[Closed] --your ability

[allmyblack]

Characters: Schuldig and Farfarello, for now.
Location: L9, Schwarz residence.
Time: Day 1, evening.
Summary: A night at the Schwarz hideout.
Notes: Nothing unusual, I suppose, just be warned of some possibly disturbing topics before clicking. Also... I will cut down the length of the tags. >.> I will!

Comments

[rev13_3]

Farfarello walked, and the city screamed.

Not with their faces, turned bright and laughing at the network feeds of sport and sexuality; no neither did they scream with their voices, shrill cheers and angry shouts the only sounds that issued forth. But as Schuldig heard with his mind, so did Farfarello hear the truth with his eye, and his tongue, and his hand.

They were terrified, lost little lambs, crowding the streets and the bars and their fancy exposed apartments, voices raised unnaturally loud. Terrified and alone, so they pressed together against the dark, drawing false life from the figures on the tiny flickering field. Their leaders had fallen. Without guide or guardian, they sought comfort in the rituals of the past, too afraid of the blackness to stand apart, seeking safety in numbers, in routine, in the All-Seeing Eye of the network display.

There was no safety to be had. Silently, Farfarello moved about the city, from crowd to crowd, level to level, the blood dripping cold and slow

And I saw one of his heads as it

[allmyblack]

It spoke volumes of the state of Schuldig's shields that he had not singled out Farfarello from the mindless chatter that was pressing against the barricades within his mind. Usually he would have noticed the Irishman when the thought of visiting the house was just forming in Farfarello's mind. This time he blinked, nonplussed, at the sight of him, dripping gore all over the immaculate floor tiles.

I won't be the unfortunate one cleaning up that mess... The accidentally broadcast thought was laced with distaste that was hardly usual for Schuldig, spiced up with passive arrogance and a haughty air of superiority

[rev13_3]

So he wasn't the only one in need of a bath. Schuldig had stepped in socialite, and tracked the filth of her into their nice clean house. What a mind she must have had, to have left such an impression! Farfarello's teeth clicked together at the thought of sinking into a pearl-strewn throat, silencing that arrogance, staining that immaculate artifice.

How much of that was his own bloodthirst and how much of that was Schuldig, he couldn't tell. It was infuriating, suddenly and unavoidably as a typhoon crashing across the front of his mind. It was infuriating and unacceptable, to have his hand guided by the whim of another. Desires shared was one thing, but this was guidance, and Farf was done with being led about on a leash

[allmyblack]

Charming.

Just a little bit too quaintly sophisticated, the click of Schuldig's tongue. But the fact was that grimy texture of Farfarello's mental sending was pulling the telepath back to the roots of himself, anchoring him. The simple lust for blood was subsiding to give room for pensive annoyance.

...like a dog on a leash?

His vocal reply more vicious, yet still lacking the sharpened edge of violence. "Fuck you." The blood was being spilled within his mind, giving an impatient push to the mental image, making the rat skin off its fur and bone, flesh and blood, to give life for something mechanical, gore-covered metal body fusing together with the rattrap and devouring the rodent.

Little bones snapping, sickeningly wet sound of flesh being chewed between mechanical jaws, it sounded disturbingly much alike with the sound of Schuldig digging into his pizza.

I'm building my cage, one damn brick at a time.

Go take your shower, Farfarello.