icedark_elf: (AC-Leo-How Fascinating)
([personal profile] icedark_elf Dec. 29th, 2012 10:58 am)
Title: Not Many But One
Author: Katrina
Beta: None, point out any mistakes
Fandom: Assassin's Creed
Challenge: [community profile] daily_prompt/750 Words
Series: None
Characters: Ezio, Leonardo
Words: 837
Rating: PG

Summary: Ezio knows who he can count on, and sometimes he just needs one.

Not Many But One AO3 Link




It was not his mind that took him this path. No, his mind was too busy trying to keep himself upright, trying to ignore how much he truly wanted to fall over.

The two guards he had known was up there. Their four friends, however, had been a surprise. They had been playing an unusually quiet game of dice, though that had ended quick enough. Ezio had dealt with two simply because he had to in order to get away, then ran.

He wasn't tracking a target, and had only been out investigating a few things. Plus, he had been bored sitting around and trying to piece together the next step of the trail of betrayal he was following ever upwards. So fleeing was the best option.

It might have worked better if one of the guards had not been such a good shot with a crossbow. If Ezio had seen that weapon, he'd have grabbed it before making a run for it.

The flight had only lasted a bit before he lost them, though he could still hear them shouting to each other in the distance, calling in other guards to help them look. Coming down off the rooftops, a painful shift draping his cape over where the bolt was still protruding, and Ezio started making his way towards help.

It was a long walk, and it hurt to do anything, with the bolt in just the right spot that even walking tugged the muscles around it, making flares of pain an almost constant throb in his back. So he looked a bit like a drunkard, swaying as he did, trying to mute the pain, but it was numbing in more than one way.

His feet knew where to go, though, and they took him there without much control from his mind, and he soon found himself staring at a familiar door. A very familiar door, and a familiar voice call out they would be there in just a moment when he had knocked on said door.

Leonardo blinked, then smiled broadly at Ezio. "Hello, my friend!"

Seeing his friend's pleased, then startled face made Ezio smile, and he was swept into the room and settled down. The action made him grit his teeth, but then he was seated, carefully, on a chair that was turned around so he was facing the back of it, keeping the bolt from being jarred even more.

Sometimes, Ezio forgot just how -strong- Leonardo was, even though he knew the man dealt with a variety of bulky and surprisingly heavy projects. He still remembered helping carrying that box of art from Leonardo's shop to Ezio's family home. That box had been heavy, and once they had arrived, Leo had taking it with one arm and followed Maria with no issues.

So it was no surprise that he was able to move Ezio so easily. The younger just tried to relax in the chair, hissing some as even that jarred the bolt. He was also starting to get a faint grey ring around his vision. So there was blood, but not as much as he feared. The bolt was deep, something Ezio could feel far too well, and he let his eyes drift shut as he listened to Leonardo move around the shop, gathering up supplies and muttering to himself.

Leonardo, who was one of the few people Ezio knew from -before-, even if it was just the smallest of meetings, who was not family and who was still willing to talk with him. He was the only one who had not put great expectations on Ezio as well. He did not expect Ezio to step into his father's footsteps and was happy to be Ezio's friend for the sake of being Ezio's friend. There were none of the ghosts hanging over Leonardo that the others had, and really the most Leonardo seemed to ask for was the chance to break the code of the Codex.

"Here, my friend, drink this." It was a strong tea, and Ezio was grateful to have something to drink. "I can get the bolt out, but it will not be pleasant, and you will have to rest afterwards." There was a soft laugh, and Ezio eyed the other man. "Even if it means I have to bind your limbs and leave you on the bed."

The words were in a joking tone, but there was a serious look in Leo's eyes that Ezio decided he did not want to challenge. Of course, he could take his friend in a fight, but only if he was willing to hurt him, and that was something that Ezio did -not- want to do.

Leonardo was a touchstone for him. One person, in all of the people that Ezio knew, who did not expect him to be anything other than what he was, who did not expect him to do anything.

And if the cost of that was being fussed over, well, Ezio was willing to pay that cost.



Title: Playgrounds
Author: Katrina
Beta: None, point out any mistakes
Fandom: Rise of the Guardians
Challenge: [community profile] daily_prompt
Series: None
Characters: Jack Frost
Words: 685
Rating: PG

Summary: Jack Frost thinks about what playgrounds are and what they mean to spirits like him.

Playgrounds AO3 Link




In a way, playgrounds were always the same. At least, to Jack Frost, they seemed that way. They were always the same, and that was why he was always drawn to them.

Oh, yeah, he knew that some had way more stuff on them than others did. He had seen playgrounds with forts and treehouses and amazing swingsets. He had also seen playgrounds that were nothing more than a hilly piece of ground with trash.

Not every place that called itself a playground was one, though. Given what his core was, Jack knew that better than most. Some of those places that called themselves playgrounds held no fun, they had no joy or hope or wonder in them as well, so he doubted the others thought of them as playgrounds, either. They had been taken over by people who had grown up, who had stopped believing, sometimes even as children they had lost that faith younger than most.

Those playgrounds were more the domain of Pitch and others like him. Jack knew that there were other spirits out there who preyed on those who feared or worried and the like, but he thought that, maybe, they were as much a creation of the Man in the Moon as he was. So they would have as much right to live as he and the others. And while he was the Guardian who dealt with Fun for children, well....

Not everyone was children. And Jack had learned how to keep himself charged over the years. Not all of the spirits created by Manny were ones who thrived, and Jack had known immortals over the years who had simply faded away. The fact he hadn't said a lot, even if it had been a lonely existence. So Jack had learned to keep himself energized on a lot of things, and the cold had so many stories tied to it.

Still, he had always been drawn most to playgrounds. True ones, not just those places humans decided to name such. Places where children came together, over and over and over, and played. The games did not matter, as just as often, they would find Easter eggs left there after the main places had been hunted through, as Bunnymund was drawn to those places as well, and North always left little presents around, even if they weren't as obvious as his gifts in the homes. But they were gifts none the less, and Jack knew he had seen others poke around here and there. The little ones that followed Tooth around, Sandy's golden sand dusting over kids here and there as they napped in the sun.

All of the Guardians were drawn to these places. And a lot of spirits who were not Guardians as well. Such as ones like Jack, ones who were draw to these places like flowers to the sun. It fed them, gave them energy, gave them enough to keep going. For the Guardians, all the belief in them made them strong, made them able to do more to both spread that belief and to protect those who did belief in them.

In a way, it was a cycle. The more children believed in a spirit, the stronger it got, and the stronger it got, the more it could promote belief in itself. For little spirits, like Jack had been(and even if he was a Guardian now, and had a few believers, Jack was still a little spirit, with only a handful of those who believed in him), the glow from playgrounds drew them in and kept them going.

For Jack, it was easier because of the fact that you put snow down on a playground, and you were going to get a lot of happy kids throwing it at each other. Some a bit more maliciously than others, but it was fun in their mind, which is what Jack needed.

Playgrounds were special places, and the part that made a playground a playground was not the items or location, it was the children who had fun on it.

And Jack -loved- children having fun.
.

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