Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Mind Games and Coffee ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Solaras 
It all begins with a normal day.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.25.2004 | Updated On: 06.27.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 1.4K | Status: Work In Progress
It all begins with a normal day.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.25.2004 | Updated On: 06.27.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 1.4K | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz is not mine.All its characters and affiliates are also not mine.
Author’s notes:Hey everyone.I’m glad you decided to check out my story.This is the first Weiss Kreuz fic I have written.It is also the first yaoi fic.It will be a Brad and Schuldig story. Hopefully it will turn out ok.Enjoy
~telepathy~ aka communicating
/thoughts/aka Schuldig reading someone’s mind
Mind Games and Coffee
Chapter One – Breakfast
The sun filters softly through an open window, as the pale curtains sway lightly in the quiet morning hour.Only this early in the day is the four bedroom apartment so quiet. The continuously typing fingers currently clutch a pillow, the blasphemous mouth sucks absently on a blade between snores, and the German rock cds have been taped to the ceiling.The only sound to be heard is the brewing of a coffee pot. Only Brad Crawford is ever awake at 7:30 in the morning, unless a job requires otherwise.Today there is no reason for the assassin team known as Schwarz to be awake, so Crawford is allowed to enjoy the rare peace and quiet.
The clairvoyant closes his window, left open during the summer night, and leaves his bedroom. The only light in the hallway comes from his open door.The sun spills across the hall into the half open door of the resident telepath, Schuldig.As long as Crawford has known the German, Schuldig has never slept with his door closed. Speculation has led Crawford to believe it has something to do with the telepath’s hatred of being alone.If the door is closed then he is shut in, alone, but if the door is open then his room connects to others or something like that.
When Crawford first started working with Mastermind, Schuldig confessed a dislike of solitude because then he was left with the swirling chaos in his head.The telepath sometimes becomes so lost within the voices, that he has to be knocked out with medication.An out of control ‘gift’ is not pleasant, especially when your mind is at stake.Also enclosed spaces probably bring back bad memories from the German’s childhood. Schuldig was often locked in a closet by fearful parents before running away.
He did God knows what to survive before being picked up by Rosenkreuz officials, who quickly found that solitary confinement was very effective against the defiant young telepath.Either way, somewhere along the years Crawford started leaving his door cracked.Schuldig seemed to sleep easier, which meant that Crawford got peace to sleep as well; all and all a practical arrangement in the clairvoyant’s mind.
Now Brad Crawford stood in the early morning hour as the sun spilled upon the sprawled form of his teammate. Schuldig slept on his stomach with his long limbs stretched out in every direction, his face turned towards the door.Long fiery hair fell over closed eyes, and one overly long lock shifted with every soft breath. Every now and then he would mutter something in one language or another, obviously someone else’s thoughts.Often the telepath would wake disoriented about his location, and sometimes speaking languages he had never studied.What concerned Crawford the most, though he would never admit it, was when Schuldig would wake confused about his identity. After about ten minutes Schuldig reorients himself, but Crawford wonders if one day Schuldig will succumb to his gift.He wouldn’t be the first telepath to do so.So far there have been no visions to predict such a day.
Crawford moves on to the kitchen where his coffee lays waiting.A quick survey of the cabinet reveals only one clean mug, Schuldig’s bright orange coffee mug with ‘Chaos, panic, disorder…My job is done’ written in bold yellow letters. Frowning slightly Crawford pulls his white mug from yesterday out of the dishwasher and rinses it out.As he pours his coffee he makes a note to have Nagi start the dishwasher after breakfast.Coffee in hand, Crawford sits down at the table, and picks up the newspaper.Soon Nagi will rise and start breakfast, after which he will unlock Farfarello’s door, who may or may not come out for breakfast. Schuldig may be roused by the smell of food, or he may ignore it in favor of sleep, in which case he will sleep well past noon. Pausing in sipping his coffee, Brad sees that Schuldig will be up for breakfast, which means he will make himself a nuisance for a better part of the day.
