I'm still caught as to whether I should continue this, or perhaps write another little bit for "Little Leo and the Leap of Faith." Pt.2, pg.35, of the kinkmeme. A nice, short little drabble right now. :)


Altair padded through the halls of the underground Italian base. He had heard something coming from the room with the thing Desmond had called the Animoose, or something akin to that. As he looked cautiously around the corner, he was confused.

"No, you tit," Shaun was sitting Desmond's lap on a sleeping bag with a bowl of popcorn, "you can't let him disappear from the screen."

"Or the timer appears," Ezio deadpanned.

"Or the timer appears," Desmond iterated.

Ezio scoffed and adjusted the piece of plastic in his hands. He was sitting just his pants, his hair untied, and a determined look on his face. He ground his teeth. "This is ridiculous! I've done this mission before, and it was not nearly as hard as this!"

Desmond laughed as Shaun threw handful of popcorn at him. "Shut up and do the mission."

"Look at the way I run! I limp like a cripple! And those robes are most unflattering! And the minstrels—the minstrels!—what on earth possessed you to create such a thing! Those poor, wretched creatures are rolling in their graves now! They were nothing like you depicted!"

Altair rolled his eyes at his descendant.

"You heard them, too?"

He looked behind him to see Malik standing there.

"They're noisy: how could you not?"

Malik made a disapproving noise and nodded his head.

"Are you sure I can't play the one with Altair? It's clear whoever you hired to make this game is ignorant, and if I must suffer, I want to play with Altair."

The master assassin stepped forward, crossing his arms. Ezio noticed him and threw him a charming smile before the screen on the TV went white. Ezio cursed loudly in Italian and flung the controller away.

"I give up! This is ridiculous! Obviously, this rendition of me is far too inferior! His terrible clothes are affecting him! They are probably too tight in the pants and that makes him run like a cripple, and his face—mio dio!—his face! How much more awful can it get? I look like the turkey on the side of the road after that large electric carriage ran over it! My skin is as flat and lifeless as the material boxes are made from! Clearly, you are corrupt, you," there was plenty of cursing in Italian, and Altair shook his head as Malik stepped up beside him.

Desmond was laughing like a goon as Ezio turned and glared at him, pointing at Shaun. "And you need to learn what memories to pick! That was a disgrace of a mission! You should have picked one from the next day when I was with Leonardo!"

Shaun wrinkled his nose. "Despite my British ancestry, I'd rather not watch my lover's ancestor have at it against whatever surface they happen to come across."

Ezio scoffed and pressed a button on the black box. "Come, Altair. Let's see if they have raped your character as bad as mine."

He crept over, lowering his hood as he crouched beside Ezio.

"I do not understand this modern technology. What are you doing?"

Desmond grinned. "To keep Abstergo on their toes, Shaun published our story to a gaming company, and they have turned our stories into a video game, an electronic game that you can play on the 'prison box.'"

Shaun scoffed. Altair frowned. "It wasn't my fault I thought they were imprisoned in there. Everything in this age is electronic."

Malik walked over quietly and sat down. "It will make for an ineffective bunch of assassins, is what is will do."

"Quite the contrary," Shaun began, offering the popcorn to Malik, who took some with a small nod of thanks. "It allows us to train them even more and push them well passed their limits."

"Like the SpyKids movie we watched, only cooler." Desmond rested his head on Shaun's shoulder.

Ezio shoved the plastic thing into his hands. "Here is your controller. I hope they have not destroyed you, as well, or else I will have to find them and kill them. For me it is one thing, but you as well?"

Altair stared at the "controller" in his hands. Malik was leaning against him, analyzing it.

"What does it control?" Malik asked.

Desmond reached out for it, and Shaun flicked a piece of popcorn at them, effectively nailing Desmond's ear.