Assassin vs Predator: Dance of Killers

Started by Sabby, Nov 11, 2010, 01:53:22 PM

Author
Assassin vs Predator: Dance of Killers (Read 18,256 times)

Sabby

Francesca is an Assassin, born and sworn to the Creed. She is skilled, yes, one of the most promising of the younger Assassins, yet she has been described by colleagues as the push of the tides against an infallible sea wall, fury and power ebbing in cold, calculated force against such a calm, unshakable exterior.

Francesca has been given a very important task, the assassination of an important diplomat visiting Venice. Just as she is within reach of her target, a mysterious shimmer catches her eye, and suddenly her targets head is sliced in half.

She feels enraged and cheated, her kill stolen from her.


A young buck, No Rest, making his brood under the canals, has taken his first high priority trophy in this culture, and is eager to take another. When he does approach his next prey, a figure in white drops from the roof, killing the targets two guards and then instantly killing the man. She looks around, and her eyes meet his, with a fiery glare, satisfied and yet challenging.

Now, they both have their new quarry... they have damaged each others pride, their honour, and it can only be restored by taking their new rivals life, and a trophy. Francesca will partake of the urban dance, becoming the shadow among shadows, hoping to lose her stalkers eyes, so she might ambush him on the slate roof tops, while No Rest will wait until she is in the alleyways, or alone on the canal bridge at night, ready to take her.

predxeno

Sounds interesting.

Ghost Rider

Quote from: Sabby on Nov 11, 2010, 01:53:22 PM
Francesca is an Assassin, born and sworn to the Creed. She is skilled, yes, one of the most promising of the younger Assassins, yet she has been described by colleagues as the push of the tides against an infallible sea wall, fury and power ebbing in cold, calculated force against such a calm, unshakable exterior.

Francesca has been given a very important task, the assassination of an important diplomat visiting Venice. Just as she is within reach of her target, a mysterious shimmer catches her eye, and suddenly her targets head is sliced in half.

She feels enraged and cheated, her kill stolen from her.


A young buck, No Rest, making his brood under the canals, has taken his first high priority trophy in this culture, and is eager to take another. When he does approach his next prey, a figure in white drops from the roof, killing the targets two guards and then instantly killing the man. She looks around, and her eyes meet his, with a fiery glare, satisfied and yet challenging.

Now, they both have their new quarry... they have damaged each others pride, their honour, and it can only be restored by taking their new rivals life, and a trophy. Francesca will partake of the urban dance, becoming the shadow among shadows, hoping to lose her stalkers eyes, so she might ambush him on the slate roof tops, while No Rest will wait until she is in the alleyways, or alone on the canal bridge at night, ready to take her.
You have my attention.

Sabby

Sabby

#3
It's just an idea for now, but I'll try and have a chapter up soon :)


Chapter 1


She was so close she could taste the scent of his musk on her tongue.

While the sky was dark with clouds, the slate rooftops and green canals were brought to life with vivid colour, the crackles and pops of fireworks regularly sending the courtyard into stark view. The courtyard was as if a mirror of the sky, a plain and featureless floor given energy by the dozens that twirled and laughed, wearing all the colours one could think. Merriment and music, the smell of wine and gunpowder, the ever present stale filth of the canals for once blissfully covered, while the heat and the closeness had her uniform clinging to her skin.

Her senses were being assaulted in every way, and it only heightened her concentration... her excitement. She kept it hidden though, keeping her cool. The dancers parted for a second, and her target was visible to her, and his eyes trailed over her for a second before the crowds surged once more and stole him from view. Her stomach clenched at the eyes contact, but he didn't seem to suspect. Her Creed robes had been forgotten, instead wearing a beautiful but typical dress of light green, a mask held to her face, white and decorated with glittering little bits of tinsel, her mane of ginger hair for once let down. A paper fan was in her other hand, a new fashion that was all the rage in Venice, and yet so practical in this heat.

While her costume may have seemed rather eye catching, she was as if a fish among a school, seen, yet never noticed.

The music picked up, the peoples feet changed pace to match, and with it, her heart began to slam. Every twirling trade of partners brought her a few more steos towards him, until they were seperated by a space of barely both of her arms. She tried to look disinterested, but her light green eyes flashed, sweat forming upon her brow. And then, he passed his current woman on, and she was twirled into his arms. This, she had expected, yet she could not have helped a second of panic deep inside her stomach, her bowels clenching for nary a heart beat, before she began the steps.

