Comments | rivelatalogs: Taking Charge ~ The Longest Walk [Closed]

technokinetic in rivelatalogs

Taking Charge ~ The Longest Walk [Closed]

Mar 07, 2008 21:02

WHO: Schwarz - Brad Crawford, Schuldig, Farfarello, and Naoe Nagi
WHAT: Regrouping - Continuation of The Blood Bath thread
WHERE: New HQ
WHEN: After midnight, after the Blood Bath at the Ball

( It was probably one of the longest walks they'd ever taken as a group... )

Ω brad crawford, Ω naoe nagi, Ω farfarello, Ω schuldig, place - church of new world religion

Comments 72

dummschwallen March 8 2008, 02:21:32 UTC

Schuldig followed after Farfarello, with the presence of mind to close the door behind them, and lock it--a precaution they'd never had to take once upon a time when unicorns still roamed the earth and they still had their fucking powers. His head ached, sharp, lancing pain through his temples: the channel was still open and it was going to tear his brain into pieces, lobe to lobe, gray matter splattering all over the place. He just wanted to put his head against Crawford's shoulder and have Crawford tell him that things were--what was it he'd said?

Peachy Keen.

Damn straight Crawford never used sayings like that before he'd known Schuldig, and it'd taken him a long time to warm up to them, but now he was finally getting somewhere and if Crawford fucking died he was going to lose it. He wasn't going to accept it. Just fucking no.

"Here," Schuldig said, helping Farfarello settle Crawford down on the couch. How many times had they done this for Schuldig? Hey, Crawford, remember that time Takatori beat the shit out of me and you ( ... )

hesitatenot March 8 2008, 02:33:27 UTC

Crawford was half-aware of being moved again, put on the couch and then resettled by hands that weren't Farfarello's. Later on, he would have to show his gratitude in some way. Maybe get him new knives, something like that. Farfarello would like that. He could hear Schuldig's voice in his head too, still, buzzing faintly like insects.

Did you know, people's thoughts taste like honey?He let his head fall back against the arm of the chair, eyelids fluttering open. His glasses were smeared with blood. Useless. There was something he had to--there were a great many things he had to--but for right now he jerked his chin up, a summoning gesture that would have been more eloquent if he could actually lift his arms. At the moment ( ... )

redlamb March 8 2008, 02:57:06 UTC

After-battle conversations on the couch. Good times.

"My back feels weird," was Farfarello's contribution. After his role as the Schwartz packmule, Farfarello's back did indeed twinge a little. He couldn't feel much pain, but carrying a well built American man on his back. Well he would be offended, but the situation now bordered on amusing.

Though he would not be amused if Crawford died of blood loss.

He perched on an armrest, peering at Crawford. In his experience with wounds -- wounding and being wounded -- it seemed that the stitches holding Crawford's shoulder together had come loose. "Do we have any needles here. Maybe we should kidnap a doctor."

Schuldig was hovering nearby, probably worrying. Weird to think of Schuldig worrying about anyone. Weird and wrong. Farfarello let himself slip off the armrest, and lunged onto the other man's shoulders. There. He was staying here for a while. Good view from above.

technokinetic March 8 2008, 03:10:05 UTC

" 'No more theatrics'?" Nagi echoed Crawford's words softly, lifting his head. " 'No more theatrics'?!" Now his voice had risen to conversation level - which was practically like yelling for Nagi.

He stood up and swayed on the spot, but decided to speak his mind anyway, looking directly at Crawford. "This from the man who went barging into a castle battered and bruised after a man who tore up my uniform coat just to drag you out of a jungle inhabited by a now-dormant-and-not-yet-dead hellcat so we could then drag you out of another fight? That kind of 'theatrics'?" That hadn't entirely made sense, but it had been what he'd been thinking about the whole way back to Headquarters ( ... )

dummschwallen March 8 2008, 03:17:14 UTC

"Stop yelling," he said, vaguely, touching the back of Crawford's hand for a moment, letting himself be calmed. Tamed, almost. Maybe he was a jungle cat. And he still wasn't sure what the hell had happened in the fucking jungle--whatever happened in jungles, he supposed, not that he'd ever been to one. Maybe they'd run into King Kong, although, from what Schuldig knew, King Kong didn't have the kind of claws that could tear a man up like that ( ... )