About halfway through his paper, Crawford becomes aware of Nagi shuffling about. The boy arrives in the kitchen shortly after, nodding to Crawford before pulling out a frying pan.Soon the smell of sausages and eggs fills the kitchen and hallway, this as Brad predicted, is followed by a few loud Spanish exclamations about the price of figs.Apparently Schuldig’s mind had wandered into a marketplace last night.Nagi looks up briefly at the commotion, while Brad continues to read the paper. The telekinetic is putting more sausage into the pan, when a rumpled Schuldig plops himself at the table, giving a loud yawn and thorough stretch to announce his presence. He runs his fingers through his hair trying to tame the wild mass.
“Hola, Buenos Dias,” states Nagi before setting a plate in front of the telepath.
“Huh?”
Nagi just shakes his head at Schuldig’s brilliant reply, then goes to fetch Farfarello. Schuldig shrugs then sniffs at his breakfast, before poking the eggs with his fork.At least the food was western for a change, the German was getting tired of miso soup, and he was pretty sure he was turning into a block of tofu. He looked up at Nagi’s return and the madman following him.The Irish psychopath was fully dressed along with a few new bandages.Farfarello took his seat across from Schuldig and started maliciously slicing his sausage. Schuldig munched contently on his non-tofu breakfast and casually brushed against the minds nearby.A few complaints about bills, someone late for work, a small kitchen fire, Nagi thinking about Tot, Farf thinking about killing Tot, and Crawford’s ever present shields.It annoyed Schuldig to no end that he couldn’t read the clairvoyant.The redhead’s fork scraped his plate, bringing him back to reality to realize he was out of food. He glanced at Crawford, still sipping his coffee and reading, occasionally reaching around to stab a piece of sausage with his fork; his plate still full.
“Don’t even think about it,” Crawford said while turning a page.
“But Brad, it’s just going to get cold,” Schuldig whined in return.
“No.You eat to much as it is.”
Schuldig huffed and slouched in his seat.Farfarello after sufficiently mutilating his breakfast sat staring at the telepath.
“What?” the German asked.
“Gluttony hurts God.”
“Yes, I’m sure if there is a God, he really cares how much I eat,” sneered Schuldig, now busy balancing his chair on the back legs.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Brad offered in between sips of coffee.
“Like you really care if I have good posture,” the redhead said waving off the comment. Crawford, now on the last page of the paper, folded it setting it beside his plate, so that he could finish reading and eat at the same time.
“All sins hurt God.”
“Really Farf,” drawled Schuldig, “I still don’t think that the ‘God’ cares if I eat too much. He would probably be happy if I died of clogged arteries.”
“God does not wish suffering, but your death would not hurt God.”
“Nice to know, I’m sure.Nagi are you going to eat that sausage link?”
“Yes Schuldig,” replied Nagi with a glare.
“Are you sure?” he asked again edging his fork towards the piece of meat.
“You can’t have it.”
“Come on, you still have anoth….”
He never got to finish, as Farfarello jumped out of his seat to lean across the table, slamming his knife down in front of him! The force of the blow shook the table and caused Schuldig to fall backwards, knocking his head on the tile.Farfarello’s one golden eye glared down at the sprawled German.
“It is why I do not kill you, Guilty one.” With that the Berserker pulled the knife from the table and stuck it between his teeth.He then retreated down the hall.Schuldig, from his place on the floor, stared after his teammate.
“Shit!”Schuldig laughed as he picked himself off the floor.After righting his chair he sat holding his head gingerly.“I should know by now not to make comments about God.”He continued his nasal laughter as he left in search of pain killers.After loading the dishwasher, Nagi went to the refuge of his computer, leaving Crawford alone again in the kitchen.
“Nagi!” Schuldig yelled down the hall, “I want my cds back now!”
“You play them too loud!”
“Blasphemous music hurts God!”
“Nagi!”
“Do you even know what headphones are?!”
“Music will fuel the hate, and God will cry!”
“You put them on the fuck'n ceiling!”
“Don’t you have someone’s life to screw up or something?!”
“Why when I can just screw you!”
“Sodomy hurts God!”
Alone in the kitchen again, but Brad Crawford had anything but peace and quiet.
