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Entry tags:
[ac/at] --
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Assassin's Creed/Adventure Time
Notes: Some silly headcanons, particularly concerning the PoEs and what's inside of them.
Summary: Malik wrecks the world; Kadar saves it. Nothing happens.
The last thing Kadar remembers is slumping next to Malik, falling to the ground as the wound in his stomach becomes strangely less painful. The artifact is in his hand, but it is starting to slip so he gasps and slurs for Malik to take it.
“No. No,” Malik answers, repeating the word as if it could stop Kadar from bleeding out.
It is odd seeing his brother so irrational and panicked, Kadar thinks, using the last of his strength to thrust the sphere against Malik’s closed fist. And, deep down, he knows that it ought to have been his final thought because he cannot breathe, and his eyes are closing against his will, and, and-
Kadar clings on to a bright yellow window sill, legs scrambling for purchase as he attempts to push himself up. The wall is stained with his own blood, but he can hear his brother’s voice on the other side and, amazingly, he drags himself over.
The room inside is the same color as the window; solid yellow from floor to ceiling, save for a wide pink stripe on the floor. It is unnervingly devoid of anything except for his brother, who has his back turned to Kadar, and who is yelling at the wall.
“I wish my brother was not dying! I wish for Kadar to not be dead!” Malik shouts, sounding desperate. His left arm is soaked with blood. His voice cracks with pain.
Something in front of Malik shifts. Kadar sees the strip of pink move, and then Malik is gone. Disappears before Kadar could say anything.
There is a crude drawing of a figure on the wall Malik had shouted at.
“Hey there,” says the drawing. Or, rather, a shadow, which is the only way Kadar could describe it – if shadows were pink and similarly blue-eyed and had the ability to speak.
Kadar croaks out something that even he cannot decipher and it takes several moments for the pink figure to calm him, speaking in amiable tones until Kadar begins to understand the minimal details of his highly unusual situation. He eventually learns that the figure on the wall is named Prismo, and that he grants wishes, and that he is a very powerful being who makes an excellent sandwich.
“Got the recipe from a real cool dog,” Prismo says with a wink.
And, because Prismo likes to watch his TV over lunch, Kadar also learns that in Malik’s new timeline, he is alive but Altair is dead.
“Oh.” Kadar blinks at the moving images on the side wall. He watches, silent for a long, long while.
“Yeah, you’d be surprised how crazy mad it gets in the next thousand years. Totally wacko,” Prismo says with detached interest, almost fond. He glances down at Kadar and his simplistic pink features turn bashful and embarrassed. He gently adds to Kadar’s stricken face, “Oh, dude, it’s not your fault. Your universes have always been super hard to manage.”
Kadar purses his lips, looks down at the sandwich Prismo has made him. “Then is my brother to blame?”
“Well,” Prismo says. “It’s his timeline. But you do have a whole wish for yourself, you know.”
“Malik is usually not like that,” Kadar says, defensive even if he knows Prismo would likely understand. He winces as he hears the shouting and violent noises from the side wall. “He is normally more thoughtful. Less irrational. Less panicked. He did not mean for his wish to-”
“Save his little bro?” Prismo interrupts, poking at his device to mute the sounds. “Hey man, it’s cool. I totally get it, even if he was a little rude and hasty about it. You got an awesome big brother.”
Kadar brings himself to smile. But my brother did not mean for his wish to cause the end of the world, he wants to correct, but he assumes Prismo knows that as well.
“With your permission, I would like to finish my sandwich before I make my wish,” he says instead.
Prismo tilts his head. “Sure. You’re a real cool dude, Kadar.”
“A fine compliment, I think,” Kadar says, sitting on the chair Prismo conjured up for him. “You as well.”
Prismo giggles. “Hey, you wanna see what happens at the end of your timeline?"
"Is that allowed?" Kadar asks over a mouthful of sandwich, but Prismo shrugs.
"S'real good, I promise,” he answers with a grin, and changes the channel.
