Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Prayers of the Fallen ❯ The German Inquisition ( Chapter 9 )

Chapter 9:

It had been hours since the 'training' session that morning, and the household occupied by Schwarz was relatively calm. A false sense of normality had fallen over everything. Nagi had long ago gone to his room to 'rest' he said - though when Eve had mentally checked up on him, he was tapping away at his laptop. Schuldig was sprawled out on the couch in front of the television, lazily watching random shows; and the ever present Crawford was sitting in a chair reading that days paper. Yes, seemingly normal to the unknowing - just three men that lived together enjoying a day of rest. The only thing that ruined that pleasing ruse, was that she knew for a fact what each man was capable of, that they had killed and would kill again, each enjoying it in their own way, but most of all, it was the knowledge of the fourth. The final member of the assassin group - who was currently tightly locked away in his room - was what suddenly caught the girl's attention.

A seemingly random thought, but it had been entering her mind quite frequently since that mornings escapades. He was...strange. She smiled slightly to herself; insanity usually implies strangeness. She then shifted her weight on the couch while lost in her thoughts, stretching her legs out and kicking the Germans' off in the process.

"Hey!" the newly disturbed redhead uttered at he tried to swing his long legs back to their previous resting-place. Eve smiled playfully at the man, who strangely enough, had become something like a best friend to her in the brief time that she had known him. She liked him, he seemed like her also in a way. Well, at least a part of her; she really was too complex to put a single label on.

Schuldig began to lightly kick at her, trying to reclaim his space, she began to giggle softly, which prodded mischievous grins from the redhead. She liked that he was playful, no matter whatever the inspiration for such a mood was, whether it be boredom, spite, or something else entirely. She needed to have at least some positive aspects to her life. After all, she was starting over. No longer was she going to be controlled by megalomaniacs and mad-scientists. She would now use to her fullest ability the one thing that Esset had hated the most about her; her free spirit. She would let it take her wherever it felt to go, and right now, it felt the need to wage a foot war with the couch-hog.

After loud bouts of laughter started to drown out whatever television program was on, Crawford jerkily folded his newspaper, setting it aside, and looked at the both of them, coughing to interrupt their games. The two stopped their antics to look at the dark-haired man, both trying to look as innocent as possible, which is hard when one can barely hold in laughter. Crawford looked about ready to yell long and hard at the alleged 'adults', but instead, his voice was level and moderate in tone, though his eyes were burning with a rising annoyance.

"Would you two please take your childish antics elsewhere and leave me in peace." then, as always when he was frustrated, Brad Crawford took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes with one hand, adding to the look of annoyance that was slowly creeping onto his face.

"OK, Bradley! But only because you asked so nicely." Schuldig smiled at the Schwarz-leader, almost challenging him to say more in retort to the obvious sarcasm, but Crawford did nothing but rest his glasses back on his nose and unfold his paper again, ready to continue reading.

Schuldig, after deciding that Brad wasn't going to rise to his schemes again, nudged Eve and motioned with his head that they should move elsewhere, the smile still plastered on his face.

After stopping off at the kitchen for a snack and some pilfered beers, Schuldig, with the girl close behind, headed towards his room, where Schu collapsed on his bed and Eve getting comfortable in the large window.

"So, what now, Evie?" Schu said before taking a swig of his beer.

"Don't know." Eve answered softly, falling quickly back into her quiet state.

Schuldig leaned against his pillow that was propped up against the wall and sighed, mildly frustrated that the girl had lapsed into another bout of silent behavior. She really was strange. Was she a manic-depressive or something? She had these odd mood swings. After taking a few more swigs from his beer, he decided to voice his silent inquiry.

"Are you a manic-depressive?" he said flatly, stating it as a simple question and noting more.

Eve's gaze turned from the overcast outdoors to the redheaded telepath not too far from where she was resting. She looked deep into his jade eyes, trying to question the motives behind the question by squinting her own blue ones slightly, but settled for auditory words.

"No, why?"

