Dust on the street [Assassin's Creed, EN, OC, PG]

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Dust on the street [Assassin's Creed, EN, OC, PG]

ViestiKirjoittaja Ninjin » Su Tammi 29, 2012 12:16 am

Title: Dust on the street
Rating: PG
Fandom: Assassin's Creed (OCs)
Genre: [sure do hate genres.]
Summary: Again their blades met. They stood in a cloud of reddish dust the crowd and they themselves had raised off the ground, trying not to blink despite the tears washing off the particles from their eyes and leaving traces behind as the drops pushed through the dirt on their skins.

A/N: I've never written action. Everything must be tried once, so. I don't know why I'm even posting this lol. No beta readers, potential errors courtesy of me alone and my complete unwillingness to read through this again in fear I'll "accidentally" delete it.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The boiling hot sun was scorching the open pathway between the creaking wooden buildings in a serious state of disrepair. In the shadow of a particularly leaning one there stood a hooded figure, his head bowed so that his face was obscured beneath the azure cloth. He wore the equipment of a man ready to fight for his life in every corner, at any given moment, ten small knives tied to his belt's both sides and arms and legs covered with armour.
He was digging the tip of his shoe to the dusty ground, fingering the edge of the blade connected to the piece of armour wrapped around his arm.

He bore every sign of an Assassin, a high ranking one, and even though he looked bored he was alert and as deadly as ever, and the approaching Templar knew this.
A grin crept on the knight's face as he calculated each of his steps to not stand out of the crowd and carry to the waiting man's ears. His hand was gently caressing the handle of his blade as if eager to pull it out, but in reality, he was simply subconsciously fascinated by the manner sun had warmed the metal hot like it had been held above fire.

The Assassin seemed to become more alert. The fingers that had been taking note of every little scratch and bump along his Hidden Blade, suddenly letting it pull back into the cover of its base. He never once rose his head to look, but the Templar knew he was watching.
He stopped in front of the Assassin, his hand now loosely wrapped around the hot handle he'd been caressing earlier, a smirk stretched upon his features. The cat-like, slender man in front of him slowly raised his eyes to face him, his almost black eyes glinting in the sunlight.

"A terrible weather, isn't it?" the Templar spoke in a velvety voice.

"A disgrace," the Assassin replied, his tone as talentedly masked bored as the rest of his profile, "Shall we?"

The Templar let out an amused huff and nodded.
"Let's," he agreed and pulled out his sword as he spoke.

The Assassin bared his Blades, easily throwing his body out of the way of the other's sword as he swung it through the air.
"Like trying to catch a deer with a net made of stone," the lightly armoured hooded man chuckled, effortlessly cutting one of the leather straps holding the Templar's scabbard at place.

"A deer is as deadly as a butterfly," the Templar commented, kicking the falling sheath out of his foot space.

"I'd beg to differ," the Assassin argued and their blades met mid-air, raising a nauseating, screeching sound amidst the whimpers and shouts and screams of their unwilling audience.

The Templar paid little attention to dodging the second Blade missing his waist by mere inches and tearing a hole into the cloak covering his shoulders. He responded by landing a heavy hit on the arm the Blade was connected to with the side of his metal vambrace, but despite the pain inflicted to the Assassin now retreating swiftly a couple steps, he did not flinch or show any signs of receiving pain.
The Templar felt his mouth's corner twitch in unwilling appreciation of the man's superb training. He knew few men who could stand up to pain unflinchingly and never be disoriented by a heavy blow, but these Assassins... The rumour had it they did not feel pain at all, and it had not stemmed from fear or lies as much as the masterful manner these men and women controlled their bodies.

A child was crying somewhere behind the Templar's back as he dodged a flying knife and was momentarily blinded by the sun hitting the metal and shining right in his eyes from the mirroring surface.
He shook his head, gasped and raised his eyes again, but the Assassin was nowhere to be seen. For sure, he had not meant to roll his eyes, but that was what he did anyway, stepping aside in time to watch the azure lighting hit the ground gracefully like a cat exactly where he had stood a second earlier.

Again their blades met. They stood in a cloud of reddish dust the crowd and they themselves had raised off the ground, trying not to blink despite the tears washing off the particles from their eyes and leaving traces behind as the drops pushed through the dirt on their skins.

