The Forbidden
Jul. 11th, 2019 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Assassin's Creed Syndicate
Summary: Jacob comes back after another of his impulses.
Word Count: 480
Rating: Gen
“Just look at one of the newest imports from the exotic land of Japan!” he exclaims excitedly, and finally manages to shrug off every layer, and—
In black ink, on his left shoulder, there’s a bird. And beside it, on the arm, a stylized cross. Fascinated despite herself, she steps forward and touches it, expecting to feel ink on the skin, or something else—but no, it’s just skin.
“Incredible,” she mutters, and glances up to see his smug grin, only to realize that she’s accidentally said that out loud. She quirks an eyebrow. “Another of those impulses you couldn’t quite control, dear Jacob?”
“Yes, but you have to admit, it didn’t turn out that badly.” He’s going to be smug for a week. Probably nattering on about the thing, too. “They call them—” he pauses for effect, and she really can’t help but roll her eyes at her melodramatic brother, “…tattoos,” he whispers. When she doesn’t gasp or look impressed, he returns his voice to normal. “What would you get?”
“I wouldn’t,” she responds, with emphasis in case he gets more ideas in his head than he should have. “No one would ever see the thing, never mind that they’re probably not available for women.”
Her twin frowns. He’s always had a little trouble grasping the limitations for women, partly because they’re extensions of each other and partly because under the Creed there’s no real differences between the sexes anyway. One of the few things, he agrees, that the Assassins have right. “But if you did,” he insists.
This is one of those things that he’s going to continue to think about until she answers, isn’t it? She considers it seriously, setting down the book since her brother seems to have decided it’s time for a conversation. “Either a matching bird…” she begins, unsure if this is a thing he wished to distinguish himself from her, or something he wished to share with her—no matter the practicalities of the matter, which he was liable to ignore anyway, “…or the Assassin symbol.”
He grins at the first and mock grimaces at the second. “Such an obedient Assassin,” he teases, giving the tattoos an approving glance before pulling his shirt back on.
“Not according to George.” She shouldn’t, but then again, she finds a part of herself enjoying acting out after the revelation about Father.
“We’re teaching him to keep on his toes. An Assassin has to be able to improvise.” Jacob is, as expected, entirely unsympathetic, and he reaches out to squeeze her shoulder gently before wandering out again, whistling, buttoning up his vest once more.
Assassin's Creed Syndicate
Summary: Jacob comes back after another of his impulses.
Word Count: 480
Rating: Gen
Jacob is almost giddy one day when he returns, and begins undressing with no warning. He doesn’t even check that they’re alone—which they are, but it’s the principal of the thing. Evie watches with some alarm. “Jacob, what are you—”
“Just look at one of the newest imports from the exotic land of Japan!” he exclaims excitedly, and finally manages to shrug off every layer, and—
In black ink, on his left shoulder, there’s a bird. And beside it, on the arm, a stylized cross. Fascinated despite herself, she steps forward and touches it, expecting to feel ink on the skin, or something else—but no, it’s just skin.
“Incredible,” she mutters, and glances up to see his smug grin, only to realize that she’s accidentally said that out loud. She quirks an eyebrow. “Another of those impulses you couldn’t quite control, dear Jacob?”
“Yes, but you have to admit, it didn’t turn out that badly.” He’s going to be smug for a week. Probably nattering on about the thing, too. “They call them—” he pauses for effect, and she really can’t help but roll her eyes at her melodramatic brother, “…tattoos,” he whispers. When she doesn’t gasp or look impressed, he returns his voice to normal. “What would you get?”
“I wouldn’t,” she responds, with emphasis in case he gets more ideas in his head than he should have. “No one would ever see the thing, never mind that they’re probably not available for women.”
Her twin frowns. He’s always had a little trouble grasping the limitations for women, partly because they’re extensions of each other and partly because under the Creed there’s no real differences between the sexes anyway. One of the few things, he agrees, that the Assassins have right. “But if you did,” he insists.
This is one of those things that he’s going to continue to think about until she answers, isn’t it? She considers it seriously, setting down the book since her brother seems to have decided it’s time for a conversation. “Either a matching bird…” she begins, unsure if this is a thing he wished to distinguish himself from her, or something he wished to share with her—no matter the practicalities of the matter, which he was liable to ignore anyway, “…or the Assassin symbol.”
He grins at the first and mock grimaces at the second. “Such an obedient Assassin,” he teases, giving the tattoos an approving glance before pulling his shirt back on.
“Not according to George.” She shouldn’t, but then again, she finds a part of herself enjoying acting out after the revelation about Father.
“We’re teaching him to keep on his toes. An Assassin has to be able to improvise.” Jacob is, as expected, entirely unsympathetic, and he reaches out to squeeze her shoulder gently before wandering out again, whistling, buttoning up his vest once more.