"Well," more beer was quickly consumed. "You keep slipping in and out of these moods that are polar opposites. I mean, just a few minutes ago you were all hyper and fun and now you're silent and, well, broody. What's up?" This was all said with much more emotion infused into the words. Was he really concerned as his voice slightly betrayed, or was it just general curiosity?

"I'm borderline bipolar, something similar to manic-depression I suppose. At least that's what the doctors told me." She didn't want to admit that her thoughts had once again drifted to the white-haired Irishman just down the hall. She had been letting her mind literally wander, and it was to his room that it went. He was just lying on his bed, thinking about hurting God again. Why did she find him so fascinating? What was it that attracted her to him?

She felt a tingling sensation at the back of her mind, telling her that the German was trying to enter her mind to find out what she kept thinking of. She in turn blocked him even further, sending a mental shock his way.

"Hey!"

"I told you that sort of thing wasn't very polite, besides, you'll never be able to get in my mind anyway."

"And remind me again, why that is?" he said curtly, rubbing at his temples to relieve the aftereffects of Eversor's attack.

"Because I'm stronger than you." she stated matter-of-factly.

Schuldig glared at her, knowing full well that what the girl had sad was the absolute truth - how else would she have been able to control him earlier that morning - but still not happy with the knowledge that he was inferior to someone. But, he thought, best not piss off those stronger than you. So he plastered on another grin and asked another question, one that just wouldn't go away. But this time he was going to be slightly more tactful about it.

"What do you think of Farf?"

Again, Eve's gaze shifted to the German on the bed. She wasn't in the least bit surprised. She didn't have to be a precog to see that one coming, neither did she have to pick it from the redhead's mind, she just knew it was something he wasn't going to let alone until his curiosity was satisfied. In the end, she decided to be smart with him.

"I'm not informed enough to answer that at the present time." and she returned his smirk, which had slipped only slightly on his own face at the comment. She could see his eyes glint with frustration, then brighten with more curious determination and another question.

"Well, that can't be entirely true. You've had to've at least talked to him, why else would he have this fascination with you? And why does he call you 'Lady Death'?" Schuldig had now leaned forward, trying to emphasize the fact that he 'needed' to be answered. Eve just stared at him, her own smirk slowly fading from her lips. Farfarello was fascinated with her? For some reason, she hadn't even tried to read his mind since the brief encounter after the interrogation. But she quickly set this all aside to save face in front of those inquiring jaden eyes.

"It's a perfect name for a female assassin, don't you agree?" she retorted.

Schuldig seemed a tad flustered then, having had his question sidestepped and avoided once again with quick wit. I wish I could get into that head of yours, he thought while glaring, albeit playfully, at her. She was going to be a tough nut to crack.

***

He had been in his room all day, the only real break from the absolute boredom was when Nagi had come up to him with his lunch. The young boy had stayed, surprisingly enough, and talked awhile with him. Everything seemed to have changed a bit since the girl had come to them over a week ago, now. He came to the conclusion that the young boy wasn't all around bad. He was very intelligent, articulate and had a budding sense of humor - most likely a side-effect of living with Schuldig for so long - it was only when Nagi was condescending towards Farfarello that he disliked the young telekinetic.

But during his noontime visit, the boy hadn't once looked down upon the Irishman. No, instead he spoke to him like he was an old friend, telling him what had been going on; his views on things and such. What most got Farfarello's attention, and coincidentally what got him asking questions, was that Schuldig had found that the neighborhood was littered with dead animals' bodies mangled and bloodied. So she has been out since, he thought quietly as Nagi was explaining the sight, knowing full well that the madman would enjoy the thought of blood and death, though to him personally, it was a bit sick.

He hadn't stayed long, but it had been entertaining none the less. Anything to break the boredom that was as much a cage to him as was the four walls that made up his room.

He looked around his room, at the four padded walls and the small barred window. At least it had a window, his cell in the basement didn't. It gave the dank, dirty room an even stronger feeling of Hell and eternal punishment. Befitting of him really, he thought, but he still didn't like it. Yes, in that small box daring enough to be called a room, he felt his mind slip even further, if that was at all possible. Sometimes he found himself wondering if he had died, he had been left so long to hang there, bound and strung up like beef about to be drawn and quartered.

