I do NOT own the pretty bishonen, not much gore, there is a bit of OOCness and Aya is on something… …:sniff: … So, no suing the poor innocent child over here!
Farfie: I hate to break it to ya, but you are nothing close to innocent.
…Farf? Making me look good hurts God.
Farfie: …Jaeger rules! Ahhahahahahahaha! Take that God!
Schu: You suck, Jaeger, you suck.
Making me look good pisses Brad off.
Schu: ……Jaeger has some of the best writing skills! ;
Brad: …I will hurt you. Very much so.
Yohji: So, when is this thing getting going?
Farfie: As soon as Jaeger is done hurting God…
End Inner Dialogue
just so you know, fhg means Farf's dreamin'.
Farfarello stood on the rubble of the building he had once called home. The blast had caught him, and blood ran down his sides and his face, but he ignored it. He was too busy cursing God. Cursing him for all that had happened in the past week. First, it was Crawford. He just cracked, started mumbling things unintelligible. Then, the letter came. Farfarello was very close to gouging some Esset eyes once Shuldig finished reading it out loud. They were no longer needed. Disbanded. Terminated. They were to await Esset's arrival to make it formal. Crawford ordered them to leave. He sat with his gun at the kitchen table while the other three got out. Nagi told them later that Crawford wouldn't be coming back. Esset was making sure Schwartz didn't bite the hand that was putting them down. Farfarello took his former comrades to random hellholes he used to use as 'home' to hide very effectively from Esset's terminators. Nagi was the first of the escapees to be recaptured. What they did to him was a mystery to the Irish teen and the telepath. Schuldig finally came out and told Farfarello his true feelings for the white-haired psycho, and the very next morning, Farfarello lost him in the next attack. Now, he stood on the remains of the tenth home Esset had destroyed in search of Schwartz. Even Weiss couldn't have known about this.
Farfarello caught a snippet of common sense as he cut himself with his last knife to leave enough blood to make it clear he had supposedly died in the blast. He even decided to leave his knife and jacket (in shreds) there as well.
"I hope you're happy with yourself." Farfarello growled at the sky before he quickly cleared the scene to disappear into the shadows.
He knew he was lost. Not 4 hours into the night, and he was lost. Usually, it wouldn't have mattered. He liked being alone. But that was most of the time. Now, he didn't have Schuldig's occasional banter in his head or a nice sharp blade to keep him company. He had nothing, not even a life. He had left that at the destroyed building. All he had was the knowledge God was laughing at him, and there was someone coming at him with a wire…
Wait. Wire equaled Balinese. Balinese equaled Weiss. Farfarello groaned. His fears were answered as he watched the other 3 members appear around Balinese. He decided a duck and run would earn him a best-case scenario. He waited until the predictable Siberian ran at him with his bugnuks outstretched. Farfarello waited until he was just close enough and then sidestepped. This left Siberian in a surprised state as Farfarello bolted past him, dodged Balinese's wire, and hoped to the Devil Bombay missed every single shot. What came next was a bit of a shock to the Irish teen. He suddenly found himself flat on his back, wire wrapped about his leather clad leg and a steel-eyed Abyssian holding his kitana at just the right angle that Farfarello had no doubts he had just been clobbered over the head with the hilt. He squirmed a little, but realized with a jolt that if he let Weiss kill him, he would be able to stick it to God that he escaped Esset. Even in death the backstabbers wouldn't have the elusive white-haired Irishman. Farfarello looked up at Abyssian, a huge grin slapped upon his face. The steel-look faltered a moment, but regained intensity as the kitana was righted so the business end pointed at Farfarello's throat. He slowly slithered his hands up and unbuckled the black belt from his neck, allowing Abyssian a gook look at his pale, scarred neck. Balinese was in his line of sight now; gloved hand tightly gripping the wire as well as Bombay; crossbow facing Farfarello, daring him to run. Farfarello had no such idea.
"Well? What is wrong? I cannot escape." Farfarello's grin faded as he realized they weren't going to kill him just yet.
"Where's the rest of Schwartz?" Siberian asked from the direction of where Farfarello had left him. Farfarello clamped his jaw shut, knowing not telling would give them more incentive to kill him. Abyssian forced his kitana to settle under Farfarello's chin. The Irishman just smirked.
"Berserker. We won't ask again." The redhead growled. Farfarello continued to smirk, but he felt a chuckle start to form a lump in his throat. Balinese broke off his wire. Farfarello didn't move. Bombay knelt to look Farfarello in the eye.
Farfarello blinked. He had never heard that tone in the assassin's voice before.
"What's wrong?" Bombay asked again, putting his crossbow down and reaching out to feel Farfarello's forehead. The white-haired teen thought maybe if he attacked, he would be killed, but stopped that train of thought as Bombay's worried look escalated into fear. Fear not of him, but for Farfarello. As if he cared whether he had a fever. He wanted to die. Not be pitied upon.
"Aya-kun! He's already bleeding! A-and he's feverish!"
If Farfarello had ever seen Abyssian pissed, it was here and now.
"I don't care, Bombay. Berserker does not need to know our names, nor do I care what state he is in."
Yes, ignore Bombay. Farfarello wanted to die.
"Look at him. He isn't even struggling." Balinese reached down and pushed the kitana away. Farfarello cried out and nearly leapt on the blonde in anger. He growled in the back of his throat, on the verge of ordering they kill him. Abyssian looked almost astonished. Farfarello finally made a grab for the kitana as he whined.
"…Kill me already!"
"Wha-What?" Bombay gasped. Farfarello stopped his attempts at grabbing the kitana to glance at the chibi. Just that one look into those deep eyes full of warmth pushed the fight straight out of Farfarello. His wounds' pain finally broke through his barriers and he hissed as he clutched his sides. He suddenly felt someone behind him, but before he could react, Balinese lifted the awkwardly light Irishman into his arms and smiled warmly at him.