Fandoms: Assassin's Creed/Adventure Time
Notes: Some silly headcanons, particularly concerning the PoEs and what's inside of them.
Summary: Malik wrecks the world; Kadar saves it. Nothing happens.
The last thing Kadar remembers is slumping next to Malik, falling to the ground as the wound in his stomach becomes strangely less painful. The artifact is in his hand, but it is starting to slip so he gasps and slurs for Malik to take it.
“No. No,” Malik answers, repeating the word as if it could stop Kadar from bleeding out.
It is odd seeing his brother so irrational and panicked, Kadar thinks, using the last of his strength to thrust the sphere against Malik’s closed fist. And, deep down, he knows that it ought to have been his final thought because he cannot breathe, and his eyes are closing against his will, and, and-
Kadar clings on to a bright yellow window sill, legs scrambling for purchase as he attempts to push himself up. The wall is stained with his own blood, but he can hear his brother’s voice on the other side and, amazingly, he drags himself over.
The room inside is the same color as the window; solid yellow from floor to ceiling, save for a wide pink stripe on the floor. It is unnervingly devoid of anything except for his brother, who has his back turned to Kadar, and who is yelling at the wall.
“I wish my brother was not dying! I wish for Kadar to not be dead!” Malik shouts, sounding desperate. His left arm is soaked with blood. His voice cracks with pain.
Something in front of Malik shifts. Kadar sees the strip of pink move, and then Malik is gone. Disappears before Kadar could say anything.
There is a crude drawing of a figure on the wall Malik had shouted at.
“Hey there,” says the drawing. Or, rather, a shadow, which is the only way Kadar could describe it – if shadows were pink and similarly blue-eyed and had the ability to speak.
Kadar croaks out something that even he cannot decipher and it takes several moments for the pink figure to calm him, speaking in amiable tones until Kadar begins to understand the minimal details of his highly unusual situation. He eventually learns that the figure on the wall is named Prismo, and that he grants wishes, and that he is a very powerful being who makes an excellent sandwich.
“Got the recipe from a real cool dog,” Prismo says with a wink.
And, because Prismo likes to watch his TV over lunch, Kadar also learns that in Malik’s new timeline, he is alive but Altair is dead.
“Oh.” Kadar blinks at the moving images on the side wall. He watches, silent for a long, long while.
“Yeah, you’d be surprised how crazy mad it gets in the next thousand years. Totally wacko,” Prismo says with detached interest, almost fond. He glances down at Kadar and his simplistic pink features turn bashful and embarrassed. He gently adds to Kadar’s stricken face, “Oh, dude, it’s not your fault. Your universes have always been super hard to manage.”
Kadar purses his lips, looks down at the sandwich Prismo has made him. “Then is my brother to blame?”
“Well,” Prismo says. “It’s his timeline. But you do have a whole wish for yourself, you know.”
“Malik is usually not like that,” Kadar says, defensive even if he knows Prismo would likely understand. He winces as he hears the shouting and violent noises from the side wall. “He is normally more thoughtful. Less irrational. Less panicked. He did not mean for his wish to-”
“Save his little bro?” Prismo interrupts, poking at his device to mute the sounds. “Hey man, it’s cool. I totally get it, even if he was a little rude and hasty about it. You got an awesome big brother.”
Kadar brings himself to smile. But my brother did not mean for his wish to cause the end of the world, he wants to correct, but he assumes Prismo knows that as well.
“With your permission, I would like to finish my sandwich before I make my wish,” he says instead.
Prismo tilts his head. “Sure. You’re a real cool dude, Kadar.”
“A fine compliment, I think,” Kadar says, sitting on the chair Prismo conjured up for him. “You as well.”
Prismo giggles. “Hey, you wanna see what happens at the end of your timeline?"
"Is that allowed?" Kadar asks over a mouthful of sandwich, but Prismo shrugs.
"S'real good, I promise,” he answers with a grin, and changes the channel.