The Assassin's hood had fallen, revealing a man in his early thirties with deep dark brown, thick and lightly curling hair that reached up to the middle of his neck and framed his face, thin but distinctive brows and a delicately built but sharp and a little crooked nose. He had a careless stubble over his lips and a swiftly trimmed beard on his chin, and his left ear, partially visible from underneath his hair, had ripped all the way up to the middle. He was clearly not pureblooded, having the heavy characterstics of a Romani and the graceful form of an Arab in his jawline and eyes, his skin the curious tone of desert sand the Templar hadn't witnessed in any given race.
He had a scar on his right cheek that ran from his hairline down to the corner of his mouth that had not been there when the Templar had last faced him, and the sight of it made him grin.

"Someone's cut your pretty face, Assassin," he commented and deflected the second Blade off with his vambrace.

"He paid for that mistake," the Assassin said in a careless tone, leaping out from the reach of the Templar's sword.

They circled for a moment, trying to find a weak spot from the other's defenses, but there were little to be seen from both sides.
"I think you're getting old," the Templar continued, brushing aside his light hair, "your reflexes are not the same they once were. Back then... you wouldn't have suffered a cut like that."

"Oh, I don't think my reflexes are suffering yet."
He did not see the Assassin leap, but in a moment's time, his back had hit the ground and he felt the cool metal of the other's blade brush against his throat.
"Quite the contrary."

Blood trickled down the Templar's neck. He closed his eyes and grinned at the irony.

"Novice," the Assassin dramatically sighed and pulled himself up once more, cleaning the drop of blood off his blade.

*

The sunset coloured everything the exact shade of the blood orange the Assassin was holding. His legs swung back and forth in the space between the building's front wall and the rooftop's edge, over which they were hanging. His right arm was pressing against the warm tiles of the roof, giving him support as he leaned back to watch the city change shape with every passing moment. The voices of the people below echoed from the walls and the hillside the building stood above.

The Templar hesitated - he hated rooftops, and for a reason. Only idiots and Assassins used them for anything other than their given purpose that to the Templar was simply holding off the weather.
He had taken off his boots, finding it hard to find any solid grip for his feet, but even now his breathing halted as he debated moving forwards and staying back. The city below was so far away. He had no idea what madness had driven him there, as it was not a sane man's deed no matter what his reasoning had been.

The Assassin glanced back over his shoulder, bit into his fruit and frowned.
The Templar looked away, drew breath and stepped forwards, feeling his insides roll out of his body and down the roof, free-falling into the bloody city below. When his horizon regained its usual shape and position. He sighed and made his decision. Bit by bit he approached the edge, kneeling down a couple feet off from it and crawled there, his nails digging into the mossy tiling beneath. He grinded his teeth together, lips pursed together, his skin gaining an unhealthy tint of grey to it.

"If I didn't know you, I'd say you're afraid of heights. But of course you're not afraid of anything, so that must be simply my mind playing tricks on me," the Assassin said in a soft tone.

"One more word and I'll push you off," the Templar muttered and dug his heels to the roof.

"You know it would do you no good."

"It would certainly do me a lot of good, Assassin."

"Ah, but, Theo, it is a dumb thing to do, still. Completely pointless, and you might lose your footing as well. I'd be willing to bet my life on this; you wouldn't survive the fall, nor would you catch the ledge or know how to land safely. There's a lot more to it than praying to gods who do not hear or care."

"Shut your mouth, Halim, or I'll shut it for you."

The Assassin laughed, his hands now busy untying his Hidden Blades, the halves of the orange laying on his lap, their red flesh glimmering in sunlight. The Templar reached for the other, feeling dizzy and distracted, unable to move but one part of his body at a time.
The Assassin laid his weapons on their side and stretched his wrists first up, then down and grabbed again the half of the orange he had been eating earlier.

"It's been a long while," he said, eyes reflecting the buildings bathing in light.

"Too long. It's good to see you alive, Halim. I thought our previous meeting would be the last we'd have."

"Hardly," the Assassin commented, "I, on the other hand, cannot understand why you haven't been done away with yet. So close to the inner circle... so crucial to the cause. Nobody knows your true colours and that will inevitably be your undoing one day."

"I can handle a couple of your people any day, Assassin."

"Yet you cannot even handle me."

The Templar laughed, his low voice resembling a bark or a growl of some beast as he did so, hoarse and breathless as his laughter was.
"You, Halim, are a different matter altogether. It'd be a pity to rid the world of the scourge you are."

"Ah, you and your manners, Theodor."