*Well that’s all for the first chapter.Hopefully I will get the next chapter out soon.I’m not sure how long this will be yet.Reviews are welcome and appreciated.See ya next chapter.
Author’s notes:Hey everyone.I’m glad you decided to check out my story.This is the first Weiss Kreuz fic I have written.It is also the first yaoi fic.It will be a Brad and Schuldig story. Hopefully it will turn out ok.Enjoy
~telepathy~ aka communicating
/thoughts/aka Schuldig reading someone’s mind
Mind Games and Coffee
Chapter One – Breakfast
The sun filters softly through an open window, as the pale curtains sway lightly in the quiet morning hour.Only this early in the day is the four bedroom apartment so quiet. The continuously typing fingers currently clutch a pillow, the blasphemous mouth sucks absently on a blade between snores, and the German rock cds have been taped to the ceiling.The only sound to be heard is the brewing of a coffee pot. Only Brad Crawford is ever awake at 7:30 in the morning, unless a job requires otherwise.Today there is no reason for the assassin team known as Schwarz to be awake, so Crawford is allowed to enjoy the rare peace and quiet.
The clairvoyant closes his window, left open during the summer night, and leaves his bedroom. The only light in the hallway comes from his open door.The sun spills across the hall into the half open door of the resident telepath, Schuldig.As long as Crawford has known the German, Schuldig has never slept with his door closed. Speculation has led Crawford to believe it has something to do with the telepath’s hatred of being alone.If the door is closed then he is shut in, alone, but if the door is open then his room connects to others or something like that.
When Crawford first started working with Mastermind, Schuldig confessed a dislike of solitude because then he was left with the swirling chaos in his head.The telepath sometimes becomes so lost within the voices, that he has to be knocked out with medication.An out of control ‘gift’ is not pleasant, especially when your mind is at stake.Also enclosed spaces probably bring back bad memories from the German’s childhood. Schuldig was often locked in a closet by fearful parents before running away.
He did God knows what to survive before being picked up by Rosenkreuz officials, who quickly found that solitary confinement was very effective against the defiant young telepath.Either way, somewhere along the years Crawford started leaving his door cracked.Schuldig seemed to sleep easier, which meant that Crawford got peace to sleep as well; all and all a practical arrangement in the clairvoyant’s mind.
Now Brad Crawford stood in the early morning hour as the sun spilled upon the sprawled form of his teammate. Schuldig slept on his stomach with his long limbs stretched out in every direction, his face turned towards the door.Long fiery hair fell over closed eyes, and one overly long lock shifted with every soft breath. Every now and then he would mutter something in one language or another, obviously someone else’s thoughts.Often the telepath would wake disoriented about his location, and sometimes speaking languages he had never studied.What concerned Crawford the most, though he would never admit it, was when Schuldig would wake confused about his identity. After about ten minutes Schuldig reorients himself, but Crawford wonders if one day Schuldig will succumb to his gift.He wouldn’t be the first telepath to do so.So far there have been no visions to predict such a day.
Crawford moves on to the kitchen where his coffee lays waiting.A quick survey of the cabinet reveals only one clean mug, Schuldig’s bright orange coffee mug with ‘Chaos, panic, disorder…My job is done’ written in bold yellow letters. Frowning slightly Crawford pulls his white mug from yesterday out of the dishwasher and rinses it out.As he pours his coffee he makes a note to have Nagi start the dishwasher after breakfast.Coffee in hand, Crawford sits down at the table, and picks up the newspaper.Soon Nagi will rise and start breakfast, after which he will unlock Farfarello’s door, who may or may not come out for breakfast. Schuldig may be roused by the smell of food, or he may ignore it in favor of sleep, in which case he will sleep well past noon. Pausing in sipping his coffee, Brad sees that Schuldig will be up for breakfast, which means he will make himself a nuisance for a better part of the day.
