So mothers keep your girls at home, Don't let them journey all alone [complete]

[iknowwhatyoudo]

WHO:Schuldig, Schuldig's Monster, Crawford
WHAT: Part 2 of 3: Turning a Sheep into a Monster
WHERE:In town and then in the Schwartz safe-house
WHEN:Day 235

Comments

[ohnoyouwont]

Crawford cocked his head to the side, in a familiar gesture, the one he always took unconsciously when he needed to see something important and it was eluding him. As if shifting his physical brain a little one way or the other would jog his Mind into giving him what he wanted.

It happened a lot more often, in Rivelata.
He had to strain often, and for long periods of time.

He pushed his glasses up.
He looked at his watch.

"A bit less than that. I estimate that in about two weeks he will end up dead in a ditch. I can't really tell where, but it's not a pretty sight. Something ate half his face, and I definitely didn't need to see that before lunch. We need to make sure he has outlived his usefulness before that can happen, or you will lose all your hard work."

He crossed his legs.

"I didn't put any sugar in it."

[iknowwhatyoudo]

Schuldig nodded his head. He didn't like being rushed, but they only had two weeks, he would need to step up the pace. At the thought of losing his pet Serial Killer, Schuldig didn't feel any sentimental loss. But it would be a shame. He was so...good. He'd have made a truly brilliant serial killer if he survived and had Schuldig's help.

He sipped at the coffee, glad that it was better than the stuff they'd been drinking when they'd first arrived.

"Rat probably. It's what happens when you die in a ditch, or Russia." He replied, giving a little shrug, although he felt a little chill at the thought of having his face eaten by rats. Fucking dirt hole in Russia where there had been rats the size of Dogs who had wanted to eat their faces

[ohnoyouwont]

Crawford sighed. If there was something he hated, it was to be unsure about the outcome of any of his plans. He wasn't a gambler, like a lot of assassins, he was someone who thrived on certainties.

"Unfortunately, right now all I can see is half his face in a ditch. Fate hasn't shifted yet. Or maybe I just need to catch up/"

He shuddered slightly at the thought of those rats in Russia.
They had stood by, their beady eyes watching. Patiently watching.
As if they knew it was only a matter of time until they would get their due.
But Crawford, he had known that they would not.
Under the weight of their combined gazes, with Schuldig, trembling, pressed against his shoulder, he had known that together they would be great.

They would be Schwartz.

/Worse comes to worst, we can sell his location. Rache ist süß./

[iknowwhatyoudo]

With the stone off his person, it felt like a heavier, wet blanket was wrapped around his head. But it was only for work. Schuldig hadn't needed to be told that. More important than comfort (even if he was going to whine about it) was getting back his powers, without relying on a rock. He only used it when he went outside to deal with things, like his Monster.

"Ah well. We can always find another one, if we have to. There's some fun in just making the monster, so I don't mind."

/There's that option too. Although it's not like either of us need the money./

[ohnoyouwont]

Crawford saw Schuldig's shoulders sag almost imperceptibly as he discarded the stone. Most people would not have noticed anything, but Schuldig had been an intrinsic -if perpetually irritating- part of his life for so long that he could pick up on all of the little nuances that were usually lost to others, dwarfed by his flamboyant attitude and his loud mouth.

"How is your head?"

/We do not need the money, but we could use the good will such an action would generate./