Her target, Benedict Friviosa, was drunk and unshaved, though she got the impression he might have been quite the gentlemen. Manners or not, his extortion ring had poked it's head out, and all she needed to do was cut it, then make sure the body died. If it grew another head, she'd be there, waiting for it... As he tipped her back, she fanned herself, giving him a wink, and tested the Hidden Blade in her sleeve as she was pulled up into a twirl, making sure it worked, getting a feel for it, as she always did before the kill. Her fan would help add another layer of concealment, and all she needed to do was twirl to the next partner, and he would stumble to his neck woman with his life bleeding out over his top, neck severed.

She was tipped back again, and something caught her eye... a shape, standing stock still on the roof tops, like a shimmer of air. The fireworks that erupted in the sky gave the area an odd twinkle, like a fire viewed through crafted glass. But before she could concentrate, it had slipped away. She put it down to her imagination, but she felt watched... and she had always trusted her instincts. For the briefest second, her mission slipped from her mind.

The music picked up, their feet pounding the floor, the speed of their twirls increasing, her pulse racing to match, and with each step, she flicked the blade out under the fan, the swish and clack matching the hammering of the dancers. She counted down, knowing exactly when she would be passed on, twenty seconds she countered... he laughed and threw his head back, hand groping down her dress, almost to the knife belt at her hip. 10 seconds, she counted, her eyes locked on his throat.

And then, something happened.

There was a shimmer of air, just in the corner of her vision. Her body naturally tensed at the sensation of movement, and suddenly, Benedicts eyes flew open. His neck exploded outward, as if razor sharp wire had been yanked tight, severing the jugular and splattering her in his blood. The head was yanked violently upwards, and to her horror, she saw the head seem to rise up out of his body like a snake, his spine crawling out. The limb body collapsed to the floor at her feet, and the shimmer behind it regarded her... at least, she thought it did. An invisible hand caressed over the still slick spine, and a series of clicks sounded, like the hollow wooden shakers the jugglers had used.

It took a second for the screams to register, but she was paralyzed with a new sensation she had never felt before. She had touched on it's edges, but this was the first time she had felt real, true fear, locking her legs in place, keeping her hands from doing as her mind instructed. It was only when she was shoved by a fleeing woman that she was brought out of it, and the shimmer was gone.

With the crowds dispersed and the guards converged on the scene, she found her place of solace on the roof tops, where she usually went after a job was finished. But this time, she was here for another reason... for comfort, reassurance, things she hadn't quite understood. She was shaking all over, her eyes still wide and disbelieving. She looked at her hands, covered in blood, and then down to her dress. It was not like this was the first time she had ever seen blood, but never had she seen violence quite like that, and the feeling of the unseen aggressor shook her to her core.

What had she just witnessed?


Under the streets, in the reeking humid space of the canals, a dark figure worked. Strange devices rested on hand carved shelves, indentations in the walls. The broad shoulders blocked out a large segment of green tinged stone, long hair flicking now and then as he reaching out for certain items. There was a hiss, and smoke, and then Benedicts clean, bleached skull and spine were placed upon the one blank wall. His first kill... and he intended to make sure it was only the first of many.

Even from the rooftops, where Francesca made her brood, the victorious, snarling wail of the creature was heard.

Ghost Rider

Ghost Rider

#4
Not bad. I enjoyed reading that. :D

huntin8-t0n

Quite interesting, I like it :) Can I ask if you had some ideas from Assassin's creed, it hs a bit similar tone and style at some places for me, and you catch this in an excellent way.

Can I ask if it will be explained why pred is killing a diplomat? Seemingly harmless prey, but I guess it will be turned out he isn't... weren't :D

predxeno

Will there be a future timeline, you know, by the company that wants its agents to unlock their genetically inherited memories?

Sabby

Sabby

#7
Yeyinde, yes, this is part of the Assassin's Creed games. It takes place in AC2 era Venice. And Benedict is the leader of a violent crime ring. No Rest, the Predator, wanted his first trophy to be someone of importance, so surveyed the prey of Venice, and naturally followed the chain of command up to him.

Predxeno, I never thought of that one... that's definitely something I could work on :) Perhaps the Templar's aren't as big as they'd like Desmond to think, a small but advanced group that couldn't hope to contend with Weyland-Yutani. WY uses an Animus to search history for Predator or Alien incidents and technology... yes, I've got some thinking to do.


Chapter 2

Lidia jerked as if waking from a nightmare, the kind that didn't throw you awake, but caused a moment of confusion, as the dream world and the real one slowly separated. Slowly, she sat up, swinging her legs over to perch on the edge of the Animus.

