. Now, wielding the sword of the oldest of the three, Malik bared his teeth at the laughing Templar.
"I should have known you were an assassin, bookseller", the man mocked. "I guess this means you are the leader of the fabled Jerusalem bureau. But you are but a cripple and now you are alone."
Cold sweat trickled down the assassin's back. The Templar was right, as much as Malik hated to admit it. There were a dozen enemies, half of them carrying crossbows, and he was alone.
...
6. Alan Silvestri – Avengers Theme
The walls of Masyaf had always been high and proud, but now nothing good laid within. Al Mualim had betrayed them, had been a traitor to the creed for years.
Malik ran, one of the others sometimes helping the one-armed rafiq to climb as swiftly as his two-armed companions. Soon the group saw what they'd feared. Altair was already surrounded by controlled assassins, too many for even him.
Malik was the first to draw his throwing knives. "Brothers, it's time. Let us end this."
...
7. Apocalyptica feat. Sandra Nasic – Path vol. 2
Malik rubbed the stump of his arm, his mood sour. The post of a scholar suited him ill, the sky and sun-baked rooftops beckoning from beyond the bureau. A thud of boots landing in the inside garden drew the fresh rafiq's attention and he sneered, recognising the hooded newcomer.
"Safety and peace, Malik", Altaïr spoke the customary meeting, and Malik's eyes narrowed.
"Your presence here deprives me of both." The one-armed man sneered, spitting to the ground. Altaïr may have been demoted and working penance, but the punishment for intentionally breaking the creed had always been death. Of course the master's pet would receive special treatment.
Malik volunteered barely any information, not even bothering to hide his wish that the assassin would get himself killed on his mission. It wouldn't bring back Kadar or fix his arm, but to him it would be a sort of justice.
...
8. Heather Dale – Mordred's Lullaby
His mother had had a warm smile and a fair voice, but that was the extent of Malik's memories of her. He knew he should remember more, if not for himself then for Kadar, but never could recall more than details. She hadn't liked that Malik's father was an assassin, that he would become one as well.
He could remember her singing, lullabies with sad or bitter tones, but the words never were there save one message in the ones she sung after giving up. Loyalty. It was a lesson he'd taken to heart from her. If Malik couldn't keep her mother happy by staying with her, then he would at least observe the creed loyally, never to bring shame on his parents' names.
Too bad neither of them was there to see their eldest become an assassin.
...
9. Three Days Grace – Time of Dying
Kadar cried out in pain and Malik flinched, his head already swimming in red haze. Robert de Sable was not an easy opponent and Altaïr's idiocy had forced a straight confrontation. Though thrown out through the collapsed wall the master assassin would surely soon dash back into the fray at least, having taken another way in as always.
He could no longer see Kadar in his peripheral vision. The only Templar still standing was de Sable, but there was so much blood Malik couldn't even be certain which of the prone bodies on the floor was his brother. Tears mixed with sweat and blood on his face and his right arm shook of the strain, the left a mass of agony by his side. The artefact glinted to the side, but first he'd need to somehow disengage from de Sable.
Where was Altaïr!?
...
10. PMMP – Pikkuveli [Little Brother]
When Malik thought about it, he'd preferred if Kadar hadn't started on the path of becoming an assassin at all. But it was what his brother had always wanted, and any son of an assassin would be an assassin themselves, after all. Still, Malik was a big brother, and had the instincts of one.
Kadar grew quickly, surpassing most of his age companions, always chasing the shadows of his older brother and Altaïr, and Malik was proud of him for that. Kadar's skill was great, and the better it was, the less likely it was that anything would happen to him. Even though above his brother in rank, Malik couldn't always look out for the little one.
This was one of those times. Al Mualin described this mission as the most crucial one for the brotherhood, yet Kadar had been chosen to accompany them to the temple. Great potential had its risks, it seems.
Malik could only pray his brother would return unscathed with them.