"I don't think us killing you will help anything."
"You have no idea what you're dealing with. You will kill me. Now."
"If we don't know, why don't you enlighten us, Berserker?" Abyssian sheathed his sword in favor of Balinese's approach. Bombay smiled at Balinese, thanking him silently. Farfarello just growled.
"I. Want. To. Die." He punctuated each word. Abyssian looked thoughtful for a moment.
"That is none of your business. I thought you wanted Schwartz dead. God certainly does. And he's already starting to succeed." Farfarello stopped and cursed himself for letting that slip. Balinese caught it.
Farfarello sighed. He might as well. "Esset has backstabbed Schwartz. As of yesterday, I am all that's left of the renegades. Everyone else is either dead or recaptured."
They all stood in silence a moment, except for Farfarello,before Balinese casually started walking out of the alley. Abyssian followed, pushing a reluctant Bombay in front of him. Siberian took his time at the back, clearing the alley so no one would be the wiser. Farfarello was wishing his blood had been what he was cleaning up and dumping his corpse in some dumpster. But, as far as Weiss was concerned, he wasn't an enemy at the moment.
Balinese sat next to Farfarello, calmly helping him drink a soda since his hands were tied to the armrests of his chair. Abyssian and Siberian were nowhere in sight, but Bombay was sitting on the couch opposite Farfarello. The Irishman's wounds were bandaged and the shrapnel from Esset's explosion that had lodged itself between his shoulder blades was gone. He didn't seem to mind that Balinese had to trash the blood soaked shirt he had been wearing for the past few days, nor was he really upset at the loss of his chains and boots; it made sitting for a long time less uncomfortable. In fact, Farfarello's only salvageable pieces of clothing were his slightly torn, dark colored cargo pants and the belt he had replaced about his throat. Bombay finally moved to the smaller couch to Farfarello's right, catching the Irishman's attention.
"We really don't have anywhere you can sleep…we, um, weren't expecting you." The chibi informed him reluctantly. Farfarello let a little smile creep into his features for Bombay.
"I'm used to sleeping in a straight jacket, you know." He laughed. It wasn't a cold laugh, one that Weiss would have been used to. It was more of a giggle to show Bombay there weren't any hard feelings from the psycho. Bombay perked up, realizing the white-haired teen had been trying to lighten the mood. Balinese allowed a bit of a smile as well.
"I'm sure we could find you a spot on the sofa. So long as you promise not to stab us to death in the night, I'm also sure I could talk Aya into letting you free." Balinese promised the Irishman.
"God seems to be hating me enough. I'm sure I could refrain from harming the Angels so long as the Angels are willing to fall with me."
"Berserker, we've fallen from 'God' a long time ago." Abyssian strode into the room, answering Farfarello's offer. The Irishman's eye glinted slightly in the light, silently promising to keep his hands off Weiss. With that, Abyssian strode forward and deftly untied the ropes. Farfarello rubbed the feeling back into his hands; having done this so much back in his old cell, the blood and flesh were used to it by now.
"I would like to know the fallen Angel's names, since I might be here a while." Farfarello calmly sat near Bombay, giving the chibi a kind smile.
"Omi." The child extended his hand to Farfarello in a friendly gesture. The Irishman took his hand gently.
"Farfarello." He smiled non-threateningly. Balinese leaned forward with his hand outstretched after Omi released Farfarello's scarred hand.
"Yohji Kudou." The blonde calmly stated. Abyssian slowly looked Farfarello over before muttering, "My name is Aya."
"Siberian's real name is Ken, by the way." Omi informed the Irishman. Farfarello nodded his assent before giving a small smile.
"Bedtime, chibi." Yohji smirked at the incredulous look Omi gave him.
"Yohji's right. It's almost 10:00." Aya's thin scowl caught Omi in mid-temper, and the kid stalked off to his room. Yohji shooed Aya off and fetched a pillow and a blanket from the hall closet for their unexpected guest.
"Don't bother getting up early. Aya's the only one who does, and he does it 'cause of the shop." Yohji laughed as he made his way up the stairs to his room. Farfarello sighed, thinking to himself how nice it would be to be back in the safety of his cell as he staked out a spot on the amazingly comfortable sofa, slipped the pillow under his pale head and curled up under the blanket. It didn't take long for the fatigue of the day to settle in and allow Farfarello to drift off.
He stood on the edge, tempted to release the ledge and fall forward to meet the ground with a solid and satisfactory splat. It took Farfarello a moment to recognize a certain red-haired telepath standing with him, only the telepath was floating. Farfarello stared.
"I'm not dead yet." Schuldig said abruptly.
"I can see that." Farfarello reached out to touch his telepath, but he misjudged the distance and slipped. He felt a chunk of his hardened heart grow cold with fear as he saw his Schuldig grow smaller and the ground closer. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live, for his Schuldig. His fall abruptly ended as Farfarello opened his eyes to stare into emerald ones.
"Neither are you."
Farfarello awoke with a start, a cold sweat on his brow. He glanced around wildly, finally noticing he had been dreaming. He sighed and rubbed his temple agitatedly. A glance at the nearby window told the Irishman it was daylight, but he wasn't certain if it was still early or not.
"Only one way to find out." He growled out loud to himself as he kicked off the blanket and wandered into the kitchen. He couldn't tell if anyone was up yet, but he sufficed to seat himself at the table and wait.
So? Good, Bad…get off the site...por favor! Please…before Schu strangles me!
Schu: Nobody calls me Schu 'cept Farfie!
Farf: Aye…and you remember that. :licks knife: