Title: In the Strangest Places
Part: 1/1
Author: focsfyr
Pairing: Schuldich+Farfarello
Warnings: shonen-ai
Disclaimer: I don't own them and have no money. No copyright infringements are intended.
Archive: http://www.geocities.com/focs_mc others please ask
C&C: I live for them ^_^
*sound effect*
::thoughts::
IN THE STRANGEST PLACES
I don't know what it is that drew me to him. Our first meeting was uncomfortable at best and no matter how lovely in his own eerie way, he certainly didn't inspire trust or a sense of camaraderie.
It was late fall in Tokyo and though there weren't enough trees near the apartment to see the leaves turn, there was a bite to the hazy air that, to anyone who knew what to look for, infallibly heralded the end of the summer months. Me, I was bored as hell, sprawled out on the couch with an ashtray full of cigarette butts smoldering on the expensively carpeted floor. Bradley would be furious.
Too bad he wasn't there to stop me.
Then I heard a loud knock at the apartment door. A perfunctory mind-touch revealed the presence of two guards. How boring. Damned if I was going to bother to get up and let them in. If it was really that urgent, they could wait until the tight-ass precog got back.
So I left them right where they were...or at least I intended to, but they kept banging tirelessly away at the door -- guess they were too stupid to take a hint -- and got more infuriating by the moment until I was about ready to shoot them just to *shut* them *up*! So I stormed across the room ready to put a bullet in their brains and jerked the door open so hard I could hear the hinges protest. And there they were, looking like two slabs of beef. Two tall, muscle-bound gorillas who could add one and one and get three, armed with stun guns...hovering menacingly near another man, dwarfed by their bulk.
All my annoyance with the idiot guards instantly fizzled out in favor of...curiosity. For the man I saw before me was curious indeed. Lovely, in a way that was yearned after by the obsessive little bitches that hounded that flower shop Weib thought they were hiding in, the girls that spent thousands of yen on their makeup, hair and facial cleansers.
He had naturally what they could never attain with all the makeup in the world: an effortless beauty, without the patently false veneer.
What I saw before me was a slenderly muscled man in his late teens with one burning amber eye too wise and too jaded for such a young age. What had happened to make him so old when still so young? The pale skin of his face was seamed with darker scars, which only drew attention to high cheekbones and a fine aristocratic nose. Silver glimmered along ears, on the collar circling his throat, and the leather clinging to his long, long legs. His short silvered hair was rumpled and unruly; looking like it had never been touched by a brush.
I dismissed the straitjacket entirely. I'd worn one a time or two...back before I'd learned to hide the fact that I could read people's minds. Before Esset taught me to control it so it wouldn't drive me insane. You can only listen to other people's thoughts for so long before you begin to lose your own.
He stood there calmly while I looked him up and down, not the least bit uncomfortable with my blatant appraisal, then stumbled forward into the room when one of the gorillas shoved him from behind. Immediately he caught his balance with grace a cat would envy and before I could blink, spun on one black, booted foot, the other lashing out to land a crushing blow right in the junction of the offender's ribs.
Idiot #2 rushed forward as his companion doubled over, spitting a few drops of blood on Bradley's oh-so-expensive carpet, but stopped short when One-eye danced out of reach, baring straight, white teeth in a feral grin. But it was the look in his eye that stopped the guard, wildly manic and ready to rip out his throat with his teeth.
No one sane ever looked like that.
The guard backed off, keeping his gaze fixed on One-eye while he helped the other to his feet. Smart move, maybe there was something besides bone in his head after all. Even idiots can sense a predator.
The two backed up until they were in the hall and a 'safe' distance from their charge before they finally spoke.
"Psycho little bastard," number two muttered beneath his breath. Then he glared at me. "Here, the freak's your responsibility now. You deal with him." And they both took off down the hall as fast as they could, trying not to look like they were running away. It didn't work. I've never seen someone walk so fast in my life, but watching two big, burly, wrestler-looking tough guys do it was hilarious!
I turned back to my lovely little nutcase. He wasn't there.
"God *DAMN*! Where the hell *are* you?" A pointless question, I know. But it was the first thought that popped into my head when I saw the straitjacket lying in a heap on the floor, most of the buckles still locked. There was no response.
Just what I needed. 'Call animal control, I've got a loony loose in the house!' Right.
*ssshink*
::What the hell was that?::
*ssshink*
::It sounds like...metal.::
Damn, it sounded like knives.
I ran down the hall and skidded to a stop on the tiled kitchen floor -- and there he was, draped across one of the chairs, drawing the blade of a butterfly knife (where the hell did he get *that*?) across a sharpening stone.
*ssshink*
The grating of the blade set my teeth on edge, and before I thought twice I lunged forward and seized his wrist. Before I could blink, the knife was in his other hand with the edge trembling softly against my throat, and that crazed golden eye staring straight into mine. That horrible, beautiful, unearthly glimmer of gold that stared straight through my eyes and into my soul, carelessly rifling through my every thought and fear.
It felt almost...violating. It was a strange sensation for someone who spends much of his life violating the minds of others and using that knowledge to his own advantage. Of course, it wasn't involuntary any more. I only hear people's thoughts when I damn well *want* to. But there is a constant hum of voices in the background, the murmur of thousands of consciousness', buzzing like bees in the back of my head. Not enough to drive me insane, but still an annoyance.
Being on the other end for once and feeling what my victims have felt was strange...no, more than strange. It was *unbearable*. We all have our secrets, but mine are buried deep. The pain of my past is something I would rather forget -- push it so far back in my mind that nothing and no one can drag it into the light unless I trust them enough that I allow them to see.
I've never met anyone worthy of trust. I can hear what people think, and there's not a single one that wouldn't betray a secret if it worked to their own benefit.
But this person, this *stranger* was doing it. I could almost feel him pick my secrets to bits, tossing aside those of no interest and putting the rest under a fucking microscope. Like they were toys. He was playing with me, fucking with my mind the way I do with others, and it was unnerving and annoying and it was *pissing me off!*
::So, he wants to play? Let's see how *he* holds up against *me*.:: In retaliation (or maybe self defense) I plunged through that molten iris, delving through his consciousness to screw with the madman's mind...
Silence.
Total and complete silence. I could feel the thoughts spinning wildly in his head, jumping without warning from here to there, examining everything and missing nothing...but not a single one was 'audible' to me. I could hear the voices rising from the streets -- but someone had pushed the mute button on his mind and forgotten to warn me. It was...a relief. There was tranquility where I had expected turmoil, a calm beneath the storm.
No foreign thoughts, no worries, no fears invading my mind. Just peace...and the slightest glimmer of something else, tickling at the edge of my awareness. It slipped through my fingers as I tried to grasp it, but returned just a moment later. Amorphous and subtle, just barely there, but it felt like...
It felt. I was sensing not thoughts, but feelings (since when was I an empath anyway?) and they were confusing as hell, each conflicting with numerous others. Except for one. It was tenuous at best and wavering in and out of my perception...but it was the one thing I had never expected to find. Anywhere.
On some vague (maybe instinctual) level, he looked at me -- and felt trust.
I have never been one to believe in fate or reincarnation or meeting in past lives. That bullshit's all concocted for the tourists and wannabe mystics. I personally know a precog (bastard though he is) and know there's no such thing as destiny.
Just ask him, our stiff-necked leader -- no I won't say he has a 'stick-up-the-ass' because anyone that *did* would be a hell of a lot happier. But ask him. If the future was set he could see as far into the future as he wanted...but he can't. Because every second of every day, every person makes a choice, and at every choice there is a junction. One leads you left, another right, with maybe a few down the center or backwards for good measure. The future is constantly in flux, changing little by little, until what once was 'destined' to be has vanished completely.
There is no fate, no destiny, no inalienable truth. There is no fate but the one that we create for ourselves.
Trust me, I know.
Some things you can change, others you can't, but if there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that there's always a choice.
That day I first saw Farfarello, I made my choice before I even knew his name. When I met our lovely, mad Irishman, I chose to accept the fact that he trusted me implicitly, though he knew next to nothing about me -- something he'd never done before as he, too, had learned to trust no one. I chose to accept his silence as a relief, but also, a challenge to be met.
But the last choice I made is the one that really mattered, that changed the course of my fate. I chose to trust him...completely...insane or not (though I suspected not) and that had made *all* the difference.
Sometimes, you find love in the strangest places.
OWARI
Part: 1/1
Author: focsfyr
Pairing: Schuldich+Farfarello
Warnings: shonen-ai
Disclaimer: I don't own them and have no money. No copyright infringements are intended.
Archive: http://www.geocities.com/focs_mc others please ask
C&C: I live for them ^_^
*sound effect*
::thoughts::
IN THE STRANGEST PLACES
I don't know what it is that drew me to him. Our first meeting was uncomfortable at best and no matter how lovely in his own eerie way, he certainly didn't inspire trust or a sense of camaraderie.
It was late fall in Tokyo and though there weren't enough trees near the apartment to see the leaves turn, there was a bite to the hazy air that, to anyone who knew what to look for, infallibly heralded the end of the summer months. Me, I was bored as hell, sprawled out on the couch with an ashtray full of cigarette butts smoldering on the expensively carpeted floor. Bradley would be furious.
Too bad he wasn't there to stop me.
Then I heard a loud knock at the apartment door. A perfunctory mind-touch revealed the presence of two guards. How boring. Damned if I was going to bother to get up and let them in. If it was really that urgent, they could wait until the tight-ass precog got back.
So I left them right where they were...or at least I intended to, but they kept banging tirelessly away at the door -- guess they were too stupid to take a hint -- and got more infuriating by the moment until I was about ready to shoot them just to *shut* them *up*! So I stormed across the room ready to put a bullet in their brains and jerked the door open so hard I could hear the hinges protest. And there they were, looking like two slabs of beef. Two tall, muscle-bound gorillas who could add one and one and get three, armed with stun guns...hovering menacingly near another man, dwarfed by their bulk.
All my annoyance with the idiot guards instantly fizzled out in favor of...curiosity. For the man I saw before me was curious indeed. Lovely, in a way that was yearned after by the obsessive little bitches that hounded that flower shop Weib thought they were hiding in, the girls that spent thousands of yen on their makeup, hair and facial cleansers.
He had naturally what they could never attain with all the makeup in the world: an effortless beauty, without the patently false veneer.
What I saw before me was a slenderly muscled man in his late teens with one burning amber eye too wise and too jaded for such a young age. What had happened to make him so old when still so young? The pale skin of his face was seamed with darker scars, which only drew attention to high cheekbones and a fine aristocratic nose. Silver glimmered along ears, on the collar circling his throat, and the leather clinging to his long, long legs. His short silvered hair was rumpled and unruly; looking like it had never been touched by a brush.
I dismissed the straitjacket entirely. I'd worn one a time or two...back before I'd learned to hide the fact that I could read people's minds. Before Esset taught me to control it so it wouldn't drive me insane. You can only listen to other people's thoughts for so long before you begin to lose your own.
He stood there calmly while I looked him up and down, not the least bit uncomfortable with my blatant appraisal, then stumbled forward into the room when one of the gorillas shoved him from behind. Immediately he caught his balance with grace a cat would envy and before I could blink, spun on one black, booted foot, the other lashing out to land a crushing blow right in the junction of the offender's ribs.
Idiot #2 rushed forward as his companion doubled over, spitting a few drops of blood on Bradley's oh-so-expensive carpet, but stopped short when One-eye danced out of reach, baring straight, white teeth in a feral grin. But it was the look in his eye that stopped the guard, wildly manic and ready to rip out his throat with his teeth.
No one sane ever looked like that.
The guard backed off, keeping his gaze fixed on One-eye while he helped the other to his feet. Smart move, maybe there was something besides bone in his head after all. Even idiots can sense a predator.
The two backed up until they were in the hall and a 'safe' distance from their charge before they finally spoke.
"Psycho little bastard," number two muttered beneath his breath. Then he glared at me. "Here, the freak's your responsibility now. You deal with him." And they both took off down the hall as fast as they could, trying not to look like they were running away. It didn't work. I've never seen someone walk so fast in my life, but watching two big, burly, wrestler-looking tough guys do it was hilarious!
I turned back to my lovely little nutcase. He wasn't there.
"God *DAMN*! Where the hell *are* you?" A pointless question, I know. But it was the first thought that popped into my head when I saw the straitjacket lying in a heap on the floor, most of the buckles still locked. There was no response.
Just what I needed. 'Call animal control, I've got a loony loose in the house!' Right.
*ssshink*
::What the hell was that?::
*ssshink*
::It sounds like...metal.::
Damn, it sounded like knives.
I ran down the hall and skidded to a stop on the tiled kitchen floor -- and there he was, draped across one of the chairs, drawing the blade of a butterfly knife (where the hell did he get *that*?) across a sharpening stone.
*ssshink*
The grating of the blade set my teeth on edge, and before I thought twice I lunged forward and seized his wrist. Before I could blink, the knife was in his other hand with the edge trembling softly against my throat, and that crazed golden eye staring straight into mine. That horrible, beautiful, unearthly glimmer of gold that stared straight through my eyes and into my soul, carelessly rifling through my every thought and fear.
It felt almost...violating. It was a strange sensation for someone who spends much of his life violating the minds of others and using that knowledge to his own advantage. Of course, it wasn't involuntary any more. I only hear people's thoughts when I damn well *want* to. But there is a constant hum of voices in the background, the murmur of thousands of consciousness', buzzing like bees in the back of my head. Not enough to drive me insane, but still an annoyance.
Being on the other end for once and feeling what my victims have felt was strange...no, more than strange. It was *unbearable*. We all have our secrets, but mine are buried deep. The pain of my past is something I would rather forget -- push it so far back in my mind that nothing and no one can drag it into the light unless I trust them enough that I allow them to see.
I've never met anyone worthy of trust. I can hear what people think, and there's not a single one that wouldn't betray a secret if it worked to their own benefit.
But this person, this *stranger* was doing it. I could almost feel him pick my secrets to bits, tossing aside those of no interest and putting the rest under a fucking microscope. Like they were toys. He was playing with me, fucking with my mind the way I do with others, and it was unnerving and annoying and it was *pissing me off!*
::So, he wants to play? Let's see how *he* holds up against *me*.:: In retaliation (or maybe self defense) I plunged through that molten iris, delving through his consciousness to screw with the madman's mind...
Silence.
Total and complete silence. I could feel the thoughts spinning wildly in his head, jumping without warning from here to there, examining everything and missing nothing...but not a single one was 'audible' to me. I could hear the voices rising from the streets -- but someone had pushed the mute button on his mind and forgotten to warn me. It was...a relief. There was tranquility where I had expected turmoil, a calm beneath the storm.
No foreign thoughts, no worries, no fears invading my mind. Just peace...and the slightest glimmer of something else, tickling at the edge of my awareness. It slipped through my fingers as I tried to grasp it, but returned just a moment later. Amorphous and subtle, just barely there, but it felt like...
It felt. I was sensing not thoughts, but feelings (since when was I an empath anyway?) and they were confusing as hell, each conflicting with numerous others. Except for one. It was tenuous at best and wavering in and out of my perception...but it was the one thing I had never expected to find. Anywhere.
On some vague (maybe instinctual) level, he looked at me -- and felt trust.
I have never been one to believe in fate or reincarnation or meeting in past lives. That bullshit's all concocted for the tourists and wannabe mystics. I personally know a precog (bastard though he is) and know there's no such thing as destiny.
Just ask him, our stiff-necked leader -- no I won't say he has a 'stick-up-the-ass' because anyone that *did* would be a hell of a lot happier. But ask him. If the future was set he could see as far into the future as he wanted...but he can't. Because every second of every day, every person makes a choice, and at every choice there is a junction. One leads you left, another right, with maybe a few down the center or backwards for good measure. The future is constantly in flux, changing little by little, until what once was 'destined' to be has vanished completely.
There is no fate, no destiny, no inalienable truth. There is no fate but the one that we create for ourselves.
Trust me, I know.
Some things you can change, others you can't, but if there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that there's always a choice.
That day I first saw Farfarello, I made my choice before I even knew his name. When I met our lovely, mad Irishman, I chose to accept the fact that he trusted me implicitly, though he knew next to nothing about me -- something he'd never done before as he, too, had learned to trust no one. I chose to accept his silence as a relief, but also, a challenge to be met.
But the last choice I made is the one that really mattered, that changed the course of my fate. I chose to trust him...completely...insane or not (though I suspected not) and that had made *all* the difference.
Sometimes, you find love in the strangest places.
OWARI