His lip twitched upwards slightly at the thought of butchering. But obviously, his thoughts weren't of slicing up dead animals. No, they were of real people, of course, screaming, begging and all. The mere thought began to stir his bloodlust.

//Now, now, Farf. Leave those kinds of thoughts for when we can actually use them.//

He heard the bolts slide out of their locked positions and the faint creek of the heavy metal door as it was casually pushed inward to allow the redheaded German passage. A smirk was placed on the thin lips, as always, and the older man held an air about him like he was up to mischief. No good can come of this to be assured, but that was part of the reason Farfarello liked this cocky man. He was very entertaining, even if it did get him -and sometimes others- in trouble. He liked to hurt others, so that made him all right in Farfarello's eye.

"It's nice to know I'm so well thought of." The telepath quipped, closing the door again behind him and walking further into the room. He came closer to Farfarello, looking down on his white-haired teammate lying perfectly straight on his bed, his hand folded casually on his stomach. Farfarello just lay there passively, waiting to see if anything entertaining would come of this particular visit. Schuldig just shook his head, apparently amused at something, and sat down on the corner of the narrow bed.

"So, what have you been up to all day?"

Farfarello just lay flat out on his bed, not even acknowledging the others presence anymore. He didn't see fit to answer the inane question. He thought it pretty obvious what had been up to all that day, especially to a telepath. Absolutely nothing. That's right. Nothing whatsoever. He was bored right out of his tree, and if this idjit was going to do nothing but ask dumb questions, then he didn't want any part of it.

"So I'm an `idjit' now, am I." Schu said, amused. Farfarello didn't move, didn't even think. Clearing ones mind completely of all thought is something very few people can do, but he had mastered the ability quite effectively. It was a useful trick to have, that, and it pissed Schu off.

Schuldig gave a small noise of obvious displeasure, shaking his head, though Farfarello knew that the small smirk was still set in place. And that's how they sat for what seemed the longest time, at least to Schuldig, Farfarello really couldn't care one way or the other. It was just more time added onto the time already spent in the silent prison called his room. Finally Schuldig stirred, swinging his body around to rest leisurely with his arms resting on the metal foot of Farf's bed, his legs stretched to their full extent, and sat there staring at the Irishman. Farf still didn't move.

"So, Farfie, how are you adjusting to our newest roommate?" Farf once again didn't respond, but he heard Schu roll his eyes.

"I think she's very-" then with a small dramatic pause, he used a word from Farfarello's own mind. "-intriguing. And my God is she stacked! She's got the big-" he stopped when he heard a faint grunt come from the man lying beside him. Oh, was that a warning? The German smiled; now he was getting somewhere.

"Well, you have to admit, she is beautiful."

At that, Farfarello did move a bit, sifting his weight slightly. Then, in a whispered, seemingly philosophical voice, Schu heard this reply.

"Aye, and so are many other deadly things." Schuldig nodded at this comment. It was very insightful, and such statements coming from his mentally imbalanced friend were a joy to hear. It made the white-haired man seem like a philosopher and not a madman. Though really, he thought, where does one draw the line there. He smirked at his inner thoughts.

Farfarello somehow knew that his pushy German companion was going to bring up the subject of the girl. And since it was something other than silence and his own thoughts, he decided it would be somewhat worth his while to sit up and pay attention. So he pulled his deceptively thin form into a sitting position and looked straight into Schuldig's eyes. The German smirked again, and continued with his descriptions of the girl.

"She's an exceptional beauty, she is. Her skin so pale; she's nearly as white as you are, Farf! And her black hair makes her skin glow in contrast. Ah, but it's the eyes; her eyes are what makes her look almost ethereal. Such an unnatural blue, so pale; they look nearly colorless."

Farfarello looked at the man he had known as a trickster and a user, never one to rant about beauty and the impressions thereof, like he was at that moment. That girl was having a strange affect on all of them.