About halfway through his paper, Crawford becomes aware of Nagi shuffling about. The boy arrives in the kitchen shortly after, nodding to Crawford before pulling out a frying pan.Soon the smell of sausages and eggs fills the kitchen and hallway, this as Brad predicted, is followed by a few loud Spanish exclamations about the price of figs.Apparently Schuldig’s mind had wandered into a marketplace last night.Nagi looks up briefly at the commotion, while Brad continues to read the paper. The telekinetic is putting more sausage into the pan, when a rumpled Schuldig plops himself at the table, giving a loud yawn and thorough stretch to announce his presence. He runs his fingers through his hair trying to tame the wild mass.
“Hola, Buenos Dias,” states Nagi before setting a plate in front of the telepath.
“Huh?”
Nagi just shakes his head at Schuldig’s brilliant reply, then goes to fetch Farfarello. Schuldig shrugs then sniffs at his breakfast, before poking the eggs with his fork.At least the food was western for a change, the German was getting tired of miso soup, and he was pretty sure he was turning into a block of tofu. He looked up at Nagi’s return and the madman following him.The Irish psychopath was fully dressed along with a few new bandages.Farfarello took his seat across from Schuldig and started maliciously slicing his sausage. Schuldig munched contently on his non-tofu breakfast and casually brushed against the minds nearby.A few complaints about bills, someone late for work, a small kitchen fire, Nagi thinking about Tot, Farf thinking about killing Tot, and Crawford’s ever present shields.It annoyed Schuldig to no end that he couldn’t read the clairvoyant.The redhead’s fork scraped his plate, bringing him back to reality to realize he was out of food. He glanced at Crawford, still sipping his coffee and reading, occasionally reaching around to stab a piece of sausage with his fork; his plate still full.
“Don’t even think about it,” Crawford said while turning a page.
“But Brad, it’s just going to get cold,” Schuldig whined in return.
“No.You eat to much as it is.”
Schuldig huffed and slouched in his seat.Farfarello after sufficiently mutilating his breakfast sat staring at the telepath.
“What?” the German asked.
“Gluttony hurts God.”
“Yes, I’m sure if there is a God, he really cares how much I eat,” sneered Schuldig, now busy balancing his chair on the back legs.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Brad offered in between sips of coffee.
“Like you really care if I have good posture,” the redhead said waving off the comment. Crawford, now on the last page of the paper, folded it setting it beside his plate, so that he could finish reading and eat at the same time.
“All sins hurt God.”
“Really Farf,” drawled Schuldig, “I still don’t think that the ‘God’ cares if I eat too much. He would probably be happy if I died of clogged arteries.”
“God does not wish suffering, but your death would not hurt God.”
“Nice to know, I’m sure.Nagi are you going to eat that sausage link?”
“Yes Schuldig,” replied Nagi with a glare.
“Are you sure?” he asked again edging his fork towards the piece of meat.
“You can’t have it.”
“Come on, you still have anoth….”
He never got to finish, as Farfarello jumped out of his seat to lean across the table, slamming his knife down in front of him! The force of the blow shook the table and caused Schuldig to fall backwards, knocking his head on the tile.Farfarello’s one golden eye glared down at the sprawled German.
“It is why I do not kill you, Guilty one.” With that the Berserker pulled the knife from the table and stuck it between his teeth.He then retreated down the hall.Schuldig, from his place on the floor, stared after his teammate.
“Shit!”Schuldig laughed as he picked himself off the floor.After righting his chair he sat holding his head gingerly.“I should know by now not to make comments about God.”He continued his nasal laughter as he left in search of pain killers.After loading the dishwasher, Nagi went to the refuge of his computer, leaving Crawford alone again in the kitchen.
“Nagi!” Schuldig yelled down the hall, “I want my cds back now!”
“You play them too loud!”
“Blasphemous music hurts God!”
“Nagi!”
“Do you even know what headphones are?!”
“Music will fuel the hate, and God will cry!”
“You put them on the fuck'n ceiling!”
“Don’t you have someone’s life to screw up or something?!”
“Why when I can just screw you!”
“Sodomy hurts God!”
Alone in the kitchen again, but Brad Crawford had anything but peace and quiet.
*Well that’s all for the first chapter.Hopefully I will get the next chapter out soon.I’m not sure how long this will be yet.Reviews are welcome and appreciated.See ya next chapter.