She was a spitting image of her ancestor, a thin and athletic woman, tall and with eyes the shade of faded dollar bills. Hair like fire threaded into wool hung down between her shoulder blades, slightly wavy. She shrugged her white hoody close, hugging her shoulders, shivering from more then just the air conditioning. The memory of Francesca's encounter was fresh in her mind, and she swore she could feel the warmth of Benedicts blood on her chest.

The Animus machine didn't match the room she was in. While it was sleek and white, the building was dull, dark and grey, square and almost blocky, like it came from a box and unfolded, constructed with ease. This was not just an impression. The words "Weyland-Yutani" were painted white across the grey metal wall, next to a clear observation window.

"Didja get all of that? Because I'm not f**king going back in if I don't have to..." Her course voice went quiet with the last few words and she suppressed a shudder, pushing up onto her feet and rubbing her arms. "Where's my smokes? I need a f**king smoke"

She was shaken, restless, the adrenaline and fear of Francesca bleeding over, lingering, causing her to pace and fidget. It usually took a moment or two for her to separate, but this time was worse. She could feel that monsters eyes on her, and it refused to leave for a few tense moments, in which she barked for her cigarette's again.

One of the white robed scientists came in with a metal tray, which contained a bowl of hot stew and bottled water, but she snatched up the cigarette's and Zippo from the tray, almost tearing the top off and pulling out one crumpled stick, cupping the flame as she lit it.

"Don't worry Sargent Dallas, we got everything. You should be fine to rest today" She relaxed, drawing on the cigarette and pushing back up to sit on the Animus, taking the tray and shooting the scientist an apologetic look, but there was a hint of a glare there, and he took the hint and left quickly.

"How many times we gotta do this before you start calling me Lidia?" She breathed, draining the bowel quickly, not caring for table manners. She was ravenous after her Animus sessions usually, and though her dehydration paled in comparison to her hunger, she drained the bottle just as quickly.

"So when are you guna tell me what the f**k I just saw in there? Is this what you dragged me from my Platoon for? That thing?"

The three scientists at the other end of the glass exchanged glances. "Ms Dallas, perhaps you should head to the rec room-" She slammed her tray on the Animus next to her hip, the bowl and bottle clattering to the ground loudly, silencing them.

"No, f**k you! I don't wanna watch any of your calming movies and play tennis, I want some f**king answers! What the f**k was that thing?!" She seethed, and after a few moments of stunned silence, she backed down, feeling quite embarrassed.

"S-sorry... I'm a little shaky at the moment..." She rubbed her arms, the shudder returning. "We understand Ms Dallas, the effects of the Animus sessions can take some getting used to. You've seen the reports on the earlier sessions, so we want to take it slow, make sure you don't get any of those negative effects"

"It's Lidia..." She breathed, not quite a growl, but with the same irritated edge to it. "I-I need to lay down... are we done? Can I go?" She fumbled about for a new cigarette and tried to cup the flame, even though there was no breeze in this still room. It was a nervous tick of hers.


"Are we done? Can I go?" The voice echoed, distorted, repeating several times, changing it's pitch and tone. The viewing modes changed, and a targeting reticle rushed through the multitude of buildings on the secluded colony, singling out the Animus Chamber. A red figure sat on the cool blue and green of the Animus, a small prick of red in it's heart, fading as the machine powered down.

"Are we d-d-done yet... Can I go?. It's Lidia. Start calling me Lidia" The Predator perched on the top of the guard tower, arm resting on his thick knee, growling, marking the woman in his visor, and the three in the observation room. He reached up to touch under his eye, where two long self inflicted marks crossed down his temple to his chin. It was the mark of his mission, his promise...

Growling, he stood and activated his cloak, clawed fingers tapping at the device on his arm, and then all that was left of him was the lingering clicking. Lidia shuddered once more, but this time, it had nothing to do with the Animus.

Gate

So Weyland Yutani bought up the Animus project from Abstergo? Holy shit... I must keep myself updated on this. Im writing a crossover between Altair and a predator hunting for Templars some time after the first game's events, but I think you've outdone me.

Sabby

Yeah, kind of drawing a 'Just Because' on that one ^^' Abstergo and Weyland-Utani have a good chunk of time between them, and that period is pretty vague, so it's easy enough to pass off. I'm torn whether or not I should include Xenomorph's though :/

huntin8-t0n

I love this thread!!! Shabby, keep up the good work, please ;D

Sabby

Thank you everyone ^^ I'm glad your enjoying it so far. Will try not to disappoint.

The Alien Predator

Darn this is so cool, I'v been waiting for a story featuring Predators and the Assassins, I think you nailed it perfectly  :)

Awesome summary and first chapter, nice twist at the end too lol you caught my interest, I'm gonna keep myself updated please keep up the good work  ;D

Ghost Rider

Quote from: Sabby on Nov 13, 2010, 06:02:52 AM
Chapter 2

Lidia jerked as if waking from a nightmare, the kind that didn't throw you awake, but caused a moment of confusion, as the dream world and the real one slowly separated. Slowly, she sat up, swinging her legs over to perch on the edge of the Animus.

She was a spitting image of her ancestor, a thin and athletic woman, tall and with eyes the shade of faded dollar bills. Hair like fire threaded into wool hung down between her shoulder blades, slightly wavy. She shrugged her white hoody close, hugging her shoulders, shivering from more then just the air conditioning. The memory of Francesca's encounter was fresh in her mind, and she swore she could feel the warmth of Benedicts blood on her chest.

The Animus machine didn't match the room she was in. While it was sleek and white, the building was dull, dark and grey, square and almost blocky, like it came from a box and unfolded, constructed with ease. This was not just an impression. The words "Weyland-Yutani" were painted white across the grey metal wall, next to a clear observation window.

"Didja get all of that? Because I'm not f**king going back in if I don't have to..." Her course voice went quiet with the last few words and she suppressed a shudder, pushing up onto her feet and rubbing her arms. "Where's my smokes? I need a f**king smoke"

She was shaken, restless, the adrenaline and fear of Francesca bleeding over, lingering, causing her to pace and fidget. It usually took a moment or two for her to separate, but this time was worse. She could feel that monsters eyes on her, and it refused to leave for a few tense moments, in which she barked for her cigarette's again.

One of the white robed scientists came in with a metal tray, which contained a bowl of hot stew and bottled water, but she snatched up the cigarette's and Zippo from the tray, almost tearing the top off and pulling out one crumpled stick, cupping the flame as she lit it.

"Don't worry Sargent Dallas, we got everything. You should be fine to rest today" She relaxed, drawing on the cigarette and pushing back up to sit on the Animus, taking the tray and shooting the scientist an apologetic look, but there was a hint of a glare there, and he took the hint and left quickly.

"How many times we gotta do this before you start calling me Lidia?" She breathed, draining the bowel quickly, not caring for table manners. She was ravenous after her Animus sessions usually, and though her dehydration paled in comparison to her hunger, she drained the bottle just as quickly.

"So when are you guna tell me what the f**k I just saw in there? Is this what you dragged me from my Platoon for? That thing?"

The three scientists at the other end of the glass exchanged glances. "Ms Dallas, perhaps you should head to the rec room-" She slammed her tray on the Animus next to her hip, the bowl and bottle clattering to the ground loudly, silencing them.

"No, f**k you! I don't wanna watch any of your calming movies and play tennis, I want some f**king answers! What the f**k was that thing?!" She seethed, and after a few moments of stunned silence, she backed down, feeling quite embarrassed.

"S-sorry... I'm a little shaky at the moment..." She rubbed her arms, the shudder returning. "We understand Ms Dallas, the effects of the Animus sessions can take some getting used to. You've seen the reports on the earlier sessions, so we want to take it slow, make sure you don't get any of those negative effects"

"It's Lidia..." She breathed, not quite a growl, but with the same irritated edge to it. "I-I need to lay down... are we done? Can I go?" She fumbled about for a new cigarette and tried to cup the flame, even though there was no breeze in this still room. It was a nervous tick of hers.


"Are we done? Can I go?" The voice echoed, distorted, repeating several times, changing it's pitch and tone. The viewing modes changed, and a targeting reticle rushed through the multitude of buildings on the secluded colony, singling out the Animus Chamber. A red figure sat on the cool blue and green of the Animus, a small prick of red in it's heart, fading as the machine powered down.

"Are we d-d-done yet... Can I go?. It's Lidia. Start calling me Lidia" The Predator perched on the top of the guard tower, arm resting on his thick knee, growling, marking the woman in his visor, and the three in the observation room. He reached up to touch under his eye, where two long self inflicted marks crossed down his temple to his chin. It was the mark of his mission, his promise...

Growling, he stood and activated his cloak, clawed fingers tapping at the device on his arm, and then all that was left of him was the lingering clicking. Lidia shuddered once more, but this time, it had nothing to do with the Animus.

Excellent. :D

Gate

Do you intend on making Mr. Weyland a Templar?  ;D

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