Schuldig, having heard these thoughts, allowed a small chuckle escape his throat and looked at his friend fondly. Yes, Evie was having a strange affect on all of them. He saw that Farfarello was becoming entranced with her mere presence; Nagi was becoming increasingly more compassionate; even Bradley was being a bit more approachable. And he himself, well, he was becoming philosophical. It was all quite amusing to him. The incorrigible and indomitable Schwarz was going soft. Maybe it's an unknown power that she doesn't know she has yet. What is a power like that called again? He let himself and his white-haired friend sit in silence while he thought all of this over a span of a few seconds. Finally coming out of his pensive state, Schuldig plastered his usual smirk on once again and asked the question that mattered most to his obsessive and curious mind.

"OK, Farf. How would you describe her then, other than `deadly' of course."

Farfarello's one piercing golden eye blinked a few times, staring blankly at the German across the bed from him. He had the instinctual feeling that the redheaded telepath had been intruding on his thoughts again, but even so, he had to wonder why he was asking such a question. Farfarello knew that the man was curious to a fault, but what did this strain of knowledge matter to him. But no matter the almost animalistic instinct to not speak, he began to do just the opposite.

"A fallen angel." He said quietly. He paused then for a moment; not for the dramatic effect it would lend to his words, but because he needed to collect his thoughts. Then he began to speak again. "Gothic and classic in a way." Then, in a rare moment of wit he added. "Nothing like the women you usually go for, Schu."

Schuldig laughed outright when he heard this, not only because it was humorous, but out of pure surprise. He knew full well that he was the butt of this particular joke, but it was the fact that the joke had been made by the criminally insane Irishman, that really had him going. This was a rare occasion indeed. After, Schulidg finally gained control of himself again, he motioned for his companion to continue. He was absolutely sure that there was more to this little train of thought. Farfarello did not disappoint.

"She's elegant in her movements, thought I'm not completely sure whether the motives behind them are unpolluted." Then, in a whisper, almost as an afterthought, he added. "There is a great pain inside of her that just seems to add to her mystery."

Schuldig just sat there for a moment, staring at his white-haired friend in near awe. "I do believe Farf, that you just said more in the last few minutes than you have in the last couple of months." Schu's smile was stretching on to forever and he was looking very pleased with himself. By now, Farfarello had directed his gaze back towards the redhead, a look of annoyance slowly creeping into his one golden eye. Suddenly Schuldig swung around on the bed, his long legs now hanging over the edge. He gave a sidelong glance to Farfarello, his patented smirk waning only slightly.

"Y'know ol' friend, if I didn't know better, I'd think you had some form of empathic ability. How is it that you can decipher human behavior, yet you hate being around them." It wasn't entirely a question, more like a statement, but Farfarello shrugged none the less, as if to answer. "Of course, you don't mind us, now do ya Farfie." The Irishman just sat there, staring at Schuldig, now back to looking absolutely emotionless.

The German just smiled and shook his head, knowing full well the thoughts that were going through his friends head, but decidedly not mentioning anything - for once. Then, quickly becoming bored with the current situation, having gotten what he had come for for the moment, a new, more appealing plan came to his mischievous mind.

"Hey Farf, I was just thinking, I was going to out and have some fun tonight, would you like to join me?" his smile broadened, when he heard the bloodied thoughts running through the deranged mind of his companion. "No Farf, not that kind of fun. I was thinking more along the lines of clubbing. Y'know, normal fun."

Farfarello stared at the hunched over man in front of him. For a moment, he thought of turning down his offer, but thought again of it. For if he accepted, he'd be out of this room.

"Alright." He said.

"Ah, back to the old Farf, ne?" Schuldig chuckled. Finally he stood up, stretching his lanky form, he looked over his shoulder at the thin looking man still laying passively on the bed. "Well, you might want to come down for dinner then, cuz right after we leave." He began walking out of the room, this time leaving the door wide open. Farfarello heard Schuldig laugh as he walked down the hall, and also when he called out in his mental voice to the Irishman alone. //We can even leave Nagi to do the dishes alone.//