The Templar slowly let his feet crawl to the edge of the roof and, holding his breath, pushed them over it. The feeling of the gentle wind caressing his bare skin was relieving and tasted of freedom, and the weight of his legs hanging down rooted him to the surface below much better than hanging onto it with all fours had done.

"The report, then, if you may," the Assassin requested and laid his dark eyes upon the Templar.
The Templar nodded and spoke.
"I'm an angel, you ass. I don't have a soul to sell."

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Re: Dust on the street [Assassin's Creed, EN, OC, PG]

ViestiKirjoittaja Avalyn » Ma Joulu 31, 2012 11:30 pm

Olen luultavasti huonoin mahdollinen ihminen kommentoimaan tätä ficciä, kun en tiedä Assassin's Creedistä muuta kuin että se on videopeli. Lisäksi minun pitäisi tämän ficin sijaan laatia kommenttia Graceen, mutta olen nyt sen verran väsynyt jätettyäni väliin päiväunet ja kirjoitettuani tutkimussuunnitelman lisäksi jo kaksi kommenttia, ettei aktiivisuustasoni riitä Gracen ansaitsemaan pitkään ja ajateltuun kommenttiin. Pelkään siis pahoin, että joudut tällä erää tyytymään siihen, että kommentoin tätä. :D

Jotta en unohtaisi, laitan heti tähän alkuun löytämäni typon. :P

It's good to see alive, Halim.


Tässä pitäisi kai olla "It's good to see you alive, Halim", eikö vain?

Saman tien voisin myös kysyä, ovatko seuraavat kaksi kohtaa tarkoituksella sellaiset kuin ovat:

The Templar hesitated – he hated rooftops, and for a reason.


Ah, but, Theo – it is a dumb thing to do, still.


En oikeastaan tiedä yhtään mitään pelaamisesta, joten voi hyvin olla, että olet laittanut nuo tarkoituksella ja ne tarkoittavat jotain, minkä kaikki muut AC:n pelaajat tietävät. Ajattelin kuitenkin tarkistaa. ^^'

Sain yllättävän paljon irti tästä ficistä, vaikka fandom on minulle niin vieras kuin vain suinkin mahdollista. Kenties auttaa, että luin varsinkin yläasteella useita fantasiakirjoja, jotka oli laadittu pelien pohjalta (tarkemmin sanottuna Dragonlance- ja Forgotten Realms -sarjoja). Tässä ficissä on itse asiassa vähän samanlainen tyyli kuin monissa Forgotten Realms -romaaneissa, vaikka toki tässä näkyy myös sinulle luontainen tapa kirjoittaa. Erityisesti sinun kädenjälkesi näkyy hahmosuuntautumisessa: vaikka tässä taistellaan, minulle jäi silti tunne, että valokeilassa ovat hahmot, heidän kokemuksensa ja suhteensa. Keskimääräisessä pelin pohjalta laaditussa fantasiakertomuksessa erilaiset aseelliset yhteenotot ja muu toiminta saavat helposti tarpeettoman paljon tilaa hahmojen kehittelyn kustannuksella, mutta jos sinä laatisit fantasiaromaanin, siinä ei luultavasti olisi tätä ongelmaa.

Myös kuvaus oli tunnistettavasti sinua. En oikeastaan osaa sanoa, mistä se johtuu, mutta heti ensimmäisistä riveistä lähtien minulla oli selkeä tunne siitä, että luen juuri sinun laatimaasi ficciä. Ehkä kyse on siitä, että olet henkilöiden kehittelemisen lisäksi kiinnostunut luomaan selkeän kuvan ympäristöstä selkeän lukijoille. Lisäksi sanoisin, että sinun kuvauksesi ovat hyvin soljuvia ja maalailevia, jopa hieman runollisia, ainakin verrattuna perinteiseen fantasiakirjoissa esiintyvää kuvaukseen. Mutta hyvä niin, sillä esteettisesti miellyttävä kuvaus on aina ilo. ^^

Huomaa kyllä, kumpi meistä on parempi englannissa: jouduin katsomaan hävettävän monta sanaa sanakirjasta. -.- Esimerkiksi Templar, azure ja vambrace olivat minulla aivan uusia tuttavuuksia. Olen kuitenkin edelleen sitä mieltä, että on ihanaa lukea sellaista englanninkielistä ficciä, jonka kirjoittaja hallitsee kielen kunnolla paitsi sanastollisesti myös rakenteellisesti, ja se määritelmä pätee sinuun ihan täysin.

Tiedätkö, lukisin ihan mieluusti toisenkin tähän universumiin sijoitetun ficin. Vaikka en olekaan aikoihin lukenut yhtään fantasiaromaania, pidän edelleen fantasian eksotiikasta. Salamurhaaja on prostituoidun ohella yksi ehdottomasti kiinnostavimpia ammatteja - seksi ja murhaaminen ovat aina taattuja mielenkiinnon herättäjiä. XD Lisäksi tykkäsin kovasti siitä ympäristöstä, jossa tämä tapahtui. Alun kuvauksen perusteella erehdyin hetken verran luulemaan tämän sijoittuvan Villiin länteen, mutta todellinen tapahtumapaikka taisi kyllä olla jossain Lähi-idässä. Vai veivätkö temppeliherra, hiekka, paahde ja Salamurhaajan mustalais- ja arabipiirteet ajatukseni väärille jäljille? Toivottavasti eivät, sillä Lähi-itä ja Aasia yleensäkin kiehtovat minua kovasti. ^^

By the way, genre-kohtaan olisi mielestäni voinut laittaa ainakin actionin, generalin ja oneshotin ilman, että olisi mennyt pahasti pieleen. Ehkä myös draama tai friendship olisivat käyneet? :>

Ystävyydestä puheen ollen pääsit yllättämään minut ficin jälkimmäisellä puoliskolla, kun Salamurhaajan ja Temppeliherran suhde osoittautui ihan muuksi kuin mitä ensimmäisen puoliskon taistelukohtaus johti ajattelemaan. Tosin ilmeisesti se oli ihan tarkoituksellinen veto noilta kahdelta, heidän ystävyytensä tai liittolaisuutensa - mistä ikinä nyt tarkalleen ottaen olikaan kyse - vaikuttaa olevan jonkinasteinen salaisuus. Ja no, ehkä he halusivat myös mitellä vähän taistelutaitojaan, kun näkivät pitkästä aikaa. Joka tapauksessa pidin kovasti ficin jälkipuolen pinnalta katsottuna töykeästä mutta pohjimmiltaan kuitenkin ystävällismielisestä sanailusta. On selvää, että nämä miehet eivät ole toisilleen ihan merkityksettömiä, vaikka heidän ankara ja vaarallinen elämänsä estääkin heitä osoittamasta toisiaan kohtaan tuntemaansa kiintymystä kovin selvästi. (Kuulostaapas traagisen romanttiselta...)

Olen varmaan sanonut tämän sinulle jo monesti, mutta kirjoitat harvinaisen hyvää dialogia. Sinun henkilösi eivät höpötä loputtomiin turhanpäiväisyyksiä vaan pysyvät useimmiten niukalla asialinjalla, mutta silti kaikki repliikit tuntuvat luontevilta ja aidoilta. Tai no, ehkä tuo vertaus peuran nappaamiseen kivestä tehdyllä verkolla ei ole maailman normaalein, mutta se on silti ihana. Sitä paitsi tuollaiset repliikit kuuluvat fantasiakirjallisuuteen siinä missä miekan heiluttaminenkin. (...Luin äskettäin yhden ficin, jossa miekka oli kiertoilmaus penikselle, ja nyt en voi käyttää sanaa miekka ilman vääriä mielleyhtymiä. -.-) Joka tapauksessa nautin jälleen kerran suuresti dialogeista - niin tosin myös kaikesta muustakin. ^^

Vaikka vaikutit olevasi vähän huolissasi siitä, miten actionin kirjoittaminen sujuisi, niin tämän ficin taistelukohtauksen perusteella se vaikuttaa sujuvan sinulta oikein hyvin. Vaikka en kokenutkaan suuria sydämentykytyksiä, koska olin aika vakuuttunut siitä, että Salamurhaaja voittaisi Temppeliherran, pidin kuitenkin miesten mittelöstä. Se sai minut itse asiassa vähän nostalgiseksi, niin että nyt tekee mieli mennä kirjastoon lainaamaan jokin fantasiaromaani. Toisin sanoen kiitettävä suoritus, varsinkin jos tämä tosiaan oli ensimmäinen kerta, kun kirjoitat toimintaa. Tietysti taistelukohtaus olisi voinut olla pidempikin, mutta rehellisesti sanottuna en ole niin kiinnostunut taisteluista, että olisin toivonut sen olevan pidempi. Luin fantasiakirjojakin lähinnä kiinnostavien hahmojen ja eksotiikan takia, taistelukohtaukset taas olivat enemmän vain pakollinen paha, varsinkin jos niihin uhrattiin sivukaupalla tilaa ihmissuhteiden kehittelemisen sijasta.

Hahmojen kanssa teit vähän liiankin hyvää työtä, sillä huomaan haluavani kuumeisesti tietää heistä lisää. Miten Halim päätyi salamurhaajaksi ja mihin hän pyrkii nyt? Kuinka kauan hän on tuntenut Theodorin, ja miten he päätyivät tutustumaan toisiinsa? Entä miten Theodor päättyi temppeliherraksi (vai olisiko Templarin oikeampi käännös tässä yhteydessä temppeliritari?) ja mitkä ovat hänen aikeensa? Kenen leivissä Halim ja Theodor ovat, ja ketä vastaan he juonittelevat? Ah, onnistuit herättämään ihan liikaa mielenkiintoa hahmoja ja heidän menneisyyttään kohtaan yhden oneshotin aikana! Mokomakin. ._.

Hmm, minusta tuntuu, että olen vain höpöttänyt tässä kommentissa mitä sattuu siinä järjestyksessä, kun asiat ovat mieleeni tulleet. :D Toivottavasti saat kuitenkin jotain irti tästä räpellyksestä. Nähdään Gracen parissa sitten, kun olen vähän virkeämpi. ^^ Ja hei, hyvää uutta vuotta! ♥
Jossain ollessaan on jostain poissa.

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Re: Dust on the street [Assassin's Creed, EN, OC, PG]

ViestiKirjoittaja sunny » Ma Huhti 22, 2013 4:46 pm

I was not going to read and comment any more fics today, but as soon as my eyes hit the fandom on this one, I could not resist. I absolutely love AC, although I must confess, I've never read fanfiction about it. I guess I've never even considered someone would write about it, but hey, why the heck not when it's one of the best video games ever made? I must say, I was a teeny bit disappointed for you used OCs and not the game's characters because Ezio is the hottest video game character ever hands down. Of course (at least for me) your text was mainly about the atmosphere and setting anyway, so I understand your choice. OCs always grant the writer more freedom.

I recently read a fic from you in Finnish and I really liked it; now I'm having a hard time deciding which I prefer, you writing in English or in the language of our homeland. You said this was your first action fic, and I must say, action is a very challenging genre in literature. It's hard to keep up an intense pace without breaking at least 50 grammar rules. I've only read a couple of excellent action scenes in my lifetime that manage to keep up the pace and have you holding your breath. Yours was above good, but there were some problems with not breaking the flow of the sequence.

For me, the action bit was not the best part. It were not even the characters, which both stayed true to the type of people after whom they were modelled, nor was it the great dialogue that was terribly cocky and believable at the same time in a very entertaining way. I loved the narration the most; the way you described the environment and kept it alive. Since I've played the game(s), it was easy for me to picture the setting on my own, but you coloured it in perfectly. I'm sure people with no concept of what the hell AC even is can get a clear picture on the grounds of your text. I had AC2's soundtrack playing in the background and Jesus Christ did it boost the mood! I'd advise every future reader to listen to this while reading. I think it adds a whole new level of depth into this already deep and detailed piece.

Like I said, the narration was my favourite part. The sentence you used in the Summary was definitely one of the highest peaks of your fic, it was absolutely gorgeous. There were many other impeccable choices of words, and if I was to quote them all this comment would never end.

He was clearly not pureblooded, having the heavy characterstics of a Romani and the graceful form of an Arab in his jawline and eyes, his skin the curious tone of desert sand the Templar hadn't witnessed in any given race.


This was one of my favourites. I'm not even sure why, but as I look back at the fic now, this particular sentence keeps surfacing. Your style of writing is just so incredibly artistic and pretty, yet clear and unpretentious. (By the way, you misspelled "characteristics". That mistake slipped past me, too, but not Chrome!)

I did not spot any typos (other than the one above), but there were some sentences where the pettifogger in me wanted to say something. As a matter of fact, in that quote I chose there was a mistake with the "hadn't". In narration, you should not use the compressed forms of 'did not, had not, would not' etc. After a short while of skimming through the text, I noticed that you didn't make this mistake elsewhere (or at least I failed to spot it if you did).

The sunset coloured everything the exact shade of the blood orange the Assassin was holding


A bit of a careless error maybe, but delete the "the" that precedes "blood orange". (By the way, I don't know if you're a frequent user of tumblr, but if you are, you might understand why that particular choice of colour made me snicker :'))

His legs swung back and forth in the space between the building's front wall and the rooftop's edge they were hanging off from.


In formal text, prepositions should not end sentences. I'd advise you to reconsider this sentence and change it, for example, to "--- and the rooftop's edge, from which they were hanging".

Other than that, I did not find complaints. A stunning piece indeed, I would have enjoyed it even if I wasn't a mad fan of the franchise. Thank you for this experience! :)
難道 是天意

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Re: Dust on the street [Assassin's Creed, EN, OC, PG]

ViestiKirjoittaja Ninjin » Ti Huhti 23, 2013 1:59 pm

..... I skimmed over new messages like whoopdidoop and closed the tab and then after a while was like "... wait." and came back to oggle at the name of this fic at the bottom of the list. That is how much I expected a comment, haha. Thank you, though! (and... Avalyn, did I ever reply to you in PM or anything? If not, then screw me, and let it be known I am thankful for the comment!)

First off, I appreciate the grammar corrections, even if it means I have to go google preposition and what it stands for, haha. I have absolutely no understanding of theoretic language, grammar is something I understand out of experience and rules only confuse the living hell out of me. This fic is one of the first ones I wrote in English and I've gotten a lot better since - I'm not sure if I can even read through without dying an agonizing death due to the horrible grammar I've used, but I guess the only way to get better is to make mistakes, so all in all, reading something you did ages ago shouldn't be such a pain. Right? Well, it is. D:
I'll look over what you mentioned, though! With maybe the exception of the "the" in front of the colour of blood orange, as the tone refers to the colour of a certain blood orange, currently held by the dude whose name I forgot, as in
the blood orange the Assassin was holding

I actually stopped reading at the blood orange the first time around thinking yeah, that was an odd mistake to make, but reading on clarified the context.
Now I'm curious as to what Tumblr has on blood oranges, as I've inhabited the place for too long to not know, yet I don't. I... I need to go find out. Not now, but soon.
(edit: I took a look at the stuff and my brain went on the beta mode and now everything looks weird. As in... repeated-"silakka silakka silakka"-too-long sort of weird. xD)

Ahem. Yes, let me skip back to the beginning of your message, and thank you again. Thank you!
Is this fic REALLY only a year old? That seems... strange. I would have guessed two years. Either way, as I said, it's an older one. After this I've gotten a lot better at not only English in general but in writing action, which has suddenly turned into a genre I feel very natural dwelling in. I guess it's a natural expansion to my strong points considering I'm at my best describing details, and action, in essence, is all about details and very little about a full picture, which sort of comes as an afterthought. My writing is probably the written equivalent of macro photography - interestingly enough, macro photography is also the only sort of photography I know how to do, haha. I wish I could just do details forever and forget the stuff I'm not so good at, like, ugh, plots.
Which brings me out from the awkward line of borderline self-praise and back to replying. The reason I chose OCs is that, although I love Ezio and Altaïr, their stories are told and they inhabit a realm where there are literally thousands upon thousands of equally amazing possibilities. I'm fascinated by the potential in this universe, the world created around the characters we know and love, the faceless masses of the Brotherhood you recruited and those who came before (who weren't Those Who Came Before, and holy crap now that I remembered THEM, I also realised the incredibly vast possibilities in THEIR world).
I gave myself a headache just now.
What I'm trying to say is that I'm a background artist in AC fandom. For some reason. AC is literally the only fandom I have ever felt more in love with creating content about the world surrounding the story than adding to the story itself. Even more surprising considering how much I dislike my own created characters and especially OCs as main characters in fanfiction in general. I'm really glad this didn't prevent you from reading - it would have prevented me for sure, for forementioned reasons.

... I really need to figure out the names of these dudes. Sec.
[a second passes]
Here. Halim and Theo were actually born out of the AC2 soundtrack on a particularly inspiring bus trip to or from somewhere. The music in these games is breathtaking, and I highly recommend that to everyone in general and not just potential readers, haha. Seriously though, the atmosphere. ;_;

And once more - thank you so much for both reading AND being amazing enough to leave a very thought-through comment, I can't possibly explain how much I appreciate it! I feel stupid repeating this, but I also sort of want to dump a truckload of awards on you for being awesome, and since I can't do that, I just stick to repetition in hopes I'll one day feel it was enough. This... is probably not going to happen, so I stop.
But I still love you for being amazing. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
"I'm an angel, you ass. I don't have a soul to sell."

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